A Single Spoon = New Blog Name = New Blog Direction

Once upon a time I started a little blog where I posted a bit of this and that and other random snippets from my life. And then life changed. It got hard. As I struggled to find my value and worth as a newly single, empty nester in my 50’s my postings stopped. At the time I had no belief that anyone would be interested in the issues of being on your own later in life. However, as life went on I was discovering the opposite. I am not the only person faced with redefining home: “the social unit formed by a family living together” to home: “where the heart is.” My home is now the place where I healed myself by nourishing my soul, my mind and my belly. It took some time for me to feel worthy of this type of life and, funny as it may sound, the rebirth of my self-worth started with a single spoon.

 

A Single Spoon

In 2016 in the wake of a divorce and the death of my mom I was on a journey to rediscover myself. As part of my journey I committed to a year of saying “Yes.” If you’re unfamiliar with the Year of Yes, in a nutshell it involves a commitment to saying yes to opportunities that are outside of your comfort zone. For me it felt a bit like getting in a canoe without paddles but I was determined to stay in that canoe and go wherever the current took me for the entire year. A couple of months into my year of yes, with many "yeses" already under my belt, a friend asked if I was interested in going to Art-A-Whirl with her. At this point my weekends were safe, solitary, and predictable. Yard work, shopping and cooking easily filled my time away from work. My neighbors had even commented that I needed more than yard work in my life. Accepting this invitation, while it seems like a little thing, was far outside of my comfort zone at the time. But that was the point of the year so I said “Yes.” 

 

My friend and I decided to limit our Art-A Whirl fun to the Casket Arts building. It’s a huge building so we knew we could spend hours there and probably still not see everything. And yet as we headed out I had a feeling there was something I was meant to find in this building and I shared that thought with my friend. We both concluded it was probably a painting or piece of art that would kick start redecoration of the house that I was struggling to see as mine after the divorce. My friend patiently explored each exhibit with me, pointing out things she thought might be perfect. I wasn't finding anything that spoke to me. We continued to search studio after studio and floor after floor of paintings, drawings, mixed media, pottery, glass, metals, sculptures, photography, jewelry, textiles… it was all beautiful and some of it quite moving but I hadn't found “it.”

Something changed when we walked into the wood arts area. I was drawn to the beauty of the woodwork. The colors, grains, and textures pulled me in. Looking was not enough for me in this room. I had to experience the wood. I was touching everything – the tables, chairs, and bowls. I reached the workspace of a woodworking artist named Teresa Audet. Her table started with a beautiful display of cutting boards. I picked up one board after another. I felt the curves of each board, admired the wood grain and envisioned each one in my kitchen. I started to think I could find what I had come for. And then I saw her spoons. They were gorgeous. Somehow rustic and refined at the same time. Each one unique. I picked up each spoon and, a bit like Goldilocks, knew I had found my “just right” spoon as soon as I had it in my hand. This was what I had come here for. I needed this spoon. I am normally a frugal person and yet I knew paying $62 for this spoon was a bargain because I had this sense that investing in this spoon was investing in myself. Allowing myself to have this spoon was affirming that I was worthy of something this special. I hadn’t believed that for a long time.

 

I bought the spoon without hesitation. I also spent some time talking with Teresa about spoon carving. She showed me each step of the process. I came away thinking that each spoon is there in the piece of wood waiting for the artist to see it and bring it out. The wood will tell you what it wants to become if you only take the time to listen. Your spoon will be strong and beautiful if you respect the natural grain and embrace small imperfections.

 

Being the type of person I am, I naturally drew a parallel to my own life. For years I had been determined to make myself into what I thought my perfect spoon should look like. I had tried to carve myself into something that was in conflict with my natural grain while desperately trying to carve away my imperfections.  I was ignoring everything in me that screamed "this is not the way I wanted to be carved"! And while I may have looked ok on the surface I eventually broke under pressure. 

 

But I realized that if I am the artist responsible for discovering the hidden spoon in me I also have the ability to start over. This time I would listen to how I wanted to be carved. Today I am honoring my natural grain. I feel strong and resilient. I am learning to appreciate my hard earned knots and even my age rings. I have reached a place where I take time daily to listen… to do a bit of carving and shaping… and continue the work of discovering my own inner spoon - all because I invested in a single spoon… and myself.