Dabble On - By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

 Dabble On...

I'm dabbling in a lot of things;
no longer do I care
if I'm seen as rank amateur
or show a talent rare.
I used to worry all the time
that I might not excel.
I'd tell myself - don't even try -
and interest I'd quell.
Now I don't really care at all
if I do well, or not.
If I am curious, I will try;
I'll give it what I've got.
I'll stitch, I'll bake, and cook a bit,
I'll play with jewelry -
and show nary a care at all
if it's Tom foolery!
I'm occupying mind and hands
in time of endless stress -
I'll dabble whether I excel
or only make a mess.
I'm free to dabble on and play,
and post pics on Facebook -
it's not to brag or show my skill,
but just to say - Hey - look!
I didn't criticize myself,
I didn't second guess.
I sat and figured this thing out -
and did it - more or less!

- Sharon Flood Kasenberg, January 29, 2021


Say what you will about 2020 - it was a difficult year for most of us, and while it fell short of being my "year of perfect vision", it certainly made a few things about myself come into focus.

In previous posts I've mentioned my narrow comfort zone, my ability to become frustrated easily, and my introversion. I've never been the kind of person to share "a work in progress" - when I write a poem or blog post, it appears online as a finished project. While that's still the case where my writing is concerned, I've learned over the past six or seven months that it's okay to give the Facebook world a glimpse of some things I'm working on.

I thank the pandemic for making me desperate enough to start dabbling in more creative endeavours. When every day starts to look the same, you look for ways to shake things up a bit, and for me that meant trying some new things. Thus I've learned the value of dabbling.

It started with food. When you are staying in all the time, food becomes important - probably much more important than it should be. In May, I dug out our air fryer and started using it for more than cooking frozen fries. In June we bought an Instant Pot, and because of my wariness around technology and new kitchen gadgets, my husband decided he'd help me prepare our first meal in the thing. He discovered he liked helping me cook Instant Pot meals, or "science experiments you can eat", and I discovered that I was more inspired to create in the kitchen when I wasn't stuck in there alone! Proud of our efforts, we both started sharing the occasional "this was supper" post, and hungry friends started requesting recipes. Apparently our meals looked good enough to eat!

As my garden began to bloom I got outside and snapped pictures. I'm not a fantastic gardener, but I'm interested in photography, and flowers are more cooperative photo subjects than people or animals. (In the spring of 2019, my husband gave me an iPad, and after years of very seldom taking pictures I discovered how easy it is to take - and share - pictures with it.) My gardening pictures have always been more about trying to develop photography skills than bragging about my garden. I dabble in gardening and in photography.

Throughout the summer I often felt bored and restless, but I discovered that my world looked a bit more inviting through a camera lens. My husband had purchased some photo sessions with a local photographer as a gift for me, and my son had purchased a decent camera from a friend. I utilized both and had some carefully distanced photography lessons. By then "Covid Brain" had kicked in and my powers of concentration were a bit compromised, but those lessons broke up my week and gave me something new to think about. I'm not convinced I was much of a student, but by trying something different I was reinforcing the idea in my head that I could dabble - just trying new things was an accomplishment in and of itself - but having learned a bit more about taking photos I could continue to learn more at my own pace.

As the pandemic continued I found that I needed tangible evidence that my days weren't wasted. If I posted some nice pictures, I had proof that I'd seen something that day, but that wasn't quite enough. As days wore on I needed proof that I was actually doing things. While cleaning out a few drawers in a little used room, I found some Aida cloth and embroidery floss. I hadn't cross stitched in more than a decade, but decided that I should do a small project to see if I still enjoyed it. The fabric I had on hand had a tight weave - my stitches had to be small, and it quickly became obvious that my eyes had deteriorated a bit. I made a lot of mistakes in that first project, but posted pictures anyway. I was proud that I'd simply followed through and finished, even when my eyes felt strained and I goofed up. The completed piece is now framed and hangs on the wall in my office, proof that I accomplished something - and that I can persevere and be proud of consistent effort, even when it yields imperfect results. Finishing that one small project motivated me to complete a small project for each of the people on my Christmas list - more proof that my days weren't wasted! I was getting things done, by golly - and I was happy to broadcast the fact!

Furthermore, when I posted pictures of my first stitching project online a new friend sent me a private message asking if I'd be interested in some outdoor, socially distanced "stitch and bitch" visits with her. We had some great chats and got to know each other a lot better. All because I posted a picture! It was more proof that good things can happen when we risk sharing our efforts online.

I think the proof of my personal growth lies in a lot of imperfect photographs of less than perfect meals and slightly flawed projects that I've posted this past year. I'm no longer worried about people looking at my efforts and saying, "I can do that better." Without a doubt many can, and some might think that to themselves. I'm no longer bothered because I don't care what they think, and I have enough faith in the people I friend on Facebook to be fairly confident none of them will be overtly critical or unkind. My projects are about me - not them - and how I'm learning the importance of playing with new ideas and dabbling in new projects.

I know I'm just a dabbler. I know a lot of other people can stitch rings around me and cook better meals, take better pictures, make nicer jewelry... I'll even concede that a few people on my Facebook feed can bake as well as I do. (Sorry if that sounds boastful; I'm not going to bother with any pretense of false modesty on this one point - I know I'm a good baker.) 

I don't need to be particularly good at everything I try, and I don't need to be afraid to share imperfect attempts with my friends. You don't need to be afraid to share either.

These are frustrating, difficult times. I can't speak for the rest of you, but I'm feeling a lot of stress. I've been denied a lot of the simple pleasures I took for granted - a weekend away, a visit with friends, a meal at my favourite restaurant. For the last nine months, I've been living a very quiet, isolated life. For the last two months, I've been the primary caregiver for a mother who grows older, frailer, and more high maintenance. All of these circumstances and sacrifices take their toll, and I'm not afraid to admit that.

My little projects keep my mind occupied, at least temporarily, and they keep my hands busy. They provide proof of my own productivity, and will serve as  reminder to me that I didn't spend the entire pandemic wringing my hands.

When I share my efforts I'm reaching out to others. I'm trying to start a conversation, to encourage my friends to share their own efforts, no matter how big or small, and no matter how imperfect.

Most importantly, I'm giving myself permission to be a dabbler. I can try out new recipes, new hobbies, and new projects. I can dabble until I gain proficiency, or I can dabble until I'm tired of one hobby and move on to another. I can dabble for the sake of dabbling - I can dip a toe into a new pond, or dive in. Nobody gets to dictate how I dabble, or tell me when to stop.

It's gratifying to play with ideas and give creativity new outlets, and it's freeing to no longer be afraid to share my creative attempts. Having discovered the joy of dabbling, I'm not going to quit, and I urge you to get creative too.

Dabble on, friends...dabble on.