I haven’t been able to weave lately because of a back/neck injury I sustained one month ago tomorrow. As I’ve worked to get back in touch with my body and what it’s communicating to me (if only I’d listen!), I’ve been thinking a lot my looms and which one will be my entryway back into weaving.
I think for the sake of my back, I’ll start weaving again on this wonderful one from Lost Pond Looms. I am planning on using this loom in both my Introduction to Tapestry Weaving Classes and Wild Weaving classes, as we phase out the ones we have been using. I like this loom because it is super strong and allows for different warp spacing. I also love that we are buying it directly from the person who makes them, and he’s from the next state over in NY.
So, taking it slow, and learning ever more to listen to the language of my body and woven form itself. And in the meantime, I’m circling my weaving tools, thinking about what they will hold soon, and looking forward to picking up my yarn again.
A friend of mine mentioned the other day that I hadn’t written here in a bit. She’s known me long enough to recognize a pattern of mine which is that I do a pretty full retreat from online things when there’s something I’m sorting out. I got to talk about the things that I’ve been chewing on, and she listened. She also said she missed seeing what I’m up to when it comes to making things. This was a beautiful nudge. Very well-rounded.
Grief, as you likely already know, takes its toll on people. As someone who’s written a lot about grief, a whole book in fact, you’d think maybe I’d know some tricks on how to navigate the experience with greater ease. But I’m here to tell you, there are no easy ways through the process. In all my writing, talking, supporting, and expressing, never once do I suggest there is a “get-through-grief-the-easy-way” option. It is simply something we must go through, feel, adapt to, and be chiseled by. Ultimately, we are charged with getting to know ourselves and others in our new form, as someone changed by what we’ve experienced.
I’ve noticed about myself that when I’m swimming in the grief waters, I need to take some steps back from those things that put me out there into the world. Certain aspects of grief make me feel like I’m a flipped over turtle, and the last thing I need in those circumstances is to feel more vulnerable during those times.
As we approach the year anniversary of when my dad died, we are also making our way through cold winter here in Vermont. In a few days, it will be February 1, Imbolc, which marks the halfway point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. This is when, in the Northern Hemisphere, the light starts to shift and come back. Many are thinking about the seeds they’re going to start indoors in preparation for the spring plantings. The goddess Brigid is honored in her many forms. We are invited to clean our houses, set our intentions, and think about what we want to bring into fruition in the coming growing cycles.
sun snow…
I will be honoring both of these events. I feel ready for the light to come back after relishing resting in the dark.
Creative life has been full all these months. I’ve been teaching at the Shelburne Craft School, a place that has truly become a home away from home. I also have spent time with folks in my studio, supporting their weaving journey. I’m taking a tapestry weaving class with Elizabeth Buckley, all about weaving water. I am learning so much!
my first attempt to weave reflections in water… not easy, my friends. I have a ways to go, but I’m loving the class.
I have a lot of little projects going on as well, including a new daily weaving practice that has absolutely no plan, so we’ll see how it goes.
Oh, and I made some block prints…
I’m creating things for a new class I’ll be offering called Wild Weaving, where we get to blast out our creativity and impulses into the embrace of a waiting warp.
And, I’m developing an online class as part of our Weaving Your Story programming through the craft school. This is a curriculum I’ve been developing for a couple of years and has become a very important part of my life.
All amazing work to get to be doing!
I still need to finish weaving some towels so I can get started on a new installation idea that won’t let go of my imagination. That is a project I’ll be planting seeds for soon, in hopes that it will be born over the summer months. You heard it here first! It’s got ties to this piece that was in a show in South Burlington last year.
Creative energy builds when we learn how to rest in the ways we need.
That’s it for now. Thank you, dear friend, for asking for an update.
Balance means many things to people. I’ve found that at any given time in my life, my scales are always tipped in one direction or the other, but that sought-after feeling of just being still in equilibrium is fleeting. Especially when I’m tired, struggling, weary, afraid, or grieving.
Lately, my balance has been way off. A lot of push with not enough rest, quiet, or solitude. I know this pattern well in my life and it never fails that I get sick when I’ve not adjusted the scales with enough care.
I love the invitation of this day. In the northern hemisphere, we get to think about what we have sown in our lives that we can harvest and make use of, and what should be thrown into the compost bin. What can we put to bed as we head into the time of increasing dark?
Can we let ourselves rest?
Can we let go of things that don’t serve us?
Can we let go of things we wish we had or could do but with only so much time in a day, we must come to the aching realization that some things have to remain undone, unmade, unwritten? That hurts.
