We have so many of these endings in life. The last few days of school holidays. The last few pages of a book we loved. The last weeks before a move in a house that has been a place of joy. The end of a relationship with someone we know we don’t want to be with but love .

Experiences where we are simultaneously grateful for what we have had and yet sad because of what we are about to lose. And finishing a big project is a loss. Yes there is beauty in the use but it is a different beauty on the other side of this point of discontinuous change.

We are no longer able to pick up the familiar comfort of the possibility available to us in the stitches. We can no longer sit in the grace of the space - and instead in time have to find other projects that may or may not fill us up in a similar way.

At this time of year we are often making plans. Plans for our lives, and plans for our making. It’s a time full of possibility, and for me is one of the funnest parts of our making practice.

Who doesn’t love wandering through our metaphorical and non-metaphorical shelves of ideas? Oh the sweaters we could knit. The jumpsuits and cushions and frocks we could make. Quilts. Blankets. Socks. Won’t it all be wonderful!

But while that possibility is exciting, I’ve found it can also be problematic for me if I spend too much time rolling around in it.

You see the problem with possibility is that it is infinite, it’s perfect and it doesn’t make us proud.