I am not a big fan of change, I just don't like it. That's not to say I don't like trying new things, meeting new people or trying a new recipe. I am just content with things as they are. I've lived in the same house for over 27 years, still have friends I went to high school with and carried the same two purse for three years. I have sat in the same pew at church for ten years, before that I sat one pew over on the left. However, since my heart attack three months ago I've experienced a lot of changes. Some good, some not. I've had to go back to "square one" on a lot of things. I cannot walk long distances without getting winded. When I wake up in the morning it takes 5 minutes to take all my pills. And wherever I go I look for the ladies room before anything else. This doesn't seem like much but to me it can sometimes be a little overwhelming. And just the feeling of being overwhelmed is new to me.
I keep wondering just how it is that I am able to handle all that has happened in the past few months. I know God has given me peace and strength to deal with the changes I'm experiencing but He has also provided a place of comfort and familiarity. That is in needle and thread. I have been doing fiber arts for 50 years . The types of projects I do now vary, ranging from quilting to ribbon embroidery. The supplies vary also, but they all have one thing in common, needle and thread. Stitching is like home to me. My grandma taught me to embroider when I was in first grade. I still use DMC floss on some of my projects. I never grow tired of holding the needle or feeling the thread glide through my fingers. Stitching and sewing bring me comfort and pleasure that I cannot find anywhere else. It's as if it is part of my very being. I cannot imagine ever leaving it for very long. I am so grateful God has given me the ability to do this and filled me with a love for this medium.
Sometimes I have a difficult time focusing my attention. I'm told this is common after trauma. However, again, I am grateful for the constant that stitching provides. It is simple motions, piercing the fabric and drawing the fiber through, over and over. The repetition gives my comfort and joy. I am no longer in recovery, I am just doing what I love to do. The same love I've had for 5 decades.
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)