And in the southern hemisphere, as you head into increasing light, what will you sow? How will you prepare yourself for what you are hoping to bring into being?
In this nature-made time of reflection, what will you be tending to?
(This is reposted from The Long Grief Journey, a website dedicated to the book I wrote with Pamela Blair. I wanted to share it here because of how precious I feel the equinox is.)
Has it really been since March since I’ve written? I’ve been meaning to, but honestly, it’s really hard to extrovert (which in my mind includes putting parts of myself out into the world) when grieving. I’ve needed a lot of quiet, a lot of time alone, and not at all any “shoulds” where possible; just simply to have time to be in my own headspace, at least more than I typically am able. That all being said, I’ve missed writing here. I’ve come to look at this website/blog as the place that holds evidence of my thinking and ideas.
I’m grateful to you for tuning in.
Some updates: I was asked to participate in a group art show entitled Interwoven at the South Burlington Public Art Gallery , and I wholeheartedly said yes. I’d been working on some projects and it was just the impetus I needed to really focus and bring them into being. Most everything I make has to do with something I’m working out in my psyche and the pieces I made for this are no exception. Three are hand knit and three are handwoven. I’ll love to share them with you. The show’s opening is on September 11. I’ll post more about that soon.
Evidence of Significant Repair
Wearing Away
Hema ThrínoRhythms
Winter of Our Discontent
Soil
My wooly, woven pieces are actually curtains but could also be wall hangings. I love playing with the idea of warm and bold wool being woven in an airy, light-filled way. I was in my studio yesterday and the window was open, allowing Winter of Our Discontent to flow and move and I smiled, seeing it dance just the way I’d hoped. I’ll write separately about each piece to introduce them simply and properly in the next week or two.
Also happening lately is the spinning of wool while listening to Clarissa Pinkola Estés’The Power of the Crone. I highly recommend listening to her wonderful stories. Pairing that with spinning is like eating dark chocolate while sipping a hot coffee. Perfection.
I got to dress up for a dear friend’s beautiful event thrown to raise money to develop a space that supports deep creativity and the arts…
And I got glasses- suddenly everything looks crisp and clear again… dang, that was a slow motion slippery slope…
I played with paint and yarn…
And had a lot of my work hung at the Pierson Library in Shelburne…
And did all kinds of fibery things with the Shelburne Craft School, my home away from home…
So, now that we’re all caught up (is that ever really possible?), I’ll love to know what you’ve been working on, thinking about, gearing up to do.
It’s a rainy Friday – rain in January? In Vermont?
It’s been too long since I’ve recorded here my progress and process in weaving, and there’s so many reasons for that of late. Let’s just say 2023 went out with an epic attitude problem and 2024 picked up the baton and leveled some more painful life experiences.
I’d like to acknowledge here that the person who taught me to knit, my step-grandmother who has been in my life since I was 9, passed away on January 7. Her name is Marion Bogdanski (née Trio). I remember vividly when Nanny started teaching me to knit. She was so patient and encouraging, always urging me to relax my hands and loosen my stitches so I wouldn’t have to force the knitting needle into the fabric for every new stitch. Nanny’s mother, Nana, lived with her for time. Nana was from Sicily, and I remember thinking she was amazing- little and delicate and lovely. She would sit and knit, too, me at her feet. I’d hear behind me the click, click, click of the knitting needles going so fast. I remember thinking that one day I’ll be able to knit like that. Still hasn’t happened, but those memories of learning from Nanny and Nana are precious to me and I suspect have a lot to do with how I ended up loving fiber art and craft so much. Also, I must mention that Nanny made the best pancakes ever and I will make homemade pizza and fried dough every New Year’s Eve in her memory. Doing that with Nanny on NYE are some of my favorite memories with her, as well as watching old movies, listening to her stories, playing cards, and getting cooking tips. So many times when I’d need to make something good, I’d call Nanny and ask, how do you do this or that, and she’d take the time and explain every step to me and tell me exactly what to get at the store. That’s so generous. I hope she is dancing and singing with her wonderful Henry and all of her family and friends who left before her. Isn’t she so beautiful?
Another event that has happened in this new year that is especially relevant to the point of this blog is to do with arthritis, believe it or not. This is a topic that I hope to pick up in some depth in the coming months or years. Arthritis doesn’t go away, after all, but more is something to tend to, know about, live in accordance with, and adapt to. In short, I have osteoarthritis which often invites statements like, “well, you’re getting older, and aches and pains are part of it” or “that’s just normal aging”, even from doctors. I have to say I’ve found this entirely unsatisfying. I’ve noticed over the last few years a significant shift in how osteoarthritis in my fingers and hands is affecting my ability to do things that are important to me, namely weaving and teaching weaving.
