My Antidote is also My Gift

My Antidote is also My Gift

Tada.. And then it was revealed, whilst stirring my pot of porridge.
Written this time last year as Autumn arrived upon the doorstep of my tiny home and garden. I was reluctant to share this in the moment as it streamed through; it was so precious to my heart at the time, and still is. But it is time to move on, move forward and birth the next phase of my life.

 

My gift is also my antidote; to my own struggles, feelings of excitement, nervousness, anxiety in this fast paced world.

 

The slowness, stillness and peacefulness that can occur through working with our hands, is an antidote to our modern dilemma of hurriedness and disconnection. I said to a colleague once that my gift to the children of today was slowness and presence. I was clear about that and it felt so true and right in that moment. When I started teaching a class of 28 six year olds, I just could not offer my gift to the children and the world the way I had intended, in a way that felt right and good. This was due to the curriculum, timetable and the shear amount we were supposed to fit in, plus the expectations of others. It was heart breaking and slowly ate away at my joy, my life force.

 

Many aspects of the modern world try to pull me out of this space of deep knowing; to ignore my bleed time and cyclical nature, to earn money, to progress. It wrenches me out of being and into a manic doing. In this space it is hard to feel connected to the true essence of the thing I actually set out to do/ to be.

 

It is with great willing and inner work that we have to hold this space for ourselves. No one else will do it for us; they have their own wild ride to partake in. Finding that time and space within my day, within myself, is not selfish, it is self-love. The more connected I am to something grater; the more I feel my gifts stream through my body which can then be offered to the world.

 

It feels radical to claim this space, even to state such a knowing of myself, like watch out, someone may take it away from you. Is this just tall poppy syndrome that is so prevalent in our society that is edging me to think this way?!

 

For me the remembering is as simple as sitting down for fifteen minutes and passing the shuttle through the open sheds of threads, treadling slowly, row by row and watching the cloth build up. I return home.

 

Whenever I am wound up, this work undoes me, in a good way. What I offer to you is also an offering to humanity. Day by day I see the increase in the capability of tech, taking us more and more away from truly what it means to be human. To use my hands again, with skill, with touch, with feeling, I am able to experience being human again. This combined with community, being with people, working away together on creative tasks, is so absolutely fulfilling. It is why when we gather as a group of women without children, without the needs and wants of others, we feel so nourished by each other, by the process. Why do we deny ourselves this simple pleasure?!

 

I feel something brewing for the future. I know I have tiptoed around a bit, sharing bits and pieces, this and that, and where things are going for me and my offering; however, it is a combination of everything that has led me to this moment and where I am today. It is still not fully clear how this will look so I won’t share it just yet. I am both excited and slightly terrified for how this will all unfold. Alas I can’t wait to share it with you as it comes into being.

 

For now, take care and happy weaving!

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