I awoke to these words so generously shared from a friend from a far:
“When tragedy strikes afar or hits closer to home, we feel it. In harsh realities, we’re exposed, raw and uncertain.
It’s during these hard times that we really need the softness of craft. To be wrapped in the embrace of grandmother’s quilt, to feel protected from the elements in a hand knit sweater, to caress a mug thrown by someone else’s hand on a potter’s wheel. These simple things reconnect us to our humanity and remind us of the goodness and potential of people.
I don’t think it is naive to turn to crafting and making or seeking out beauty. It is vital.
Piecing a quilt isn’t just about sewing fabric, it’s time to process emotions and patch together our feelings. A knitted sweater is an entanglement of love that our child wears when we can’t always be by his side. These things matter deeply. One stitch at a time, we can shape our surroundings.
We can control what we make — and what we do with it.”
This was so affirming, after reading the paper in tears this weekend, as I processed all the pain in this world. I couldn’t help but feel helpless + like the world was doomed.
Taking time to make things, to create beauty is a necessary practice, and it can look like anything.
I have been inserting this slice of beauty in my days lately : lavender oil behind my ears, listening to Essie Jain (such peaceful music!), holding onto my mala and repeating a mantra, while lying on the couch for 15 minutes. A divine indulgence of beauty and rest, of allowing instead of pushing.
Create moments of beauty. Finding moments to uplift your spirit.
Start here :
“I do wonder, how some people, who upon seeing gorgeous, billowing cumulus clouds floating effortlessly overhead, don’t just want to explode with joy.
Or who, upon seeing a mighty old oak tree, don’t run right up to it wildly screaming, “I love you!”
Or who, upon being caught in the rain, don’t blush as each drop gently kisses their skin.
Or who, upon gazing at a star-filled night, aren’t paralyzed with awe.
Or who, upon seeing their reflection in a pond, don’t cry the happiest of tears.
Do you know what I mean?”
– The Universe (Mike Dooley)