The way arthritis has been affecting me for the last couple of years is in pain, bending of fingers, and the development of cysts that are doing their best to respond to the impacts of bone spurs that are doing their best to deal with the fact that there’s nothing in between certain of my finger joints. These cysts can often be ignored but one of mine went rogue and became an ongoing issue in September, resulting in the need to have them surgically removed. I had this minor surgery just over two weeks ago and am continuing to heal. Today I was able to tie my shoes using my healing fingers, which felt like a big deal.
What’s the point of sharing all this? Well, I know there are a lot of artists and crafters out there who have arthritis. And I am learning very deeply what it is like to have a physical condition that affects what you can do, how you feel about yourself and your future, and that simply hurts sometimes. As I climb out of feeling really bogged down by the discomfort of post-surgical healing, I realize that I want to move into this space of learning more deeply. I want to know how to better care for myself so that I can keep doing things that I love. I also want to learn more about how to help others do the same, no matter what condition they are dealing with.
I didn’t realize how much I loved weaving until I couldn’t weave. I didn’t realize how much I loved teaching until I thought I might not be able to. I didn’t realize how many people were out there, wanting to make, create, express, and share their light with the world who for one reason or another can’t or don’t know how to modify things in a way that allows them to keep at it. To put it simply, going through all this has cracked my heart open even more. Just like grief has.
Soon I’ll write about some projects I was able to finish before the surgery and talk about some other things I’m working on and thinking about. Until then, I’d love to hear from you if you are managing a condition that has affected or affects how you create and express yourself. Who knows- maybe a larger conversation can start where others can find support and new ideas when they are struggling.
p.s. I found this website about arthritis really helpful.
I heard a wonderful program on NPR this morning and just had to share it with you. I found myself nodding and smiling and feeling this wonderful sense of “Yes, Exactly”! as I listened. The segment is called: Feeling alone? 5 tips to create connection and combat loneliness and was on Morning Edition. It features Dr. Jeremy Nobel, who founded the Foundation for Art and Healing decades ago and wrote the book entitled Project UnLonely. I’d never heard of it and am so grateful to know about it now. Here’s the link to the episode. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
Thursday is Children’s Grief Awareness Day. You can read about the origins of this important day here. If you have a child in your family, classroom, sports team, extracurriculars, or community that you know is grieving the loss of a loved one, you can find wonderful information on the Highmark Caring Place website about how to support them.
Definitely check out their Facts and Stats page for some insights into the breadth and depth of grieving children and the long-term flow of grief so many of them experience.
Below I’ve shared an excerpt from The Long Grief Journey in hopes of contributing to this very important conversation. There have been many times over the years where I’ve worked with children who appeared to be struggling with learning or behavioral issues who also had lost a loved one. Sometimes it was long enough before I became involved for educators and other important adults in their lives to not be aware of the child’s loss. Sometimes too, the assumption was made that so much time had passed between the child’s loss and whatever was happening at the moment that the two issues (or more) weren’t related. What we found, time and again, was that with tender care and raised awareness, support of children was more full-bodied, relevant, and empathetic when the picture of the child’s life was viewed as a whole, grief included.
I hope that if you are supporting a grieving child, you find this useful.
The Long Grief Journey, excerpt from Chapter 15:
Helping Children Cope with Long-term Grief While Tending to Yourself
It can be tough to help kids deal with grief when you’re grieving as well. It’s important to take care of yourself…
Amy Morin, LCSW, psychotherapist
A life built around a core sense of absence is its own type of grief and for many is difficult to describe in words. The journey begins early if your child lost a significant loved one at an age where they don’t hold any memories of them. If you’re helping your child grow up with the absence of a precious loved one, you already know you have a crucial role to play. It’s important to keep their deceased loved one in consciousness, by name and by image, to tell stories about them, saying their name in fluid, non-whispered ways. Consider also this truth: children will grieve and will process their grief in some way, no matter what we do. The more open we are, and the more space we can hold for them, the more fluidly their experience will go.
SPOTTING LONG-TERM GRIEF IN CHILDREN
When a child loses a parent…that child grows up feeling different and alone. A story is written in a secret place in that child’s mind—a story of loss and pain and the triumph over that pain.
