What September Means to Me

Ideas of Inspiration's is a blog that uses images to express a theme. This month we are to share images that show what September means to us. Most people are posting photos of changing leaves and while that is true, it doesn't work for me and yet I can't come up with an image that really works for me. More than ten years ago, I decided that September would be the month that I would put stretch marks on my comfort zone. In other words, I would do at least one thing that made me uncomfortable. Why September? Partly it has to do with the seasonal change and my struggle with seasonal depression caused by Chicago's long, grey winters. I feel the downward pull starting in September. On a more positive note, my first child was born on September 27th and my world was never the same.

My first trip to Georgia (country not state) happened in September and I returned each September  three more times. I hope to go again next September. This year I've taken up pottery. I'm learning to be gentle with myself. Not only are the classes on Monday nights a challenge but I'm making myself go to open studio where all the world can see how clumsy I am. Yesterday I went alone (Barbara had to work.). I discovered that the room was filled with people who had mastered the art of throwing clay. The person with the least experience had been doing it four years. You could hear a pin drop it was so silent with everyone focused on their tasks, but curiosity has always gotten the best of me so I started asking questions and before I knew it, I had a room full of new friends who were actually sad to see me leave. I also want to share that I successfully centered and threw three pots in 1-1/4 hours!  This was after not even being able to center any clay on Monday night and leaving class feeling quite defeated. Now I am not saying that they are good pots, but they are pots! I plan to stick with it until I can successfully throw a pot consistently. I may hang it up at that point or continue. I'm being open. While I love pottery, I'm not sure I'll ever be a great one, but that's truly not the point. I'm not seeking perfection.

The photo is from Georgia. We were walking down a street when I saw the chair and stopped to puzzle why. It took a while for my friends to realize I was no longer with them. Can you guess? It's a basketball hoop! I can't tell you how excited I was to figure it out. So in many ways, I think this photograph does a good job showing you want September means to me. What does September mean to you? How do you put stretch marks on your comfort zone?