You know what I did. I blogged (almost) every day, 28 times, at least. Three days of doubled posts, but considering my stubborn inclination, even against myself, to resist schedules, that's not too bad. Earlier this weekend, in an e-mail conversation with Penny, I wrote that "I discovered this month that daily blogging is not for me, but I admire those who do it. It isn't that I run out of things to say, but rather that I just don't always have my computer on at home, especially on days I work on campus, and I find myself resentful when I have to turn Rupert on…and I do not like typing on the iPhone for more than a brief message."
This has been a good project for me, though, and I may repeat it again in the summer when my time is more my own.
February wasn't just about the daily blogging, though. I have been enjoying the Olympics so much. Sure there were times when I wanted to watch something else or have the house quiet with no television going, but as the Winter Olympics come but once every four years, I savored the excitement as much as possible.
Today's hockey game was fantastic. I had hoped that Canada would win, despite the chiding from Neal and my SnB girls. The girls and I met at a local bar and watched the game, got our medals, and showed off our knitting.
I did not come close to finishing my sweater, but I made good progress on it. I am a slow knitter, and I knew it was foolish to think I could knit an entire sweater. But it is about striving, right? About the try. At least for me it is. Others may disagree. Others may think things only matter if you win. The joy, for me, in most of life, is in having a beginner's mind. Being curious. Being willing to fail. Being fine with being a fool. And I am. I'm filled with joy right now.
After not having a television for 14 years, these Winter Olympics stunned me. I was moved to tears a little earlier today when I heard that all the athletes enter the closing ceremonies together, not by nation, but together. I sobbed as I said to Neal, "this is one of the few times, few places that there is anything resembling peace." I couldn't express it as fully as I wanted, nor can I still.
I'm signing off from my month of blogging, from my Olympic knitting, and I'm going to savor the closing ceremonies and go to bed early. I'll leave the month with one more question:
What have you attempted, knowing you would most likely fail? How did it make you feel?