Maxine Harris, PhD, author The Loss That is Forever: The Lifelong Impact of the Death of a Mother or Father
As much as we’d like to insulate ourselves from untimely loss, it’s proven to be impossible. Some people lose a loved one when they’re infants, and others after a long life lived together. There is no official roadmap detailing how loss will impact a life, but some themes emerge worth considering.
Here, we write as though you are a parent or caregiver to a child who has lost a significant loved one, but if you are reading this section with yourself in mind, hold a space for remembrance of your age and your thinking and needs from that time. So often as children go through their own grieving process, they are supported by people who are also grieving and who have varying levels of knowledge about developmental ages and stages and the needs associated with them. Those who are in the acute stage of grieving don’t generally have a lot of extra energy to spare.
Let’s begin with what unifies us all in the experience of long- term grief, regardless of the age you are at the time of loss. In the beginning, common feelings and reactions include anger, ambivalence, longing, and the persistent striving to recover the person lost. Age is what tends to dictate how these emotional reactions appear and are understood or expressed. As a rule, adults have more life experience than children and have more reference points for identifying feelings and for asking for what they need. Children are often confused about what their feelings are about and may even struggle with naming them. Anger can feel more like an urge. Persistent longing might be expressed through obsessive ritual and magical thinking. When young children lose a parent, sibling, or other precious loved one, the effects can last for years, especially if they are not supported by the important adults in their lives in a way that allows all of the feelings and fears to be expressed and processed. Michael described how his granddaughter continues to process the death of her father who passed away five years ago.
My granddaughter has hundreds of cuddly toys. So many around her bed that she can’t get in it! She fixates on keeping them all in the same order. She is ten now and she doesn’t look to be abandoning her teddy bears any time soon. We just accept it.
It’s so important for caregivers, teachers, and other adults to know that even years after a child loses a dear loved one, especially a parent or sibling, issues can arise which look like anxiety, depression, attention deficit disorder, autism, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and academic delays. In a child’s life, loss changes the shape, texture, flow, and rhythm of most everything. It doesn’t mean they can’t go on to live wonderful enriching lives, but it does mean the relevant and important adults in their lives need to keep an open ear to underlying issues as they express themselves.
Older children and adults understand time and finality, whereas infants, toddlers, and young children do not. Forever can be both an impossible concept to understand as well as terrifying when applied to the deceased loved one. It’s easy to see how immediate grief reactions can evolve and morph into long-term and unresolved grief as the child learns to have a relationship with someone who isn’t there. Even years later, people of all ages report “seeing” their loved ones in passing cars or in groups of people. Pam swears she saw her father sitting in a diner eighteen months after his death. “I saw him sitting in the window from the parking lot wearing his favorite baseball hat, and I almost approached him!” This kind of seeking behavior is found in people of all ages.
No matter the age a child is when they lose an important loved one, they are likely to regress to behaviors from a younger developmental stage, at least for a while. Children who were potty-trained may bed wet again for a time. Teenagers may want to sleep in their parent’s room or may not feel comfortable going out. Moreover, adults may wish for someone else to manage the nuts and bolts of life, responsibility feeling too burdensome and stressful. Herein lies the potential for a complicated battle of the needs. It’s easy to imagine that if an adult is feeling the pains of grief for a long time and needs a release of pressure, it might be doubly hard to care for children who suddenly are not only grieving but are also doing things that are unexpected, appear immature, or even are annoying. The way children’s caregivers respond to these regressions has a lot to do with the way grief is metabolized in the long run. That’s why getting support and gaining increased under- standing of how children express is so very important.
A LIFE REDEFINED
Ian was twelve when he lost his father. When he was twenty, he asked, “I wonder what kind of man I would have been if I’d had my father all this time.” Now he’s forty-one and told us, “I still miss him every day.”
Pam
Another thing to remember is that at every developmental stage or milestone, life is redefined. Graduations, new jobs, greater independence, a committed relationship, parenthood—all these things that come to pass in a life stand out as one more life event a parent didn’t witness, and one more moment to grieve. Over a lifetime, metabolizing this loss and incorporating it into one’s identity is the goal.
Those who lost a loved one at a young age might not feel free to talk about them. Some feel as though bringing up their name or names will make others uncomfortable. Some suffer from feelings of sadness and jealousy when they witness others having close and bonded relationships. There is a sense of difference, of otherness that marks a person’s life and can make special moments at best bittersweet, at worst, emotionally intolerable. It seems there is a value placed on the recency of loss. The further back one’s loss goes, the less room it gets to take up in conversation. Meanwhile, the person who lost someone at an early age may feel like this fact of their life is the first part of them that enters a room, the rest shaped by this loss.
