may 6, 2012

one of the things that i've realized recently is that mending is rarely a one-time event. this shirt has been one of my favourites for years, and i've mended it at least five times since i bought it at this little shop on st-viateur in montreal in 2003.

a lesson i've learned from clothes specifically is that we have to keep an eye on the weak points because that's where the tears and pulls show up. people are the same: our weak points are where the damage happens, over and over, and we need to take the time to mend. however many times it takes, and for however long it takes. lingering on a hurt and re-grieving it often feels like a failure, but it's not.

when there's a tear, you mend it.
when there's a hurt, you mend it.
same scenario, different level of stigma.
but both need to happen.

with this shirt, the weak point has always been where the arm and bodice meet. both sides. i continually find holes there:

tonight, i mended with a contrasting stitch to show myself which generation of mend it is. next time, i'll use a different colour thread.

may 5, 2012

you know what's the most amazing thing? spending time with kids. they combine perception and enthusiasm with a flexible & curious mind. and, once they decide where they're going, they run. they do not walk. there's something to be said for that.

my mending today was kidlet time. i.e.: spending time with the two sweet and wonderful offspring of a family i know.

one of the adults and the two kids and i went to a beltane ritual today on a friend's land in the middle of a green, green patch of forest to celebrate life and the sources of life, set some intentions for the fertile season, eat together, dance around the maypole and generally make merriment.

it was beautiful.

during the ritual, the woman who was leading the proceedings said something that stuck with me: "this land once was wild." in paganism, it's really common for the earth and the human body to be seen as interchangeable, so i instantly thought about the people standing around the circle. these bodies, these territories – some occupied, some struggling, some liberated. perhaps a mix, depending on the day?

but no one exemplifies liberation like kids. so long as they've been nurtured and loved, they radiate a free body, spirit and mind. i remember back to being a kid: running...always running, the joy of a body, laughing freely and crying loudly whenever it was warranted, doing and wearing what feels good and reaching freely for the hand of a new friend without a second thought.

these are the marks of wildness.
this is where i plan to return.

may 4, 2012

tonight, my mending was to go for a walk and listen and write down what i heard. sometimes, if i'm feeling a lot all at once and don't know what to do with it, i'll go out and wander amongst other people and keep my ears open. you'd be surprised what it can do.

it's not like i purposely decided to do that tonight, but as i walked it started happening. maybe it was because i left my phone at home and didn't feel rushed? in any case, there i was: tuning in and taking note.

as i passed twosomes and groups and solo walkers, i realized that this, the mundane, is the greatest beauty we have. it's the sound of life continuing despite everything: the regular rush of passing buses, the pattern of footfall, the warp and weave of conversation, the relentless repetition of routine, the worries and the victories and the changes that either make a pass at us or pass us by.

it's all moving so much and so quickly, and it's made up of these small moments.

when a man squeezes his girlfriend's hand and asks her so tenderly, "do you want a slice of carrot cake?"

when a woman takes a drag of her cigarette and, on the exhale, she says, "he supports me in everything i do. ev-er-y-thing."

when a girl in heels clicks a crescendoed approach from behind me, and she warns her friend, "be careful."

it's this love and joy and worry. it's eating and getting hungry. it's having too much inside and aiming your tongue at the words you need. it's shyness and missed moments. it's the pride and pathos of risk. how things ache less in movement than in stillness. that beating heart of yours. how it likes to move.

we're living this world; it's not living us.
maybe it would help to remember that?
we're not alone. not really.
listen.
beauty is a collision.
it sets off the chill of the night.

may 3, 2012

a few weeks ago, i started mending my relationship to sex. actively. heh heh. i know...i know...too lecherous, right? :P

okay, i'll just tell you the story instead. i've been pretty gun-shy about sex and dating since the breakup last fall. probably even before then.

but, for a couple months now, i've been all about this whole openness and spontaneity thing – which you already know because i've written about it here. i've been focusing all my energy on engaging rather than withdrawing, admitting rather than hiding and showing rather than telling. (if you know what i mean... :P) and it has made SUCH a difference!

