My post is late this month because I’ve hurt my back something wicked and it’s really had me down for the count. Life has been very full and I’ve not been terribly good at following the advice that is the title of this post. This month’s Summoning Creativity effort is offered to me as much as it is to you.
Until recent history, the slow growth reflected in the natural world and in the required crafts of daily living was all there was. Our bodies and minds evolved thanks to, and in support of, slow growth. Today, we live in a culture that not only makes it possible to force growth but often expects it. While we don’t have to eschew technological or human progress, we must weave the appreciation for slow growth back into the tapestry of our lives if we hope to move toward a more harmonious relationship with the natural environment that surrounds us.
This writing made me nod and exclaim out loud, “yes, thank you for this reminder”. I read it a few days before I hurt my back, and I find myself going back to it now when just sitting to weave or stitch or even read is somewhat challenging because there is no comfortable position I can be in for very long.
Applying these words to my own healing is a learning edge to me. Over the last several years, I’ve had several injuries and physical realities that have forced me to reckon with the impatience I have with my own body. While I relish slow growth, slow healing is a whole other matter. I’ve got a lot of work to do there.
And once again, I have the opportunity to reckon with this issue of mine.
How will I do it?
My current thinking is to relate to the pain I’m feeling in a visual way. I want to look at images of the muscles, nerves and vertebrae that are communicating with me. Maybe I’ll draw them, or stitch them, or at some point, weave them. I will add color and texture to impatience, to my tendency to force healing on myself (which never works), and I will try to relate to the parts of me that have some slow growing to do, namely patience with and compassion for… me.
So, here we go.
Do you have health issues that impact your making? How do you reckon with these themes?
One of the classes I teach at the Shelburne Craft School is called Weaving Your Story. The chance to meld my love of weaving with my passions for healing, growth and creativity has been a true boon in my life. The program is fully grant funded by grantors and an anonymous donor making it cost free for participants. The Vermont Arts Council, being a grantor and a great supporter of the program, recently interviewed me to talk about Weaving Your Story and I wanted to share the article with you here. It captures so much of what the class is about and how I feel about it!
In case you are wondering how weaving and creative expression can be healing, I think the conversation gets at it well. Enjoy!
I spend a lot of time thinking about how we become more of ourselves in the way that Murray Bowen defined as differentiation. Simply put, differentiation is about how well we can hold on to our own thinking, even in the face of group pressure, others’ reactivity, and our own anxiety that arises in relation to these things. The better we are at regulating ourselves, the more flexible we are, and capable of maintaining equilibrium in a variety of circumstances. Conversely, the more anxious we are or become as a result of some emotional group process unfolding, the more we make decisions from a highly emotional place. Or, we find ourselves fully swimming in the waters of emotional process, and our decisions cannot be distinguished from those of the group.
Efforts to define self at any given time are the building blocks that help us develop a more differentiated stance in the world (and therefore less fused with the intensity of whatever system we are within). Checking in on, and keeping track of, what we think on any given topic is one way of doing this. For example, as I raise my kids, who are both teenagers now, I can defer to others and find out what they say is the right way to raise a kid and follow their prescription for how to do it, or I can think something like, “what is important to me as I parent my children through their teens, and how do I view my role in their journey towards adulthood?” And I think on it. And I answer the questions. Some of my answers might be informed by information I garner from people whose opinions I value. But first, they are run through the filter of my intellect. What do I think about what they think?
I’d love to say that I am able to do this all the time, but news flash: I’m a reactive person who’s been working on myself for years, and my success rate of defining my own thinking to myself before reacting to something is… well… it depends on the circumstances!
Anyway, this is where the bridge to my thinking on creativity appears on the map of my journey in this life. I think that by tending to our own creativity, we are greasing the gears of differentiation.
Here’s why:
Creativity involves having the spark of an idea. Anything new, innovative, functional, delicious, beautifully made or arranged, etc., happened because someone, somewhere, had an idea. And it didn’t end there. The idea became an action. “What if I do this?” became… “Check this out!” Suddenly, we had sculpted pots to hold things, woven or sewn materials to warm, adorn, protect, sail, contain, and tools to carve, cut, and shape… that spark of an idea is the seed of all that we have, for better or worse.
