Jolie Rouge
01-09-2003, 10:08 PM
It occurs to me that my life really is a fabric of warp - not warped -and weft yarns. (OK, maybe some of them are warped too!)
This past Christmas season, I did A LOT of crocheting. Finances had me in a place where a lot of store-bought presents were out of the question. The good part was it forced me to rediscover some talents I had forgotten - namely my ability to crochet.
So, I've had yarn on the brain for three months, and this meditation is the result.
If I were designing the afghan of my life, I would choose it to be all beautiful colors, with some shiny Lurex yarns crocheted through the piece. But it's not. It's not like the scarves and afghan and booties I made for friends and family over the Christmas season.
Sure, it has a lot of beautiful colors, and some glittering threads along the way. But it also has dark threads and deep colors. Greys, blacks, and sad purples. I didn't plan them. But like the variegated colors of ombre yarn that get randomly worked into a piece, so do these colors appear when I least expect them. They are the losses in my life.
As I look back over my life now, the funny thing is that these losses don't leave holes in the material. They aren't empty places, the way we would expect losses to be, and the way we can experience them. What I realized is that though they are dark places, they are still part of the fabric and they are still with me. Friends and loved ones no longer in my life the way they once were, beloved pets gone over the rainbow bridge, a marriage relationship, loved ones who live far away that I miss, dreams I hoped for myself and for those I love. All of these are still woven into my life and my memory. They all have helped to make me what and who I am today.
What's more, this life afghan is wound around my heart. It protects it, cushions it, and keeps it warm. Both the colorful yarns and the dark ones. All of these people and situations are still precious treasures to me. Like those ombre yarns of variegated hue, they bring new joys to me as I experience them in fresh ways throughout my life. For all the yarns that have formed the structure of my life has been to this point, I am grateful beyond words. And for all the threads yet to come, I wait with hopeful anticipation.
And of course, I am also grateful for the bright new yarns that reflect light in beautiful ways in my life. Close friends, my beloved partner and the extended family who have all graciously welcomed me into their lives, my cat companions that bring me joy, work associates who have become friends, good neighbors, moments of connections with parents, partners, friends and strangers that reaffirm that spiritual bond that is the strongest thread of all.
So as we go forward into 2003, I invite you to examine the fabric of your life. Where are the bright yarns, and the dark ones? This is a year for you to continue the pattern of the cloth or change it. Some of the yarns may sadden or delight you, but it's up to you how you work them into the material of your being.
God bless you.
Happy New Year.
© Lesley Goddin 2003
This past Christmas season, I did A LOT of crocheting. Finances had me in a place where a lot of store-bought presents were out of the question. The good part was it forced me to rediscover some talents I had forgotten - namely my ability to crochet.
So, I've had yarn on the brain for three months, and this meditation is the result.
If I were designing the afghan of my life, I would choose it to be all beautiful colors, with some shiny Lurex yarns crocheted through the piece. But it's not. It's not like the scarves and afghan and booties I made for friends and family over the Christmas season.
Sure, it has a lot of beautiful colors, and some glittering threads along the way. But it also has dark threads and deep colors. Greys, blacks, and sad purples. I didn't plan them. But like the variegated colors of ombre yarn that get randomly worked into a piece, so do these colors appear when I least expect them. They are the losses in my life.
As I look back over my life now, the funny thing is that these losses don't leave holes in the material. They aren't empty places, the way we would expect losses to be, and the way we can experience them. What I realized is that though they are dark places, they are still part of the fabric and they are still with me. Friends and loved ones no longer in my life the way they once were, beloved pets gone over the rainbow bridge, a marriage relationship, loved ones who live far away that I miss, dreams I hoped for myself and for those I love. All of these are still woven into my life and my memory. They all have helped to make me what and who I am today.
What's more, this life afghan is wound around my heart. It protects it, cushions it, and keeps it warm. Both the colorful yarns and the dark ones. All of these people and situations are still precious treasures to me. Like those ombre yarns of variegated hue, they bring new joys to me as I experience them in fresh ways throughout my life. For all the yarns that have formed the structure of my life has been to this point, I am grateful beyond words. And for all the threads yet to come, I wait with hopeful anticipation.
And of course, I am also grateful for the bright new yarns that reflect light in beautiful ways in my life. Close friends, my beloved partner and the extended family who have all graciously welcomed me into their lives, my cat companions that bring me joy, work associates who have become friends, good neighbors, moments of connections with parents, partners, friends and strangers that reaffirm that spiritual bond that is the strongest thread of all.
So as we go forward into 2003, I invite you to examine the fabric of your life. Where are the bright yarns, and the dark ones? This is a year for you to continue the pattern of the cloth or change it. Some of the yarns may sadden or delight you, but it's up to you how you work them into the material of your being.
God bless you.
Happy New Year.
© Lesley Goddin 2003