Whether we’re healing our inner child, tending to our adult wounds, or helping another person on their long journey, it helps us to be oriented to where a person was in life when they sustained their profound loss. It can also help us serve ourselves from a tender and compassionate point of view.
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A Book Recommendation: a dear friend of mine whose family has been impacted greatly by loss recommends the book The Invisible String, by Patrice Karst. She said this book was invaluable to her family when they were supporting her grandchild through grief. There are other books in the series that are all wonderful and deeply supportive of children and those who care for them.
Do you have books you recommend for grieving children?
I spend a lot of time thinking about and talking about grief. It’s part of my job as a therapist. I co-wrote a book about it. And I incorporate working through grief into certain of my weaving classes, both with groups and individuals. It’s a subject that is always relevant because all of us, at some point in our lives, barring few exceptions, lose loved ones or experience losses of other kinds, like endings of relationships, job loss, or significant life changes due to chronic illness, bankruptcy, natural disaster, war. The list is long. The news of late has been devastating and heart crushing when viewing what is happening in the Palestinian Territories and Israel. So many of us are grieving locally as well as globally. So many of us have been doing this for a long time.
There’s nothing to say about it that can take away the reality of the pain, anguish, trauma, and truth of the matter, which is that human beings can be so utterly monstrous to each other. It’s shocking, and then we must think on the reality that we have choices to make every day about how we are going to be in the world. And sometimes even the most peaceful of us disappoint ourselves. I guess that’s where the truth is, too. It’s always a choice, and always it is true that how we are to others impacts our experience of our lives and our relationships.
I’ve noticed a few things lately that might seem obvious, but that have been moving me and making me look above and beyond the chatter. These observations help me connect with my choices in a way that mitigates feelings of helplessness and despair. I’ll share them with you here.
~ There’s a lot of dialogue about how much our culture gets grief wrong and how there is this pressure on people to “get over” grief quickly. I don’t disagree with that, but I have been noticing how many individuals and organizations are out there, all over the world, talking about how grief really is, and how much it changes a person and a life. As I’ve looked more deeply into remembrance and awareness days to do with grief, I’ve seen a lot of realistic information about what grief is really like as well as how we can support others when they are struggling. I’ll write soon about an upcoming awareness day to do with grieving children. I wonder what is getting in the way of the honest messages to do with grief from landing and changing the experiences people have when they are suffering. How can we release the pressure we put on ourselves to stay the same, no matter what?
~ Giving people the space and respect they deserve and are entitled to when processing life events and grief is a wonderful thing to do. When we can get out of the mindset of having to make someone “feel better” and instead hold space for them to simply be where they are, a sort of alchemy takes place. A bridge of trust grows, and often it looks like recognition. Almost like a version of namaste, it is as though the spirit says, the grief in me sees the grief in you.
~ As I talk with and listen to people, something is becoming crystal clear: long-term grief is not always solely about the loved one lost, but sometimes is a result of the anguish of trying to get back to normal too fast, whether this is a self-imposed pressure or felt as pressure from others. As a result of that anguish, there are multiple layers of complexity piled on and on and on. As people try to find their balance and figure out a new normal after any kind of grief, part of that often entails facing the pain of how their grief was received and responded to. This is tough stuff, but it seems important to me.
~ There is something incredible that happens when people let themselves process life events through the practice of making. We do so much thinking about so many things. And I’m a fan of thinking! Thinking helps us make choices that are less reactive, more informed, and ideally lead to better outcomes than when we fly by the seat of our emotions. But… sometimes we get lost in the weeds of words and self-analyzing. Creating spaces where people can translate lived experience into artistic form works, and what we get from that is insight and healing from angles that might not have been approached if the senses weren’t involved.
~ Listening… the most wonderful kind of listening… is medicine. The kind where you’re not waiting to say the next thing, or thinking about your words as the other person is still talking. Slowing down and absorbing what someone is saying and letting it affect you or work on you in some way- this is true relating. And it doesn’t require hours, or even many minutes. It just requires deciding that the person you are engaged with is worth your time and attention. Can you imagine if we all treated everyone like that? And were treated like that all the time?
