One factor that I’ve considered a lot lately is my introversion. In her fantastic book, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking, Susan Cain relates research that suggests a person’s quality of introversion or extroversion is directly realted to a person’s sensitivity to stimuli. Specifically, introverts are highly-reactive to stimuli, and therefore require less of it in order to be satisfied. Extroverts, on the other hand, are low-reactive to stimuli, and therefore require more of it.

Perhaps, then, my binge-writing is brought on by my reaction to stimuli. I’m not a big fan of much social media (I do it because I have to), and I can only stand so much blog-reading before I become agitated and cross-eyed from too many opinions. There are just too many things to potentially write about that I can’t narrow it down; too many other opinions to take into consideration; and then there are too many bloggers out there with pieces on things I consider to be almost useless that I no longer consider my own thoughts worth sharing.

Information overload.

Couple this high sensitivity (read: propensity to become easily overloaded with information) with a lack of writing discipline (no matter how much I say I want to write, I still have yet to cultivate a sincere daily or even weekly practice), and there you have it: I have the desire to write more often but feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of other factors.

So when do I get any fair amount of writing done?

Usually, my highly-productive times of writing are when I am otherwise detained from my usual activities. I’m home sick (this very blog post is a product of illness induced, home-bound isolation), or my evening plans were cancelled; my boyfriend is out of the house for the evening, or he’s working on a solitary project in the other rooms of the house. Occasionally, I am able to write here on Sunday afternoons… but lately this time has been taken up by letter-writing, sewing, or meals with family.

I am left with my own age-old quandary: to find the will and determination to form a writing habit. I have just enough of an extrovert in me to flit around from task to task without settling down to one in particular for long periods of time, and just enough of an introvert to become easily over-stimulated by the swirling world around me.

What about you? Are you introverted or extroverted? Are you excited or overwhelmed by loads of opinions and information? Does this personality trait have any effect on your writing, or your ability to cultivate habits?

Among my piles of paid bills, solicitation requests and other house-keeping updates, I had amassed quite a few thank you cards.

I’m a big fan of writing thank you notes. Like most things I’m a fan of, however, it’s often that my enthusiasm for writing thank you notes doesn’t get played out. I can’t tell you how many kind birthday presents or christmas gifts went sadly un-thanked in my life. But that’s another story for another post.

I’m a big fan of writing thank you notes in part because I’m such a fan of receiving them. Gratitude, the act of feeling thanks for an unmerited action, is just as pleasurable a thing to express as it is to receive that expression. You’ve poured your heart into doing something, and though the act of doing that something is itself fulfilling (otherwise, really, why do it?), it’s also immensely gratifying to hear someone say “thank you” for that hard work and heart. Even more, it’s astounding to hear “thanks” for something that you didn’t really pour your heart into–for just being who you are, or for saying a comment that might not have been pre-meditated, but because it was spur-of-the-moment, was that much more lovely.

When I cleaned up my desk recently, it was rather overwhelming to see the thank you cards that folks had written to me. Thanks for being a good friend, for visiting someone in the hospital, for making a stole for someone’s ordination, for sharing a good idea, or for having the time to look over someone’s writing.

I understand that a big part of what society expects out of charitable people is that they not spend a lot of time drawing attention to their charity. With the exception of hospitals and institutes being named after the keystone donor, we’re mostly a culture that asks folks to downplay their giving sides.

Well, forgive me for taking pride in acting like a good human being every once in a while.

The flip side of being grateful is that you learn to accept others’ thanks graciously as well. Instead of saying “oh, it was nothing!” and brushing off someone’s thanks, it’s enough to say “it was my pleasure.” Because for most of the kind things that we do, it really is a pleasure to act generously and thoughtfully, to be kindness for each other.

If you’re anything like me, though, you forget that you can act like such a good person. You forget that other folks appreciate you for your kindness and notice when you are thoughtful, talented, and considerate.

So I pinned all of those thank you notes to my cork board. To look at and be reminded.