it might be partly the influence of spring, and all this teeming life energy springing up everywhere, but it feels like a whole new world out there for me. one that requires less effort. one that induces more calm and joy. one where i'm more confident and more vulnerable at the same time. who knew that was possible?

one of the coolest (and most unexpected) side effects of this openness thing is that i've been having more things come to me. usually, i ask people out rather than being asked out. i lean in for the first kiss. i ask for help rather than having it offered. not lately. lately, it's been flowing like a fountain, baby!

my mending project tonight is going to be my sheets. one of the things that i noticed when i took my things out of storage this week is that my sheets are very much the worse for wear...

they need attention, so mend them i will!

i took a regular needle and thread to the tears for some on-the-spot mending. it feels so damn important to be doing this. to set the scene properly for lovin' and self-lovin'.

a foundation, if you will.

oh, and to my detractors who would suggest that beige sheets invite boring sex, i say this: may what's happening between the sheets ALWAYS be 100 times more exciting than the sheets themselves.

ladies and gentlemen, sexiness is on the mend!

may 2, 2012

tonight, i'm mending a mirror.

a while back, the wire that has held it up for nearly two decades snapped and, ever since it's been awkwardly leaning on the wall like a wallflower. i think it's time to change that.


here's to being upright and helping things to be seen clearly!

to repair the mirror, i took off the original wire and replaced it with a length of quadrupled 28 gauge wire that i twisted together to make it strong.

(now, there's a good rule: only rely on that which is strong enough to hold you up!)

the pic below shows you the final result:

may 1, 2012

one word: triumph.
my life is out of storage!

moving day went really well today.
HOOOOOOORAAAAAAAY!

i think it's cool that i was surrounded by such devoted and awesome worker bees on may day; all of us working toward the same goal. there was a lot to do and so much grace despite time pressures and physical tiredness. we got shit done with minimal complaint and maximum fun. so many silly voices and much car singing.

i also think it's cool that i'm making this big life transition on beltane: the high day of fertility and love. may my creative life be rich in this cozy new home of mine. may there be much good company given and received in this space. may only warmth and passion and compassion and love and mutual support pass between people here.

it feels good. it all feels so good.

and, now, i sleep.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

april 30, 2012

it's my very last night staying with the lovely lili k. tomorrow i move into my own place. i don't know where the time went, but i've already spent a third of the year here. wow.

this has been a safe, warm place to cocoon. a place to come back from numbness and despair and start to be who i am again. it's not an overstatement to say i've come back to life here. it's been my cozy cave. a place to giggle and cry and sing silly songs and complain and worry and cook and dream and write and freak out and talk about things. i'm so grateful to have lived here with one of the most loving humans i've ever met. i know that i'm safe and loved and welcome here in a way that's unmarred by doubt. that's a rare and precious thing.

thank you, lili.
know that i will shelter you anytime.
in any way you need.

in thinking about the year so far, i realized something: these last four months, i've been mending my happiness. it was tattered and sagging when i arrived at lili's at the end of 2011. now, while i'm certainly still marked by what i've lived, my happiness is whole again. and growing. it's happened so slowly and steadily, that i hadn't really noticed the transformation until today.

this afternoon, as i was packing my things, i came across a tassel. it belongs to the pillow pictured above. when i bought the pillow at a small buddhist store on bank street a few years back, it was supposed to be a reminder about spiritually-oriented happiness; to aim for contentment rather than gratification. one by one, all the tassels on the pillow have fallen off in the last year – symbolic much??? *laugh* when i left my ex's house in december, it was sudden and without most of my things. but this pillow was one of the essential things i grabbed on the way out.

the pillow says:
happiness. when one's spiritual needs are met by an untroubled innerlife. happiness comes when your work and words are of benefit to yourself and others.

that's the kind of happiness i'm talking about.
a kind, joyful, calm, centred, engaged peace.

tonight, i'm going to put the first tassel back on the happiness pillow. as i unpack and settle into my new place, i imagine i'll find the other tassels, which are tucked away in boxes somewhere. and i'll sew them back on, one by one. it seems appropriate somehow: a gradual process merits a gradual mend.

here's a picture with the first tassel sewn back on:

wish me luck in moving my life out of storage tomorrow!
life life life. thank you.