What helps us meet the people around us where they are, not where we want them to be? How do we maintain compassion, patience, love, and curiosity? The first thing that comes to mind and is the only one I want to focus on at the moment is self-compassion. Sometimes it’s just the truth that our cups will not be full before we give to others, and we can sustain that for a while. Sometimes we are tired and grieving ourselves, when we are at the same time showing up for others. And sometimes, we can’t give in the ways others want us to give or we wish we could, and we need to pull back and refocus that energy. That’s okay. It helps to remember and keep remembering that it’s not anyone’s job to take grief away from others or somehow fix the pain of it. And sometimes energy needs to go back into the self for a while before it can go out again. It’s just the way it is, and there’s nothing selfish about it. It’s okay to think about how you can show up for people at any given time, and be honest about.
How do you tend to yourself and nourish yourself as you go about life and relationships? Do you have ways you tune in and respond to your heart and body? Do you take the importance of this as seriously as you do your love for and support of others? And, when you can’t be there in the way you always have and feel worried about that, or stressed or resentful, do you have ideas about alternatives? Can you imagine communicating them?
There is something alchemical about handweaving. It connects us with ourselves, with others, and with our ancestors, recent and distant. Weaving is part of our ancestral DNA and when we allow our fingers to interlace thread with thread, we create connection and foundation. Weaving does not have to be expensive, and weaving should be accessible to all people. If we can apply resistance to threads and create a taut warp, we can weave.
I love the long arc of weaving and the incredible potential it affords. One can sit with a simple frame loom and weave wild art pieces as well as work on a multi-harness floor loom and create wondrous and complex fabric. There are so many types of weaving and looms. Multi-shaft, tapestry, backstrap, pin, circular, inkle, Rinny Tin-Tin. Over the last decade, I’ve been teaching fiber art and craft in schools and more recently at the Shelburne Craft School, and there are some thought jewels that I’ve gathered along the way that fuel me, inspire me and make me want to keep learning and expanding. I’ve shared some of them here as a way of inviting anyone who has an inkling, to try out weaving, or any art or craft you’ve longed to try but keep putting off.
People Meet Themselves When They Weave
On many occasions, I’ve had the good pleasure of hearing people say things like, “I’m usually __________ (fill in the blank), but I’m playing with being __________ (fill in the blank) as I weave this” … or “I’ve never played with so much color before and I LOVE it!” …, or “I never realized how much tension I hold in my hands” …, or “the process of weaving while I reflect on my loved one is bringing up thoughts and feelings I’ve not held space for in so long, if ever.”
When we let ourselves just be with our hands, our eyes, and our breath as we make, our spirit has a chance to catch up and settle into the space between our lungs and in all the chambers of our heart. We can hear our own breathing again. We can let our eyes linger where they want to, and then notice where that is. We can meet our inner judge and talk it down from fear. We can usher ourselves into new territory and have woven fabric to show for the journey.
People Benefit from Having Access to Colors and Textures and the Opportunity to Experiment
This may sound so obvious it’s laughable, but hear me out. Have you ever had the experience of being invited to make something, and are given a certain set of materials that everyone else has, and a series of instructions that everyone else has, and you make something at the end that looks like a weird, kind of close but disturbingly not-close version of the thing you were supposed to make? Or is that just my life? In my experience, nothing botches up creativity more than when we are in a circumstance that doesn’t let us feel and see our way through materials we want to touch and witness. I’ve been blessed with a bunch of students who “go rogue” on the regular. It’s hilarious, and it’s shown me that people have their own ideas and their own version of learning that needs to be honored and allowed for as much as possible. Yes, sometimes technical truths need to be thrown in the mix to ensure that people can weave the thing they want to weave, but I’ve learned that creative drive is strong and shouldn’t be stamped out by rigidity.
People of All Ages Need to Play
I think we all know this intuitively, but what I’ve found is that people of all ages need access to opportunities where they can experiment, follow their noses, see what happens, try this and that, on low-stake projects. As we age, many of us become concerned with how much things cost, how much “time is worth”, how useful something is, and whether there is value to whatever it is we are doing. It puts so much pressure on the creative part of ourselves that just needs a freakin’ minute to look at things, try things out, observe what happens when certain materials interact with others, and take notice of how we feel about what we are seeing and experiencing. We need the chance to just be and drop in to our flow. When teaching elementary aged people as well as folks in their senior years, I’ve heard many exclaim, “Oh wow, I get to use this?” and, “I can’t believe I can weave with all of this! It’s so much fun!”
That makes my day.
My friend and weaving teacher, Lausanne Allen, playing the fiddle while guests learned to braid using the Kumihimo method during an event at the Shelburne Craft School.