This time of relative frenzy has helped me to see that my usual 2-3 week timeframe for finishing made-to-order stoles just isn’t always possible. Most of the time, yes. But then there are always weeks where “most of the time” just doesn’t work. Such as, when two of your three available weekends are essentially out of commission… and your only real time to sew is on weekends.

The change has now been made to expect 3-4 weeks for made-to-order items. For the most part, stoles will be completed in the usual 2-3 weeks. I just hate that awful feeling when the 2-3 weeks I’ve promised is suddenly next to impossible. Hopefully this change cuts down on that awful feeling, but doesn’t give me too much freedom to procrastinate (hey, we all want to).

Now, back to the land of tissues, nasal decongestant, hot tea, and naps. Take care of yourselves, respect your limits, and love yourselves, y’all.

Many traditions will tell you to give up something for Lent. Chocolate, alcohol, and caffeine are typical suggestions. My father always advised me to take something on instead. Give sacrificially to charity, pray the Rosary every day, or volunteer somewhere new.

Whether you’re a person that gives up something or takes on something for Lent, the purpose is the same: find a part of your life in which you’re not living to the fullest and do something about it.

We “give something up” during Lent because, too frequently, our practices of consumption lead us to become desensitized to the conditions that leave us with so much and others with too little. We “take something on” to remind us of the ways in which our lives fall short–of true relationship, of forgiveness, of being our best selves.

“Our better self”, though, is different for everyone.

This piece was brought to my attention by a dear friend the other day. The simple dichotomy of “give something up” or “take something on”, though helpful in many situations, can be misused if applied without reflection or context. For those of us whose bodies bear the wounds of a culture at war (with ideals of beauty, of health… at war with notions of rightness, wrongness, and guilt), the unexamined call to “give something up” can be an invitation to inflict harm on ones’ self in the name of good. And unless you “take something on” that truly cultivates growth, you may find yourself feeling really good for doing things that, in the end, help no one (not even you).

So give up chocolate, alcohol, or caffeine by all means. Take on extra volunteer shifts. Just be sure that’s what you really need–not just what you think you ought to need.

I don’t know about you, but I’m in need of a lot of things. So many growing edges on me, truly. This Lent, I’m pledging to do more reflection–serious reflection. Because in reality, I’m not sure what it is I need. Hopefully you’ll see some of that reflection here, but just as often, you might not. I’ll be doing more reading scripture, more writing in my journal, more attention spent to cultivating a better, healthier me. I’ll keep a list, I promise.

Who knows? By Easter I may have discovered a practice that can last me beyond Lent.

One of the joys of my creative work is sending out new orders. I usually forget to take pictures of new items because I’m just so dern excited to wrap them up, write a note to the buyer, and send them on their happy way! But one of the hassles of my work is that I don’t live or work terribly close to a Post Office. Thus, I have to scramble on “shipping” mornings to get to the Post Office (or trek out after I get home from work). And usually, I’m good at placing my receipts with tracking info into my bag and sending notifications as soon as I get to work. Sometimes, though, that’s not the case. And I get to send out the notification when I’m back home in the evening.

But such is the life, I suppose. I don’t have enough orders to automate my processes (at least, that’s what I tell myself). I enjoy going to the Post Office, printing out a shipping label, and hand-writing the address. Call me silly, that’s just something I love doing. I love the hand-made process of it all.

So this week I’ve had time to meditate on my shipping practices. Should I continue to use USPS Priority Boxes, or should I use my own? Should I start printing labels rather than hand-writing them?

I appeal to you, then. I know you’ve ordered things online before. What do you love most when you get your order in the mail? Has there been a particularly special package that you’ve received? What made it so special?

I’ve written before about how much I love my day job. It’s a really awesome place to work; I get to help people do their jobs better, and in the process, nurture my own helpful and caring personality. Plus, I get to be geeky and tech-savvy in ways I never imagined I’d love being. Long story short: I have no intentions of “quitting my day job.” I just want to sew and create, too.

