Transcript for

Episode 84:

She’s Baaaaack

It's been 2 years, 9 months, and 3 days since I last released a podcast. Here's what I've been doing instead.

 Hello there darling Sheepspotter! Welcome to episode 84 of The Sheepspot Podcast. I'm Sasha, and my job is to help you make more yarns you love.

There's a biz guru I follow, Amy Porterfield, who advises entrepreneurs to "Share scars, not scabs." And what she means by that is when we're going through something, it's best not to share a lot about it (and she means on a podcast or on social media, not with your therapist) while you're still in the "messy middle" and whatever you're going through is still at the icky scab stage. Better to wait until you're past that, when your scab has formed a scar. And friend, I have been in the messy middle for a minute! But I'm feeling like I'm on the other side of a lot of big transitions (including the pandemic, which was one transition after another) and I'm ready to recommit to the podcast.

And I thought that, before diving back into spinning in the next episode, I'd take a minute to let you know what's been going on. So in this episode I'm going to talk first about what's been up with me personally, and then about a lot of changes that  Sheepspot's been through since we spoke last. 

And before I get started I want to clarify that despite the scab/scar metaphor, the vast majority of what's been happening in my life has been absolutely wonderful. But there's been some harder stuff mixed in, too. And even the wonderful stuff has been kind of dislocating. I've felt off balance for a long time, and I feel like I'm starting to find my footing again. 

So here's a wonderful thing that has involved actual dislocation. My husband and I bought a piece of land in a tiny little town in rural Nova Scotia in 2018. We knew we couldn't build on it immediately, but we thought we probably would be able to at some point. And some point finally came at the end of 2020, because I spent most of that year thinking I was going to die at any moment from COVID. Which was ridiculous, but I was acutely aware of my mortality that year and so I was feeling some urgency about this lifelong dream I had to live by the ocean. We had always planned a house and a small separate studio for me, so we thought, "Let's build the studio first, because that's what we can afford now, and we can live in it now and build the house later. So we started the design process with our architect in late 2020, broke ground in mid 2021, and the studio was finished in February 2022. 

We were really blessed in both our architect and our builder, and the build was really easy, but Matthew and I agreed that I would take the lead on it, so the builder was mostly communicating with me, and the process did take a lot of my creative energy in 2021. And then the process getting the place furnished, getting to know the neighbors, learning how best to actually get there (I am an expert on the flight schedules between southern Ontario and Nova Scotia), and learning how to live on a tiny peninsula that sticks out into the North Atlantic—well, it was A Thing. A wonderful thing, and I loved every moment of it, but it took up a lot of brain space in 2022. 

Somewhere in there, I also decided to start phased retirement from my day job, and I will actually teach my last university class on April 9. Another big transition!

And woven all through this same period was grief. Grief for my immediate circle: between 2019 and 2023 I lost three close relatives, two close friends, and my beloved cat Zora. And grief for the world: for the pandemic, for the wars, for the decline of democracy and the welling up of fascism worldwide. I definitely did not have "armed attack on the US capitol during my lifetime" on my bingo card. 

Alongside all the changes in my personal life, during the past 18 months or so it became clear to me that Sheepspot needed to change, too. We were a tiny team and we were trying to do too many things. I was spreading myself way too thin. And we weren't making enough money to support me actually paying myself after I retired from teaching, largely because the dye business and Breed School meant my overhead was high. So a lot of things needed to change for Sheepspot to really be sustainable, energetically and financially. 

So I did a lot of thinking about what Sheepspot's job is in the world, and eventually two things swam into view, like little fishes holding signs (as I picture them they are Dr. Seuss's red fish and blue fish). The first sign said "teaching! (duh)" and the second said "community." 

The first fish was telling me that it was time for me to really lean into teaching spinning, and to figure out what my unique contribution to the fiberverse was. If you've been a sheepspotter for any length of time, you may remember that I created Sheepspot in 2014 as an alternative to my academic career, which was making me intensely unhappy. I wanted to get as far away from writing and teaching as I could, which was why it was so therapeutic to spend my days turning wool colors. So I resisted teaching spinning for a long time. 

But most fundamentally, at my core, I'm a teacher. I just am. Even as a little kid I always learned things by thinking about teaching them to other people. It's just the way I'm wired. It's the easiest work I do, and it's the most fun. Hence that "(duh)." So in the middle of last year I made the difficult decision to close my dyeing business, massively reduce my overhead, and focus on teaching. Duh. 

And not just on teaching, but on curriculum—on creating and testing and refining a holistic spinning curriculum that understands the path to accomplished spinning and can lead folks from just getting their wheels to being able to create any yarn they want to make. Right now I think that's my unique contribution to the fiberverse, and I'll have more to say about that in the next couple of episodes.

The second fish was holding a sign that said “community.” And I gotta say I argued with this fish even more than the first one. I'm an introvert. I love people, but I find being with people exhausting. I am a very unlikely person to be leading a "community." But my life was bringing me back to the community again and again. And somehow I just knew that one of Sheepspot's jobs in the world (it's unique contribution) is to create community. 

So last year, I created a community for intermediate and advanced spinners. It's called "The Guild by Sheepspot," and it has succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. Guild members are winning spinning competitions, and getting published in spinning magazines, and creating so much beauty. And in the process they are learning and connecting and holding space for each other with such grace. 

And I held my first retreat in my tiny little coastal town last October. I love where I live in Nova Scotia so much that I knew I had to share it with spinners. So we gathered on a neighbor's farm, had beautiful meals catered by another neighbor, and yet a third neighbor joined us to teach a mindfulness class. My spinning community met my new actual community. It was so much fun. I loved every minute of it. 

2023 was a year of massive, often intensely-anxiety-producing change for Sheepspot. It often felt like I was making a parachute when I had already jumped off the cliff. I'm not going to lie. It was hard. But looking back on it, I know the business and I are right where I need to be, and I can't wait to see what 2024 has in store. 

There's a post in The Flock where you can comment on and discuss this episode if you'd like. I'll link to it in the show notes, which you can find at sheepspot.com/podcast/episode84.

Well, friend, that's it for me this week. Thanks so much for listening, and for coming back after my very long hiatus! The next couple of episodes are already available. And I'll be back next Friday with another episode. I'll meet you back here. And in the meantime, spin something! It will do you good.