Self Care

 Taking care of myself has been my M.O. these days, and it feels pretty good.  I've been running again, and although I'm extremely pokey, it just doesn't seem to matter.  One of my self-preservation techniques involves not passing judgement on what I do; I just make sure that my intention is true, and go from there.  What a freeing concept!  So I "run" two times around Capitol Lake, which is a 1.5 mile loop of easy, flat, and not paved terrain.  Mergansers, Buffleheads, Blue Herons, and other waterfowl frequent these waters, and I find that I can get a nice meditation in while I run.  Pictured here is a male Hooded Merganser, who was fishing.  Below is a shot of Capitol lake looking towards downtown Olympia.

I also just made myself a new bag.  This is my Medium Sized messenger bag.  It's smaller than the bigger Diaper bag that I make, but it can still fit a standard file folder and all of my essentials (water bottle, cell phone, lip balm, day planner, book, and an extra pair of socks (you never know when you might need those!)).  I found this awesome fabric and knew I had to have it.  It is distributed by Alexander Henry and it is a home decor weight; feels a bit like a lightweight canvas.  And Mom, if you're reading this, your two bags are all cut out (finally) and ready to be sewn.  I haven't forgotten!

The Flow of Things

I know it has been a while since my last post.  I have been spending a lot of time in deep thought, and just going through my day in slow motion; doing what feels right in the moment.  Although the loss of Bronwyn is terribly painful and I miss her deeply, I am beginning to heal in small ways.  I am starting to sleep better, and I'm starting to feel creative again. 

One of the things that helped me was to move my sewing studio into Bronwyn's room.  I had been spending a lot of time in her room, wanting to feel close to her, and Brian suggested that I move my workspace there so that I could let myself have a natural flow from grief to creativity. 

The first project that I worked on was a hand sewn wool felt cover for the box that Bronwyn's ashes are in.  It felt good to make something important for her as a way to initiate our shared space.  I used hand dyed felted merino wool as the fabric, and linen thread for stitching.  The buttons came from my collection that Bronwyn used to play with. 

 I am beginning to  feel ready to embark on other projects and have several in the works. I plan on coming back to my blog and to the rest of the world on a more consistent basis now.  Healing has multiple parts, it seems, and for me the first part was stillness.  This next part will be activity and stillness together.  Thank-You for your patience and support through my process.  I love you.

Journeying

I am experiencing a strangeness in letting Bronwyn go.  I know that her soul is free of her body and that the two are no longer connected.  Yet I don't quite fully understand the concept.  I still think of her as having a body, as needing bodily comforts.  I wonder if she's getting enough hugs and kisses.  If she's eating well.  If she's being taken care of.  Does she miss me?  Is she scared?  To help myself feel some easing in this physical department, I created a treasury collection of things that I would send with her on her journey, if I could.  Just some silly things to comfort her, and remind her that she is loved.

Here it is:

http://www.etsy.com/treasury/4d1510bff7e16d9113ec03b0/for-her-next-journey

The Darkest Night

It is here.  The longest night.  The word solstice is derived from the latin sol, which means, "Sun" and sistere, which means, "to stand still."  This year, I feel in equilibrium with the darkness, and one of my favorite poems comes to mind: 

To Know the Dark

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.

To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,

and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,

and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.”

- Wendell Berry

from “To Know the Dark”, Farming: A Handbook

(Harcourt Brace, 1970)



Seams for Comfort

I find myself in a mystical place of joy and sorrow.  It is difficult to explain and I'm not sure that the explaining will be clarifying anyhow.  So I will tell you what comforts me,  what I've been doing. 

My community has been amazing for the support that I've received.  Flowers, food, cards, hugs, cups of tea, company, and space (when requested) have all been generously and lovingly given. 

Walking and exercise have been invaluable for clearing my head.

The ritual of lighting a candle for Bronwyn reminds me that her flame is alive and with me always.  Someday, that reminder will be present without the physical presence of the candle, but for now the presence of the light helps me.

Also, I have been sewing again.  Not designing, that takes too much creative energy.  But sewing what I know provides a meditative experience, and something for my always figity hands to do.  When we left for the hospital over a month ago, I had been right in the middle of production for the holiday.  So I've finished what I started and my inventory is quite impressive (it looks like I've been busier than I actually have been).  Now I need to photograph everything and get it listed.  I also participated in two local craft fairs with my business partner.  I wasn't sure how it would feel, but it was lovely to get out and be distracted.

The clutch pictured is designed by the talented Keykalou, who has a shop on Etsy.  I purchased the pattern (and the rights to sell my handmade work from her pattern) so that I could just sew without having to think.  I love the shape and feel of this clutch and the way it features the fabric so nicely.

I raise my mug of tea to the day, and let the tears come when they will.  Smiles and hugs follow.

Solitude Standing

Here I am.  At the beginning.  At the end.  A re-birth of sorts. 

I am a vagabond in my own life at the moment, but a vagabond with potential.  What that will look like, I don't know, but I am open to finding out.

 It has been raining buckets this past week, and two days ago I went to one of our local watersheds, McLane Creek, for a few hours of dripping silence.  The chum salmon run had just finished, and their bodies were strewn about the banks of the creek, effort and passion spent.  New Hemlocks grew up from rotting stumps, and moss and lichens re-claimed old branches. 

I reflected on the cycle of life, and felt the reason in it; the peace of it. 

It was a healing walk.

And so it begins.

What She Gave Me

It has been a long while since I've posted, and I wish I could tell you that it has been so long because of normal busy reasons.  The past month and a half have been difficult because my beautiful daughter suffered from seizures terribly, and the day before Thanksgiving, Bronwyn passed away in the Pediatric ICU in Seattle after all attempts to gain control of her seizures failed. 

I ache with missing her.

I know that grief is a process, and I'm only just beginning.  But I re-read this post that I wrote late in October, and realize how much Bronwyn has taught me about living my life thoughtfully.  Bronwyn has given me so much in her short life, and I realize that she continues to give even now after she's gone.  I take comfort in the knowledge that her flame can burn brightly through my actions, and that her flame can be shared with others.  That is so healing all by itself.

What Bronwyn Gave Me:

Patience

Compassion

Perspective

Love

An understanding of selfless giving

The ability to listen

Joy

How to listen to my heart

The ability to be a strong advocate

The importance of receiving: this is something she's teaching me now.

Thank-You my sweet daughter.  I love you forever; you are always with me. 

Until we meet again.