Maybe this is why I’m so fascinated by the seller’s stories featured on Etsy’s series. As someone who loves  and is fulfilled by her work-a-day life, but who also loves creating, I’m intrigued by the stories of folks who made the decision to go solely for the crafting side. People make decisions about their priorities all the time. Many times, the story is quite different from the ones in the Quit Your Day Job series: people make a decision to shuck their creative side to do the “right” or “correct” thing with their lives, or do do what’s necessary to make ends meet. And that’s one of the points of this series… to show others that it is possible to make ends meet AND delve into creativity full time.

So perhaps I am lucky. But holding on to and loving my day-job presents some interesting challenges:

Working weekends / nights

It may seem like a simple thing, but working 40 hours a week (plus about 2 hours daily commute on the trains) takes up a lot of your waking hours! And especially when the winter months mean shorter days, it can be easy to want to turn in as soon as you get home, and use precious weekend daylight hours for other activities (houses get messy and food needs to be replenished, after all).

This is when creativity starts to feel more like a chore and less like creativity. Best advice: small chunks. It’s easier to do 30 minutes’ worth of work on a project a night than try to cram it in all at once. But don’t fret; yours truly has pulled some all nighters for sewing projects before.

Maintaining email contact with customers

This may not seem like a big deal (especially when your full-time job is at a tech company, and you’re expected to be accessible via email all day), but it’s surprisingly challenging to stay on top of emails and Esty messages with clients when your full time work requires constant email communication, too. This is in large part due to my desire to keep my full-time work separate from my crafting work.

To combat this, I keep a dedicated browser for full-time work items, and a separate browser for crafting work items. My Etsy shop, recent conversations, and any USPS tracking info resides in one browser. I can minimize it (or shuffle it to a different “space” on my screen) and only come to it during lunch. Then, everything is already open and ready to act on.

Now, if I can only remember to take my USPS receipts with me to work… Many is the time I’ve had to follow up from a morning USPS shipment that evening because the tracking number was left in my car at the train station.

But there is a saying about raining, pouring, and somesuch else, and goodness, this week has been a textbook example.

Three orders in one week. Three! That’s a big deal!

It was good to get started on some new things–to get caught up in the excitement of having lots of sewing to do after a while of having just a few projects to work on.

Two orders, strangely enough, were for the exact same design in the same color scheme: “long cross” stoles in white. The third order was for a completely unique idea: a plain white stole (no quilting, no patterns, no designs) that, upon delivery, is to be hand-painted for the recipient. Love this!

I absolutely love that the orders in this week were all monochrome (in a way). I love my “long cross” design because, in part, it lends itself so well to a white color-scheme. Starting out dark at the bottom of the stole and becoming lighter, with a light cross throughout much of the length, is especially lovely when the “dark” of the stole is a medium-tan color, and the “light” is bright white. I find that many customers use this particular design as a “wedding” stole when constructed in all white. And then a plain white stole to be painted? I give up–I just can’t think of a better embodiment of my core conviction: we are ALL creative!

I love and appreciate all the good vibes and positive energy this week. Rain or shine, here’s to another great one.

I typically hear two lines of argument. Yes, you should (because creativity is as much a habit to be cultivated as it is a gift to be shared and enjoyed); and no, you shouldn’t (because what you create reflects the mood in which you create it–joy begets joy, dispair begets dispair).

What do you think? Both have their pros and cons:

Given the above, I’m in favor of a mixed approach.

Yes, you should create even when you’re not in the mood… you can get lifted out of that funk and can start to appreciate your work as work-in-progress (instead of getting into the mindset that all work needs to be completed in one sitting).

But no, you should not push it too hard. If you notice that you are resenting your work, drop it for a few minutes. Take a walk. Make a cup of tea. Write in your journal (or, ahem… blog). You may find that you’re soon more willing to pick up your project and start at it again after you’ve cleared up some headspace to enjoy your work again.

So to you, my consumate procrastinator, the one who only works when she “wants” to, I say, “get over yourself.”

And to you, my workaholic, whose fingers are sore from too much crafting, too much strain–whose eyes are bleary with fatigue… take a break. For the love of goodness, take a break.

Then get back to it.