I see micro-expressions of this very thing in my own creative practice and in the conversations I have with other makers. As a weaver, I must make so many little choices, so many nuanced moves, adjustments, decisions. Each one is an articulation of an idea, an opinion, a preference. And while I learn from incredible teachers, like Rebecca Mezoff and Elizabeth Buckley, I also have to assimilate their teachings into my own mind and decision-making process. I think that when we have these opportunities in our lives to articulate choice and preference, we have ever more chance to articulate ourselves back to ourselves and to others! It’s amazing.
Why is this important? Because we all need to be doing our best thinking. Really, we should be trying to do this all the time, but especially if we are living in places that are in turmoil. The likelihood of losing track of our own critical thinking and judgment in the face of high intensity societal emotional process is increased. The more we are aware of this, the more we can keep our hands on the steering wheel of our own decisions, lives, and futures.
The more we know our own minds and tend to the sparks of our ideas, the more engaged we will be as a whole self.
And, the more of a whole self we are, the more choice we will have.
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.
This year is off to a very raucous and rather painful start. I know I am not alone in feeling this way, but I wanted to share with you what has been happening because it is so relevant to the topic of this site, which is in a word, grief.
Just over three weeks ago, my father died. Six weeks to the day prior to his death, my grandmother died. In a matter of six weeks, my family lost two elders, and the reality of this is continuing to seep into my mind, heart, and bones.
Several people have asked me if the book I wrote with Pamela Blair has helped me deal with my grief. It’s been an interesting thing to think about. Going through the process of losing my dad with my family, I often thought to myself, “my god, I cannot believe how much this hurts.” There were times in the hospital as well as at my dad’s wake when I didn’t feel my feet on the ground. There were times sobs erupted from my body without warning. There was a lot of sleeplessness and anxiety. What I realized was that knowing about grief doesn’t alter the pain of grief. But what it has done for me is to normalize my experience of it and not judge myself for anything. Steeping myself in research on grief and talking with so many people about their experience of it, I see that when we go through grief, we know it. When we listen to people who are suffering without trying to rush them to feel better, we absorb and open our hearts to humanity. We become part of the fabric of our shared experience, and it is textured, layered, real.
Our “culture” is often accused of not doing death and grief right. Collectively, we don’t talk about it enough, we keep it away from us and fear it. We try to outlive death and deny its existence. There is evidence of all of that, for sure. But I can say that going through these last couple of months, I’ve witnessed far more people getting grief than not. At my father’s wake, tons of people came and not one person said anything that made me bristle or think, “wow, they just don’t get it.” Mine and my family’s pain was held, responded to tenderly, and with deep interest and compassion. I wasn’t able to attend my grandmother’s services due to having COVID-19 but I feel sure the same energy was present for my family then.
What I do see in our culture is that capitalism and our bowing at the altar of work is a huge problem. One family member of mine had two unpaid days of bereavement for the death of a close family member. Two unpaid days. What? Is that a joke? Several others’ jobs had policies that were a little better than that and their management was very accommodating given the unbelievable losses affecting our family. But it’s important to know this: federal law does not require organizations or companies to include bereavement leave in their benefits packages. As of April 2023, only five states in the US had bereavement leave laws; three additional states had bereavement legislation efforts in the works. “As the Family and Medical Leave Act stands, bereavement is not an acceptable condition for taking unpaid leave from work.” Time minimums for bereavement leave as well as payment structures vary from state to state (or those five states that have actual bereavement laws). citation
For the rest of the country, it is up to the company or organization to determine their own bereavement policies including whether to have them at all. The typical scenario is three- to five-days leave. Sometimes these days are paid, sometimes not, sometimes a hybrid of the two. The size and financial constraints of companies obviously affect this to some degree. Also important to note, only 56% of the population works for places that even have benefit packages. What do hourly workers or those that are self-employed do when they suffer a loss or a family tragedy?
