In the Sewing Room of Life

So, I finally spent some time in my little sewing nook.....and as small as an area as it is....I got lost. The Journey Through the Heart is not an easy one, but it is a continual and important part of each of our daily lives. For many of us, that journey involves doing for ourselves, as well as for others...with needle and thread. We create, we mend, we craft and we quilt. We put together and we tie together......all of the pieces of our lives, and the lives of those that we love...and we do it with the fabric of foundations and the energies of creation. We are...in essence and in fact....women of the cloth.

I was not only lost in fabrics and threads, pincushions and fluff, I was lost, period. I couldn't find the smallest, or most obvious, or the simplest thing. I couldn't remember the room, how to use my sewing machine, or even what I wanted or needed to do. It was indeed, a spiritual journey and as all spiritual journeys are...I was lost in a wilderness and trying to find my way through.

When I left my sewing room on August 25th, I left it 'ready for action.' I was expecting to be back in three, maybe four weeks. and get right back to work..... just where I left off. I left it clean and tidy, but with things otherwise 'as is.'

I left the machine set for 'free motion' with a nice free motion foot in place. I left my variegated cone thread on its stand, ready to finish a quilt. I left lists and notes, pictures and ideas...all right where they belonged.

The problem was...I didn't know how to turn my year old machine on and use its settings anymore. I couldn't remember how to electronically lift its pressure foot, how to switch out of its 'free motion' setting, or how to get custom stitches anymore. I couldn't figure out where I'd even left the regular presser foot all those long four months before, or where the magic remote was that turned on my iron. I didn't know which basket held which projects, or where in the world my sewing to-do list was. I was a stranger in a strange land. And here it was one of the most dearly beloved rooms in my own little house.

The problem was.....I no longer felt like I belonged! I'd just spent over four months in Alaska. My parents' unexpected health crises sent me spiraling into prolonged caretaking action. My brain, my heart ,and even my limbs, were all energetically and emotionally programmed into the flow of constant and continual service.

I had a continual and constant practice of creating and managing 'Life In Progress' and constantly and continually being one in the daily communion and practice and in service to others. My ritual had changed.....and somehow, I had changed in its process. I had become a CRISPy...a continually recalled slower project!

So, my LIPs and my WIPs were no longer in alignment. I was caught off balance....just like Julie was....when she discovered that she was out of whack. And just like Julie, I have more than just one short leg, one sloped shoulder, muscle and joint issues. I, too, have a heavy heart.

So, I sat on the floor of my sewing room yesterday and I tried to find my way back. Like dear Finn, who uses sewing therapy to find her way back from missing people or lost places, I have also learned to do the same for my hard times. Like the always caring Paula, I have learned to use different gifts in different ways. Like the indomitable Shelina, I have learned to start over from scratch and keep on going. Like SuBee, I have learned that you can hit absolute bottom and still find something worth looking up for again. Like Tracey, I have learned that you can learn to make do with less, and treasure each and every small piece of your life....when your heart is filled with love. And like Anna, I am learning that we can love others with all our hearts....and still let go and let others do...as well.

So, I poked and prodded, searched and opened. I looked through every single container, every basket, every drawer and bin. I needed to remember not only my love of The Fabric , The Lofting of the Batt and the Stitch, Stitches, Stitching but just why I collected and saved all the Stash, Stashed, Stashing, Stashes.

And bit by bit, hour by hour...it all began to come back to me. I began my communion again. The process of becoming one with a sacred passion, the journey through the ever twisting spiral of life to find meaning in purpose and purpose in deed and deed in action. I discovered my own secret garden in this little space of mine. A little space with a great big heart. I was home again.