It’s been about nine months since I was able to just spend time sewing. Shocking, for someone who sells hand-made sewn stoles on Etsy. But, alas, it is true. Working a full-time job that you really love can do that to you. Since January, I’ve been able to sew only when needed. If I had a custom order come through Etsy, I would create time on weekends to make the item and ship it within three weeks of purchase. Wonderful that I still got to sew and create lovely things, but not altogether satisfying. I needed (wanted) time to simply sew.

This week, I got it.

Part of what I love so much about my full time job is that we have a flexible vacation policy: just make sure that you’re not stranding your co-workers or being irresponsible with time away from the office, and you can take it. Given that I’d not had time away from the office since April, I figured it was time.

Like all craft projects, there was a certain effort to get acclimated to the new freedom I had this Monday morning. So I cleaned up my house. Typical procrastination, I’m aware. Then I took a little road trip (because, really, it’s been too long since I’ve been able to just drive somewhere frivolous). Then I got to work.

So far, it’s been miraculous! I didn’t realize just how much I’d been wanting to create new things until I had my hands in fabric again (I’m sure I’ll mention it in greater detail soon, but I’m having a love affair with batiks).  Though I love the designs I currently have for sale on Etsy, I had been craving the opportunity to make things I’ve never made before.

I can’t wait to show you what I’ve been working on. Perhaps some new designs will come out of this week, perhaps not. In either case, I feel so fortunate to be able to take time this week to just create. Simple as that.

Back in November of 2010–before I had this great full time job that takes up so much of my time and energy–a dear friend of mine was ordained to the diaconate of the Independent Catholic Church.  It was my honor to make her vestments that she and her bishop wore at her ordination, and an absolute joy to see them both wearing these vestments during the ordination ceremony.  The ceremony was in Virginia, and it was with a full heart that I loaded up my car early one cold November morning with the vestments I’d made and drove nine hours to her church.

My friend was still in the throes and battles of academia, so after the ceremony concluded she and her partner had to high-tail it back to Tennessee in time for finals.  On a delightful whim, I decided not to drive South to follow my steps back home the way I came, but to drive West with them.  As a result, I had the chance to stay with them longer, and to break up my trip into two days (instead of trying to make it home in the dark of night).

Second only to spending more time with my friends, the highlight of this excursion was stumbling across the Mystical Mandala Coloring Book.

Mandalas are traditional forms of sacred art and prayer found in Hindu and Buddhist traditions, and, somewhat like the icons found in Eastern Orthodox traditions, the creation of mandalas is a sacred activity.  They usually are circular designs, and in many traditions are made of sand.

Yet, here was a coloring book (a most ordinary thing) that is devoted entirely to these wonderful acts of art-making-prayer.  What a strange coloring book to find!

It has provided me with hours of delight.  My older sister and I sat over this coloring book last Christmas and each worked on her own mandala–my father stumbled upon us, and even though we were 26 and 29 (and had long-since given up the nasty habit of back-biting and bickering that we had as children), he couldn’t help but comment how peaceful we were.  Sitting.  Just coloring.  No big deal.  Since then, I’ve turned back to my Mystical Mandala Coloring Book for quietude and inspiration.

Lately, I painted our dining room walls and wanted to put up artwork to fill the now-yellow stretches between windows and corners.  Where else should I turn but this delightful coloring book?  I finished one mandala, cut it out, and pasted it over rich red fabric.  One frame: done.

Now that fall is settling in (or, at the very least, peaking in), I am returning to this coloring book as a way to center myself after a long day.  Just to sit.  And color.  And many times, I think back to my dear friend who was ordained to the diaconate last November–the one whose ordination turned my steps toward the path to this strange, delightful coloring book.  I think of her in her ordinary life, still just as ordained to ministry as she is when she serves in a church service.

In many ways, this coloring book is a reminder to me that it is in the midst of the very ordinary things of life that we see the sacred coming into being.  That we can even pick up a marker, color in a few lines, and sit quietly with a work of art as it comes into existence–that is nothing short of miraculous.

It may not be creative in that you are not crafting something from nothing, but the creativity of choosing colors, dabbing markers onto paper, and glorifying at the simple beauty that you had a hand in creating… well, that’s enough for me.

For now.