With this kind of pressure to get back to work, there is an underlying communication which is basically, “get yourself together enough to get back out there”, which for many people following the death of a loved one requires faking it. Big time. Feeling distracted, depressed, exhausted, confused, and vulnerable are very common emotional experiences following a loved one’s death, and having to fake it can make things more difficult for people. In fact, for some this is an added layer of trauma that complicates grief in the years to come.
I feel incredibly fortunate to have been in a position where I could take the time I needed to gather myself back into a place that was fit for work. I continue to be in a place where I can do what I need to do to take care of myself. But I am aware that this is not the case for many people, and that is unacceptable. I think this cultural problem of not “doing grief right” is less a human problem and more a political and economic problem.
In sharing these thoughts with you, I am channeling the energy of my dad. He had strong opinions about politics and policy. I loved talking to him about these kinds of things and often called him to get his opinion on something or his long-view perspective on issues I didn’t fully understand. I’ve gone to call him numerous times in the last couple of weeks, looking to catch up and shoot-the-breeze. I’ll miss doing that so much but hopefully he knows (and I believe he does) that I’ll keep at it and continue to advocate for what I believe in.
And if you’re reading this because you are grieving, you are not alone. I hope you are taking all the chances you can to be tender to yourself and that you hold yourself with all the compassion you would afford another person. ~ Bradie
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!
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 can’t believe it’s finally happened, but this week I received a box of books, all of them The Long Grief Journey: How Long-Term Unresolved Grief Can Affect Your Mental Health and What You Can Do About It. In spring of 2020, my friend Pamela Blair who co-wrote I Wasn’t Ready to Say Goodbye and is the author of several other titles, asked if I’d be interested in writing a book about long-term grief. I wrote about that moment here. And now, a month before its release (on February 14, 2023), I get to hold it and read it and show it to people. Wow. What a trip!
It’s been a long time since The Long Grief Journey was picked up by Sourcebooks and I owe a debt of gratitude to the wonderful editor who saw the value in making our work available to people and helping us to shape it and edit it well- thank you Erin! In the last year, the waiting for the book to come to print was starting to make it all feel a little bit unreal, and a little scary and then a little disorienting- wait, we’re almost at the release date?! I need to get a new outfit or something! But now, holding the book in my hands, I remember it all: the first invitation to join Pam in the project, the jumping into researching and brainstorming and writing, rewriting and collaborating, submitting and waiting and hoping and praying and now… here it is. And I am proud. Grateful and maybe even a little bewildered, too. To be able to use my own grief experience while being honored by so many people sharing their stories with us has in many ways brought an intimacy and more open heart to my day to day than ever existed before. Maybe the word is humbled? My heart feels tenderized.
If you end up reading the book, I hope you find it useful. We really are all walking this road together.
Is the planet spinning faster than usual? Quick upticks here and there? Here’s a bit of life lately…
First of all, there’s more evidence that shows that my yarn obsession is good for me! Read this great article! And, jam making is most definitely in my future.
Below is a piece I made that started out as a woven boat, but as I had to keep tinkering with a too-loose warp I began thinking about those fleeing war-torn Syria on boats too small, too packed and too weak. It became a meditation for me and I decided to donate the money from the sale of this boat to the Refugee Resettlement Program in Vermont. It will be for sale at an upcoming Holiday Pop-Up.
Here’s my littlest love feeling the Christmas spirit.
My mom always put dolls and fairies and magic in our Christmas trees. I hope I can do it even a fraction as well.
Beautiful tree lights our mornings and evenings.
My spinning wheel has been busy, busy! I have much more yarn to make but it’s been lovely!
A basket of color from my store bought stash. I think a wildly outrageous sweater is in there somewhere, waiting to be born.
I’m not sure what to say except that every year these things make me smile.
Him, too…
The sun’s departure time most assuredly has a bit to do with my sense of speediness. I have to alter my idea that things need to be done by dark, or be fine with not as much getting done. The latter is hard for me…
Healing Handcrafting 