I can tell I’m changing (again). My first thoughts, when I notice it happening, are sometimes judgmental. For example, I’ve recently become interested in gemstones. My reaction was, Why? I hardly ever wear jewelry. It seems unnecessary. And I’m not into sparkle- or, at least, I didn’t used to be. I tend to correlate flashy jewelry with conspicuous consumption and superficiality. How judgmental! Can’t it be that people just love beauty, and love adorning themselves with whatever beauty the earth supplies us with? That’s one good byproduct of changing: it makes you able to see multiple points of view. You can appreciate and understand others better because either you’ve been there or you’re standing alongside of them now.
Lately, I’ve been attracted to the color purple. Even my taste buds are changing. I’ve gotten cravings for chocolate and other foods that, in the past, haven’t been my favorites. (Those are just a few frivolous examples. My outlook is changing, too.)
One big change that occurred several years ago has to do with crafts. From the time I was a kid, I liked making arts and crafts: rug making, quilting, origami, painting, drawing, sculpture, pottery, photography, sewing clothes, flower pounding, mosaics, embroidery, felting, knitting, dyeing fabric, beading, making greeting cards and envelopes, bookbinding, papier mache, collage, holiday crafts- the list goes on.
At some point, though, in my twenties or thirties, making these items no longer felt fulfilling; it felt like a waste of time. I think I held onto the habit for a lot longer than I should have, assuming my boredom was for the specific craft I was involved in at the moment, or figuring that I was in a funk and my mood was to blame. I guess it was hard to drop what had been a part of my identity for so long.
I wish I had gracefully- or excitedly- welcomed change. I don’t know why we’re here, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t to keep reliving the same chapter of our lives. We’ve gotta live the whole story.