I had this idea about adulthood, what it would mean to finally consider myself ‘grown-up’. It had to do with understanding yourself within a context and knowing what was next, something vague like that. After waaay too long waiting for that to happen, I am finally beginning (only just) to accept that maybe there is no arrival, there is just the next step.
I sort of felt like had arrived when I began to do ketubahs. I’d always primarily identified myself as a maker as opposed to say a thinker for instance. (Sometimes I stray and think a little, but then I get distracted by something shiny and…oooh!) I always made things- illustrations, textile design, furniture, all that fun stuff, but never really settled into one path. When I started making ketubahs, it felt right. I didn’t stop doing other work, but ketubahs took more and more precedence in my life because they felt bigger than me.
It’s great fun to make a piece of art and have someone like it and even buy it. Awesome. But when the piece of art they love and buy is a part of their wedding and becomes the thing that embodies the day their lives joined, awesome squared, right?
So finding this great thing to do that people loved and I loved doing felt like arriving. And it was good for quite a while. Then more life happened. I met my husband- big shift. We got married and made a tiny person. Bigger shift. We built a house for us and the tiny person. Yet another big shift.
Now, three years into that wonderful experiment, I find myself wondering what happened to my cozy path? I still love making ketubahs- don’t get me wrong. It means even more to me now that I have actually been where you guys are. But now I am looking at the life beyond. What those words on the ketubah really mean- making a new life with your other half- I am still working that out.
So once again I find myself searching for the path and realizing I am needing a whole new map to get to where I’m going next. And that getting there does not mean arriving.