Healing Handcrafting


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A Few Thoughts on Women, Community and Culture~ Non-Exhaustive

sark

I came across this picture and quote on Facebook the other night, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot. First of all, I love it. I love the intention, the ideal and the archetype that supports what Sark wrote. I believe that they are all real and grounded in our shared histories. In my life, relationships with my women-folk, both in my family and in my friendship groups, have been very important and very strong. By strong, I mean powerful in how they have affected me and impacted the roads I’ve chosen to walk down. I believe my first true love was my best friend when I was very young. My heart broke when I moved away from her at the age of 10; she was a friend that I could ride bikes with, climb trees with, ring doorbells and run with (sometimes… Barbara was definitely smarter and calmer than me when it came to deviant behavior), and we could also play with our dolls together, listen to her older sister’s records and imagine ourselves as grownups while laying on the grass in one of our yards. That early childhood friend, who I still cherish, paved the way for me to have other strong friendships that I believe will be lifelong. I relish the fantasies that involve my friends and me, wicked old and weird, doing whatever the hell we want.

Sometimes I also find myself lamenting the distance between my family women-folk and me. I have not lived near any of my family for over twenty years. Mother, step-mother, mother-in-law, grandmothers, sisters, sisters-in-law, a cousin and an aunt…With none of these important women have I shared a daily flow of life other than during a brief time my mother lived here in Vermont. I share this not as a complaint, but more as an important detail of modern life that many of us experience. I haven’t done the specific research to know exactly when the shift really started, or how one would even pick the when of things such as this, but there is, in many ways, a cultural mandate towards separating from one’s family of origin in accordance with a push towards individuation and independence. We are a culture of I’s. Not every culture puts so much emphasis on the I-self, but rather on the We, on the shared, on the communal.

These are merely germinating thoughts right now, and not new. I read a lot about this whole cultural and psychological phenomenon when I became a mother. For the first time, I truly felt that what I was doing was not meant to be done in isolation, in a women-folk void, I-centric world. There is no I in Mother, and learning how to think and live in a way that did not at times service the I-development was very challenging for me. Having a community of friends I could trust and rely on in times of extreme fatigue, overwhelm, confusion and fear… I bow to the importance of having that gift in a life.

I am currently enjoying another community of women-folk. I am a member of a Peace Pod that makes things to donate to Knitting4Peace, a wonderful organization that supplies needed items to people all over the world. The Peace Pod gatherings are fabulous, as they are a motley crew of us ladies (and one man so far!). All different ages and life paths, we are getting to know one another, we laugh, we share, and we make. I feel like I have found a lived experience that the above picture describes. Isn’t that funny? It is to me. My imagination has stuck in it one particular image of women communing together, and it is old, a fantasy, a daydream. In modern life, it’s not all built-in to our daily life structure, unless we tend to this most important archetype that ties us to one another, and reminds us that we are not going this whole life-thing alone. Sharing and participating in giving to others reminds me that we can also, and ought to, tend to those loves who are far away. Our families, our friends who live all over, we can tend to these parts of our hearts that are all over the world, hopefully all of us living in accordance with our I-self, while tending the fire of love that binds us together in the We.

 


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Women, Circles and Crochet for Asylum Seekers~ A Must-Read Article I Wanted to Share With You

I wanted to share this incredible article about the healing power of joining, in a circle, with other women and crocheting, for asylum seekers who have been traumatized on their road to safety. I will truly never, ever understand the horrible unfairness in the world. I gaze upon my children, my husband and myself and marvel at the difference between a bad day for us versus a bad day for people who are literally fleeing their homes to save their families and themselves. It borders on absurd and is, inherently, excruciatingly upsetting.

Nothing can capture the title of my blog better than this article can.

http://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2016/03/09/469535216/they-were-silent-about-their-suffering-then-they-began-making-baskets

 


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Book Review: Women’s Work. The First 20,000 Years

Happy International Women’s Day! I want to read this book! This is a great book review by Story Skeins. Check it out! 


