Recently I watched the anime movie, Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms, and at one point someone offers their sage advice to the main character to let the fabric she weaves tell her story and weep for her. Or something like that. I confess that this is one of those movies that hits me right in the “feels” and I spent the entire time crying, so my memory of the exact conversation is probably lacking. But, you know, close enough.
That idea got me thinking. I also enjoy weaving, and while I don’t have the ability to literally encode messages into the cloth I make, I can still pour my intentions into it.
So I made a “story cloth” for myself. As I passed the shuttle back and forth between my hands, I meditated deeply on all of the events of this past year, so now it can always hold the truth of my experiences. It holds my story for me, so that I can let it go and move forward to create a new one.
I’m a bit of a metaphorical person, but we already knew that. The funny thing about being a genre writer is how it bleeds into reality, and I have a touch of that magical thinking in everything I do.
The yarn is Lily Sugar n Cream cotton, and I hand-dyed it myself. It’s small enough to fit neatly on the top of my dresser, with plenty of room for … all those other things that seem to end up on top of dressers, lol. The hand-dyed colors combined with plain weave make me think of crosshatching with colored pencils, and it’s especially pleasant to look at from a distance.
I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to take a moment to share my two cents:
During my class on domestic violence, there was a time when the teacher gave us the assignment to do something nice for ourselves during the week. Most of the other women said that they were going to do things like giving themselves more patience, more compassion, more understanding, which are all very good things. But the problem is that when one is eyeballs deep in stressful situations and in the process of healing from emotional damage, it’s hard to remember abstract ideals like patience. Plus, how do you measure if you’re giving yourself “more”? How do you know if you’ve succeeded?
My belief is that it’s better to tie those ideals to something physical. Whatever you chose should be very individual and personal, but an example could be a bead necklace, and every time you catch yourself fiddling with it, you tell yourself, “I am worthy of patience. I am allowed heal at my own pace.”
You see?
Or maybe acrylic fingernails that serve to remind you that you’re worthy of feeling beautiful. A sweater that helps you feel comfort. A ring that keeps you grounded whenever you twist it on your finger.
Something. Anything. The objects themselves don’t matter as much as the thoughts that you tie onto them. The point is to remind you to think the sorts of thoughts that you want to be thinking.
Of course, my disclaimer again is that I’m not perfect. This is something that has helped me cope so I’m sharing it with you, but I am by no means an expert or a therapist.
By Autumn Rain 