Weaving Can Be Very Simple and Very Complex
I’m hitting home runs here with obvious statements, but it’s worth saying that weaving is, at its most basic, the process of moving one material over and under and over and under another material. That’s it. Simple as that. From that foundation, we can weave the most complex and wondrous images and textiles imaginable. But it all starts with interlacing whatever it is we are weaving with. Isn’t that marvelous? Weaving is for everyone. It can be taught to people as young as nursery school age, and there is no age limit. In fact, weaving can help those dealing with the effects of stroke, dementia, and Alzheimer’s disease, as it has been shown to strengthen and encourage neuroplasticity in the brain.
When We Get to Do Things We Love, We Are Living the Universal Dream
Disclaimer: This is my view based on a whole lot of things. Feel free to take it or leave it.
If we are doing what we love at least sometimes, we can experience ourselves and share with the world our inherent gifts. There are no losers in this set-up. (Of course, I’m assuming that doing what we love doesn’t include hurting other people or living in a way that disregards others’ autonomy and integrity.) When we share what we love with others who are interested, we are giving from the place of our truest selves, because what we love is connected to who we are; the spark connected to our creativity is born from energy itself, and it interlaces with others’ creativity, like a cosmic dance. It’s amazing!
Whether it’s weaving, dancing, sculpting or singing, writing, building or baking (the list goes on and on), if we love what we are doing and sharing it with others in some way, we are putting some good energy into the world. And my friends, the world needs that big time.
Doing what we love = good medicine.
I hope whatever you are doing today includes you sharing the spark you have with the world in whatever way feels great to you. Until next time.
I’ll share with you, right out of the gate, some positions I hold that are unshakeable:
It is my deepest belief that every person has creative energy within them.
Something wants to be expressed and realized in every human.
One does not need to go to art school to find and express their artistry.
We have a choice about how this creative energy is harnessed- generatively or destructively?
Where I live in the northeastern United States, summer brings a surge of energy that, whether felt by people or not, is always part of the environmental experience. We emerge out of cold winter. We make it through spring, which in Vermont is a weird conglomeration of less cold air, more moisture, thawing ground, a lot of mud, then a freeze, then another thaw, more mud, some warm days, then some cold days again. Finally, we make it to the time when it stays warm. The greens explode, flowers bloom, birds sing, farmer’s markets bustle, frogs fill the night sky with their croaky songs.
For me, this is typically when there is a powerful surge in my own creative energy, and in the last fifteen years or so, I’ve learned to harness it in an effort to create. What I didn’t really know before fifteen years ago, was that this is a distinct energy that needs tending to, not just when there is a surge of it, but throughout one’s life and throughout any given year, no matter the season. One doesn’t need to be an Artist with a capital A to do this. Many people know this already and live in accordance with their flow of expression. You might see it when you walk into someone’s home and they’ve decorated in a way that delights the senses. Or maybe you’ve known people who can prepare food that would make Julia Childs exclaim. Have you ever walked through a home garden where someone has lovingly tended to each of their plants and has bits of ornamentation here and there that makes you smile? In all of these ways, individuals express themselves and share what they love with the rest of us.
Of course there’s also painting, drawing, writing, weaving, knitting and crochet, sculpture, carving, repurposing, hand-stitching and sewing, dancing, metal work, singing, making music, playing… the list goes on and on.
Life for the majority of adults involves a whole lot of work, and these days, an astronomical amount of distraction from what’s right in front of us. Most heart crushingly, the thing that is severely neglected in this overstimulating culture is our relationship with ourselves.
We are someone we can get to know and have a relationship with.
This is incredibly important to understand. We can hang out with ourselves and get to know ourselves in ways that are very similar to how we hang out with other people and get to know them. How? We give ourselves time to follow our noses and let our creative energy lead the way for a bit. Julia Cameron talks about this at length in The Artist’s Way, and she specifically urges her readers to take themselves on dates. These can be outings that really don’t take a lot of time but that are just for you and you are just with yourself. This is crucial. Your date with yourself should not be time to catch up with phone calls or coffee dates. This is your time you give yourself in order to be with … you! The more you go on these dates with yourself, the more they become second nature and an important part of your life.
So, why is this important enough that I write a blog post about it? Here’s some reasons:
~ Creative energy is energy. When it is stuck, suppressed or unrecognized, it can shape-shift in ways that are not generative. Think abusive use of substances, depression, agitation, disconnection via distraction, sadness or grief for reasons that are hard to identify, living through other people and their creativity, and simply living life by going through the motions.
~ When we notice the creative energy in ourselves and tend to it, we allow for others to do the same, in whatever ways bring them joy and meaning. We learn about ourselves and others.