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Random Inspiration

I was out the other day with my kids and another family for a great lunch in an old-timey malt shop. This was on the table right in front of me:

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It says: “We cannot live for ourselves alone. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these sympathetic fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as results.” ~ Herman Melville

I find myself thinking about this quote a lot right now, turning it around, wondering what Melville had in mind when he wrote it. I’m inspired by it, and I do find that my relationship with fiber is changing as I think about my connections with known and unknown people, how I interact with the world and what I expect from her, and how I long to participate in life. I’m feeling my focus changing and becoming more intentional. I feel like priorities are becoming more clear, although at times they pull in opposite directions, causing a strain for me, and a need for discernment. I’m becoming less upset about the reality that there just is not enough time to do all the things I want to. That is painful. So, the things I let go of… I have to be okay with them going… grieve them a bit… and allow the regained energy to fuel what is right in front of me.

All this from time well-spent at a malt shop, eating my most favorite ice cream flavor ever: peppermint stick.


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Handcrafting in Our Hurting World

I’ve been quiet on this blog of late. This is for a few reasons, some to do with simply being very busy raising my two young children and working. Others to do with starting a new endeavor bringing fiber and handwork to kids. The big reason, though, the reason why it has been tough for me to just sit down to write about handcrafting and all of the joy it brings is simply being Overwhelmed by all that is happening in our world. I do not want to talk politics on this blog, so I’ll refrain from discussing who I want to be president and who I think should be quarantined on a very, very remote island with no internet or phone. I will say, though, that I am sickened by the vitriolic, violent, hate-mongering that is dancing around in full sunlight of late in the good ole USA. The underbelly of racism, fear and projection is turned up and rather than it shocking our country into peaceful and humble reflection and sorrow, it seems as if it’s actually opening the floodgates of racism, violence and rage.

I am feeling deep and untouchable powerlessness. As I raise my children in a comfortable home, with plenty of food and with all that I need, in a state where I feel safe and as though I fit and am accepted, I understand that I am in a privileged position. I am not fleeing a war zone with my children. I am also not profiled or targeted due to the color of my skin. When I am pulled over by the police, my heart beats faster and I am nervous because of course I am, but I’m not afraid I’m going to be treated unfairly or acted upon with violence. I don’t fear that my children are going to be treated unfairly or with suspicion because of the color of their skin. I do know that I have a responsibility to understand my place in this social story and that this work on myself has only just begun.

I do fear “active shooters” in my children’s school and in any school. I do fear “active shooters” in malls, movie theaters, doctor’s offices, mental health organizations and airports. I fear becoming too afraid, and I fear enjoying the comfy position I was by chance born into, forgetting to remember that it’s all a fluke, a luck of the draw and that we are all, all of us human beings, in this living our lives thing together.

Tonight I got angry as I was thinking about yet another mass shooting, and I got really angry when I thought about my daughter asking about whether or not a bad person will enter her school to try to hurt her and her classmates. This question came following an active shooter drill at school that day.  (Note: the school does not use that terminology when explaining the drill to children). I got angry when I realized that the assurances that I give my children about their safety are backed up in my mind by fear and doubt. As I thought about that, I thought about the brave mothers and fathers that travel by foot and over seas to bring their children out of war zones to a safer place, only to have borders closed.

I thought about how hard it is to do things I love to do when it’s not helping anyone, or contributing in any way to solving any of these problems.

And then I decided to think about love.

You know what happens when you google things like, “knitting for love”, “crochet for world peace”, or “knitting for healing”?

You find out that people all over the world are knitting and crocheting, quilting and felting, braiding and weaving to help people, and to bring people together. You find out that there is a lot of wonderful stuff going on out there that directly relates to a desire to foster peace and love between religions. You find out that you can participate in peaceful protest using yarn and fabric, and that there are women of all different colors, cultural backgrounds, religions and minds who have in common an idea that through gathering and creating for others items imbued with love and peaceful intention, that we can heal. You find out that there are numerous organizations that want and depend upon handmade gifts of love.

I think that as I organize myself around political figures and get behind movements, ideas and rallying cries for change and appropriate response to mass- and micro- violence, it will be important for me to be able to make something. It will make tangible the overwhelming, and bring feeling, longing and loving into an item meant to leave my hands and enter another’s who I likely will never know or meet.

And I must say this: to all of you who are activists and writers and artists, brave voices for those who are not heard or listened to, and creators of change that force us to look at the truth and honestly reflect on our own positions in life, thank you and keep it up. And to all of you who are teachers, who practice drills with children so that you can keep them safe in the event of violence, you are brave. Thank you for what you do. You have energy and vision and patience beyond measure.

More soon. I’m going to go crochet.