Tuesday, January 24, 2017
The last several months have left me feeling anxious, uncertain, untethered. I've sat an immeasurable amount of hours staring out my window watching the birds peck at the ground. Eating the seeds that have fallen from the feeder and pecking and scratching something new from underneath. Pecking and scratching. It's when I put those words to what I was watching that I . . . that I . . .. That I what? I don't know. That I started to feel something more. The current state of politics across the globe, yes. But also my oldest is in her last year of high school. I've written before about this changing dynamic. The road trips visiting colleges. The lens through which I look that frames every event, moment and thing as "the last time." I've started stitching hearts. I already believe that stitching and giving a quilt is an act of love. I'm stitching up heart blocks and feel love, gratitude, acceptance, peace, and compassion well up inside of me as I do. I need another quilt like I need another hole in my head. And yet, I need this quilt most of all.