Last month, I won a giveaway from A Farm Girl’s Life which was quite literally a dream come true. See, I’ve wanted to make a full-blown DIY terrarium since I started this blog, but it was a bit tough coming by all the necessary materials: a mason jar, decorative rocks, faux moss, and such. Then, her giveaway gave me all of those things. I was overjoyed at the propect of finally getting to make a terrarium — an aerium even because the container Allison gave me had a convenient little ring on top so it could be hung.
And then my dreams literally shattered. I dropped the dome in my backyard while looking for suitable dirt as filling.
Things will go wrong. Sometimes miserably, totally, and fantastically wrong. But that doesn’t mean it’s the end. You just have to pick up the pieces and fit them together a different way. Sometimes that requires a couple of new pieces and a whole bunch of creativity peppered with common sense. (Of course, this is very literal in my case but it applies metaphorically to other situations as well.) What you cannot do after a setback is give up or beat yourself up. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. You will find the perfect road if you stick to the journey long enough, so it’s not about whether you can, it’s about whether you should.
My broken relationships with my mum and brother are definitely something I should fix. My brother strongly dislikes me and is pretty sure I feel the same about him. Cause? I’m terrible at expressing affection and I get annoyed too easily. Effect? I behave disproportionately coldly towards him. Solution? Have some more patience and consideration for him. He’s young. He will be bratty and annoying. He’s also my brother and deserving of love. My mum loves me but doesn’t feel loved back. Same situation.
I could sit and wallow in my failures as a crafter and person. But would that put my dreams and family back together again? No. It would actually make it harder. Therefore, in the interest of solving my problems, I have to get to work. Never mind the voices saying you can’t do it, never mind the shame you feel, never mind all that pettiness. The road is too long to get caught up in such frivolity.
The next day I got to work scouring my house for another suitable container and I found one. It was sitting on my dresser holding the DIY write-on flags I made a couple months ago. I dumped them somewhere else and began filling the jar. It turned out beautifully but something looked missing. Rope, I thought. It’d add that perfect splash of rustic decor and allow me to hang the jar from my ceiling. I asked my dad to stop by Michael’s on the way to pick up my brother from school so we could buy some. Little did I know that thick rope on a jar with a thin mouth wouldn’t turn out so well.
A few hours later, I sat on my bed with my desperation strewn all around me. Nothing I tried worked. I had to put my blanket in the washer because I spilled dirt on it, I’d cut up at least three strips of varying materials trying to find something to hang my jar with. I knew it was a lost cause from the start but I was unable to forgive myself. For wasting my unemployed dad’s money, for rushing into something half-cocked again, basically for being wrong.
Forgiveness is something I’ve always struggled with. I accept apologies out of pity for the other person, I don’t forgive and forget — I just dampen my anger so I can continue with my life…but even that fails, I used to self-harm because I couldn’t forgive myself for being anything less than perfect, and my favorite nickname for myself used to be “monster” because of all the hatred I held within me.
Well guess what? I forgave myself. Because, ultimately, I do have a goal here and I’d like to think I’m worth more than $2.99. I threw the rope and fabric strips in my closet and decided I’d find a new way to hang my jar. And this time I’d pay. Thanks to the magical creature that Google is, I discovered the perfect solution. A rope handle designed specifically for wide mouth mason jars…and it was in stock at my local Jo-Ann! I resolved to secretly visit the store today and buy it. Arguably, my dad won’t know the difference because it’s a rope handle and, technically, we bought rope from Michael’s. The only difference is the mind-blowing wire form that wraps around the jar. Whatever, horseshoes and hand grenades. (To all of the people my age who don’t know what that means…Google it. To all of the people not my age who do understand that…I told you I’ve experienced more than the average person my age.) 😉
Also, my operation to fix things with my brother and my mum is heading in the right direction. It’s too early to say things are noticeably better but they’re not getting worse like they were before. I know I can do this.
P.S. Have you entered my Amazon gift card giveaway? If not, make sure to enter here!
Do give the songs a listen! They pertain to theme of the post and I think you’d get a lot out of listening to them. Or don’t listen if you don’t want to, I can’t force you. If it goes well, I may make it a recurring habit to include songs in my blog posts that may or may not relate to the theme. Would you lovelies like that? Talk to me in the comments below!