~ We slow down enough to engage in the moment that is right in front of us. For example, when I’m weaving, I’m only weaving. I’m not texting, doom scrolling, making dinner, talking on the phone… I’m doing this one thing that requires my full attention and I focus. Sometimes I can only do this for 20-minutes, but 20-minutes is better than 0 minutes, so I’ll take it.
~ We develop relationship with our selves. Sorry, as a therapist I’ll never not think this is important!
~ We allow the energy within us to flow up and out. I think about what one of my mentors said all the time when he was teaching. He talked about seeds and how a sunflower seed can only become a sunflower. It will never be something else, and when it is fully realized, it is wholly itself. It will never be a marigold, or a daisy or a tomato. This is how it is for people. Yet for us, many things get in the way of our original seed growing into what it is in its truest nature. Allowing for time to connect with our creativity is one way to clear the path for our true nature to grow up and into the light.
How Do I Tap Into My Creative Energy?
As promised in the title of this piece, I want to give you my go-to ideas for how to cultivate, reignite or tend to your creative life. This is not an exhaustive list and many books have been written on this. My favorite so far is The Artist’s Way, and if this topic is of interest to you, I highly recommend it.
But for now…
~ Accept the idea that you are a creative person with energy inside of you that is unique to you and is valuable to this world.
~ Accept that expressing your creativity is not selfish, meaningless or a waste of time. My teacher Susan Barrett Merrill said to me once that in fact, we do good for the world when we allow the gifts that we have to flow through us and out, and that when we take time to be with ourselves and create and make, we add that energy to our environment. She said that to me because I struggled with this one myself.
~ Make things easier for yourself. Here’s an example: If you like to paint or want to paint but think that the only way to paint is to buy all the expensive tools and materials you’ll need, and create a space in your home that is only for painting, and that you have to take a class before you start painting, and that you have to carve out a few hours every day to paint or it’s not worth it… guess what? You won’t paint. If you’re a busy person with a bustling life and lots of responsibilities that might be hard to stretch at first, start small. Twenty-five years ago, an artist friend of mine gave me these kinds of paints and this kind of paper so that I could delve into making things. He told me back then, “you are an artist”. I said, “no, I’m not at all an artist. You are an artist and I’ll leave that to you talented people out there.” Well, guess what? I still use those paints (a different set now because I used the set up!) and while I’ll not be exhibiting my watercolor paintings in any galleries, I love them and they inspire me to make other things.
~ Minimize distractions, but be realistic. One of the things that really gets in the way is the idea that “If I can’t dedicate hours to what what I want to do, then it’s not worth it.” This is a lie. There are ways to build in moments to connect with self via the creative path. Maybe there’s a day in a busy person’s life where settling in for some extended sewing isn’t possible, but a smaller handwork project is if you have a little basket with your bag of notions and some fabric. So is looking at books or magazines that inspire or teach. So is sitting on a front stoop or by a window and looking out at the world and gathering inspiration for a future project.
I wove this piece in 15 to 20 minute increments over the course of a month. It’s random and was an attempt to learn and play with color, as well as to make sure I wove “every *%$@ day”, to quote Tommye McClure Scanlin
~ Have at the ready small ways you can do the things you love. I’m taking this tapestry class right now with Rebecca Mezoff, and it’s wonderful. I now have a little bag with all the essentials to easily bust out a drawing, a note, or even a small weaving if I find myself in a place where I can create.
~ Make dates with yourself to do the larger things. And honor them. These are as important as anything else. (I think this is incredibly hard for many people.)
~ Don’t compare yourself to others. This is top-shelf creativity energy kryptonite. Don’t do this. If you do find yourself struggling with these crushing thoughts, let your inner judge know, “It’s okay. I won’t (you fill in the blank with whatever your judge is saying). We are just playing and we are safe.” Sometimes our inner judge thinks it’s helping to protect us from something, so it needs to know that you are going to try to enjoy your creativity more and nothing bad will happen.
~ Visit local antique stores, art galleries, museums, flea markets, book stores, parks, outdoor art installations, open studio days, farmer’s markets… most of these are free and give you the opportunity to look around see what you’re drawn to.
Hopefully, if you’re still reading, I’ve made my case that it’s worth it and important to engage with your creative energy, and it doesn’t have to be expensive or unrealistically time consuming. You are a unique expression of life and within you are ways to engage with this expression so you and others can know it better. Why not go for it? Time passes whether we engage with ourselves or not, so in my view, we may as well make the most of it and see what we can create.
Healing Handcrafting 