. . . with myself. That’s how I’ve been feeling lately.
I have allowed my natural rhythms to be interrupted in ways that are counterproductive. In the interludes between very welcome and much-loved guests, I have not picked up where I left off and now it seems to be hard work out where I was. I know that under these circumstances a repetitive activity helps so I spent five hours mending . . . just plying a needle through soft cotton. I was carrying out more repairs on an Indian quilt that I have had for many years and I’m facing the fact that it has a limited number seasons left in it depending upon how tenderly I treat it. I blogged about it as cloth as a metaphor, another beginning, and a job well done
At one time I would never have thought mending would be so satisfying. If it’s for someone else I think of them, what they mean to me, what hopes I have for them, and offer my love. If it’s for me, as in this case, it quiets me and I get drawn into this old cloth as a metaphor for my life. I shall have to say goodbye to it eventually but for now . . . maintenance is key.
Settling into this feeling of unease, of inertia, is okay . . . it will pass and will be followed by a period of activity and I’ll continue my work but right now I’m as changeable as this fickle weather we’re having. A few more hours work and I’ll be done, my quilt mended, my Self soothed and my mind clear. I’ll persevere.