It seems to be a death-knell for any blog to announce to friends that you update it every five or so days. Since saying this I have felt moved by guilt to consider posts on a number of subjects. The thing is I have no dearth of subjects to write about; what I lack is the time to do it.
Over the last 18 months my life has filled up. Slowly but surely, I have moved from sitting at home staring at the walls to being out almost every night in the week, and every weekend. What is even better is that I am doing the things I want to do, with the people I want to do them with. It's fantastic.
I want to write about it all - pass comment on it all. But the moment always passes before I can sit down to type. Or is that quite true? Since making my blog public I have been having something of an identity crisis. It suddenly seems that what I write has to fit into some sort of niche, or that I have to portray some sort of persona to the world. Is this a blog about craft? A blog about religion or science maybe? Is it personal? Well, yes. It is all of those things.
Definition is a theme that has come to haunt me and mine. On a recent visit to a dear friend of mine who lives in a secular commune, the theme came up quite pointedly. When you live communally, and your daily work is the running of your community, you can no longer define yourself by what you do. For someone who has always had a clear-cut job, say as an editor at the Beeb for example, this can be something of a stumbling block.
You see, we define people by what they do. We judge them on the merits of their chosen career.
So how do we judge someone when they no longer define themselves by what they do for a living? It is a hard question to answer, but I think I am finally beginning to understand.
I always defined myself as a Biochemist, a Journalist, or an Editor. When I became a Soapmaker I was more keen to describe myself as a Freelance Editor, or to otherwise apologise for my chosen job. Why? Because making soap is perceived as being a drop-out job. It's certainly not something you need an MSc to be able to do. Or do you?
What has been the turning point for me is to realise that I no longer have to be defined by the job I do, by the degrees I have, or by the company I keep. I am my own person, and I define myself as such, and can be whichever facet of myself I choose to be at any given time. It is extremely liberating and also, seemingly, unnatural for those around me to accept.
I was walking in the woods with a very old university friend of mine and listening to her prattle on about another life, when she announced that she is having a crisis of conscience, and is trying to decide whether she wants to keep the high-powered consultant's career that she has. My ears pricked up and I drew in breath to speak, but she continued. Not only has she reached this crossroads, but so has another mutual friend. He has realised that his career as a musician is not taking off, and so he needs to decide where to go next. Should he become a producer instead?
Well, given my own recent epiphany I felt qualified to comment, so I started to speak, but no sooner had I said the words "I feel the same way. My soapmaking..." then she had switched off and was talking over me, drowning out what I had to say. I had the distinct impression that Musicians and Consultants could suffer crises of conscience, whereas Soapmakers could not.
So what do I make of all of this?
At the time I gritted my teeth, smiled, and found a particularly interesting leaf on the ground to look at. I can't force my friend to listen to me, and to take onboard what I wanted to say. I can't even force her to let me finish speaking before she moves on to tell me in detail about the cheap Manolo Blahniks (yes, I know that probably isn't how you spell it) she bought in New York.
All I can do is to say to myself that I define myself as this, and to let her find her own path.
