Honey & Ollie Designs

I’ve been compiling a list of events that I’d like to do next year. Some of them are a no-brainer. They were great when we did them this past year, we made good money, and of course we’re doing them again. And then… alas. There are a couple of events that we should not do again. We did not do well at them and I have no reason to think that the issues we had with them will change for the better. Yet here I am, struggling to cross them off of my master list of possibilities. Why? Well because they could potentially be awesome, if the stars aligned and reality totally reversed itself. Shutting off a possibility pains me, even when “THIS SUCKED!” is staring me right in the face, screaming.

It’s hard to say “no” to All The Things, isn’t it? I have always found it hard to connect with the idea that possibility does not equal reality. I was recently reading an article about Generation X hitting middle age (Gen X referring to those of us born who were born between 1965 and 1985 or thereabouts) and one of the points the article made was that it can be really hard for us – keep in mind that we’re talking about a very generalized characteristic of a group as a whole, here – to narrow our options down. The author’s theory was that, as children, we were told so often that anything was possible that it crippled our ability to settle on one thing. We don’t like to shut doors on possibility. We want to keep our options open.

I can’t speak for anyone else in my cohort, but this has been a recurring theme in my life. It began with elementary school report cards. “Rain is not living up to her potential as a scholar of advanced mathematics.” Well… no. Because, math. I was all about the potential in reading. Sorry Mrs. Kepner. But thanks for turning me on to Babar the Elephant! Don’t you fret about those addition tables.

See also: Dating, in my teens and early 20’s. “But he has the potential to be a really nice guy! I know he’s unemployed/is named Spike*/is commitment phobic/taking hormones for a sex change but didn’t actually tell me that he identifies as F not M until we’d been dating for 3 months **/has 4 girlfriends and thinks he would like to add a 5th***. No really, this relationship is potentially amazing!”

Apropos of nothing, I have a pet theory that most people who openly identify as polyamorous were probably born on the Gen X spectrum. I’d guess that the majority of statistical outliers (age wise) are actually pretty close to the cusps on either end, too. Heinlein may have planted some conceptual seeds, our parents may have had their key parties in the era of Free Love, but we’re the ones who took our 3 and 5 parent households to PTA meetings.

College? I’ve been going to junior college off and on for the last 25 years. Graduate? Why bother? Hey, I haven’t tried statistics and I just love a challenge. Sign me up! How about another anatomy class? Library science? Nursing? Art! I’ve had a great time at the smorgasbord of higher (ish) education, and I still have no desire to declare anything major. I mean, why? Fuck it, I’ll graduate when I’m 90. Maybe. Is an actual diploma really that important? That raku pottery class does look interesting, doesn’t it?

Narrowing my creative business down to metal and stone was a challenge and I still keep trying to figure out how to add a tasteful line of knitted accessories.

Religion? I know I was born Jewish, but Buddhism looks good too. Can I just take the high points from each and still eat bacon even though Leviticus says NEIN! and the Buddha says it is fraught with suffering and crap karma?

Heck, it even bit me in the ass with Crafted, “It’s got so much potential! Never mind that it’s at the ass end of nowhere, in a lousy location with no amenities, no foot traffic, and only a 50% occupancy! It’s going to be great! I will now proceed to throw buckets of cash at all the potential that is inherent in this scheme!”

Yes! And magic elves are also going to appear before me, with glitter mai tais, ice cream, and a pony!

If we are a generation that insists on embracing the power of And, then I am a pretty good example of that. Still, the idea that maybe I can start to narrow it down is not the most horrifying thing I’ve ever contemplated. I’m starting to accept the idea that potential is all very well and good, but you can’t take it to the bank. I’m even toying with the idea of making “No” my One Word for 2015. It’s a really challenging concept for me. It isn’t that I want to spend a year as the Enemy of Possibility; it’s just that I’d like to explore the idea that I can actually shut some doors and the world won’t end. Maybe bringing a little focus to bear is not the worst idea I ever had.

In the end, I did cross those two shows off my master list. It was hard and I keep feeling this strong urge to add them back. I will hold firm in my resolve! It’s ok. I can do this.

Besides, I found six other potential options for those weekends, anyway.

* Mostly I was just in this one to fuck with my mother, who could not embrace anyone named “Spike” no matter how hard she tried to be enlightened about it.

*** I hear that his romantic life doesn’t look quite so much like a Cirque Du Soleil juggling act these days.