My oh my how time has gone. The past half year has been consumed with cleaning up an old building and moving my sewing room in. I have opened up a darling little sewing/design studio in our small town with much excitement. So much time has gone into revamping the old building and it has been quite a trip. It finally feels like home and so inviting. The word is slowly getting out and soon, I hope to have an official open house as people have been curious about my commercial sewing machines and what it is I actually do. I can hardly wait to get my systems in place so I can get back to focusing on sewing! my true love!
Today is perfect with the sun warming us to the perfect temp - not too hot or humid, just perfect. I have a little birdhouse I had help making and I am having little sparrows going to take flight in the next or so. I always love watching them getting ready to leave the nest, then lining up on the wires outside my window and enjoying my butterfly tree. It has been a busy tree with woodpeckers, a noisy baby blue jay, a lovely hummingbird that loves to sit in the tree, preening itself. My roses couldn’t be more beautiful and prolific in their new place this year. Life is good.
My focus is now dressing dollies, girls, windows and beds! How much fun is this? Soon I will have a Facebook page to direct to my etsy stores and my local design studio so all can come see what I have to offer. A fun place and so very inspiring.
If you want to see girls dresses, go to www.dancingmaiden.etsy.com
Header tape to make your own curtains, go to www.berealinc.etsy.com
This link has my Dancing Maiden doll dresses, http://veesvictorians.com/t/collection/fashion-gallery-ltd
You will need to copy and paste the link. If you have any problems getting there, let me know and I will help.
Enjoy the day! Love much, laugh often and dream big!
Guest House Poem by Rumi
“This being human is a guest house. Every morning is a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor…Welcome and entertain them all. Treat each guest honorably. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.”
I am learning to welcome each of these guests into my home and have found by doing so, they do not stay as long, rather speak their truth then leave. It seems a much smoother way of living and with lack of resistance to each of them, the transition to light comes too.
I just love this darling little dress I made for a two year old. I took a really large t-shirt, cut off the bottom for the skirt then made rows and rows of ruffles for the bodice and armholes. I added heavy lace for the apron and detailed it with a satin rose with funky leaves and soft cream satin ribbon. This can be worn over a shirt or just as is. Come check it out at my store - www.dancingmaiden.etsy.com
It was a quiet, warm summer afternoon when my friend called and said he was going to snatch me away for a picnic. I resisted not and was happy to be by water and have an enjoyable evening. Quietly sitting at the picnic table in our small city park feet from the creek, my friend and I watched elementary aged boys playing wildly in the water as we ate our dinner. Several times, they ventured up the bank across from us and gathering up the nerve, postured one another until one began the jumping. A little concerned, we observed no attending adults to aid in help if needed. We looked at each other and agreed we would be there for them. The creek was waist deep; deeper on the shore closer to us, so jumping out far enough and carefully was necessary to avoid injury. After awhile they began to tire and become chilled so out they came and off they went.
A few minutes later a father came walking along the bank coaxing his young daughter in the creek, to walk up to where the boys had been playing. Apparently, she too wanted to experience jumping in after the boys had left. At the right spot she clambered up the hardened dirt bank in her wet summer dress on the bank across from us. She appeared to be about half the age of the boys. The father told her where to stand as he was standing just few feet from us. The mother soon joined.
Both my friend and I became quite concerned as the parents chatted a little between themselves. I could here the mother say something about the boys having jumped off and felt a question within her. Yet, if the boys had been doing it, it must be okay. It seemed dangerous to my friend and I that no one was in the water to help her should something happen.
It is interesting to me how fast the brain and emotions can send rapid fire thoughts and images of past events. Images of teenagers jumping off bridges, other places in our area where people were hurt jumping off into water. Water is a great disguise to what lies beneath. What may appear to be safe, may not be at all. My mind flashed thoughts of my father catching me as a little girl as I would jump into the water, feeling scared yet safe knowing my fathers arms were reaching out to catch me. Why wasn’t her father there with her? It was not safe for the little girl if the parents had not scoped the water themselves and there to catch her, she was too small.
I watched her reach out emotionally to her parents, listening to them, trusting when to jump and could see apprehension on her face and body. I felt both of us hold our breath as we didn’t want to see her jump, glancing at her then back to her parents. She trusted wholeheartedly her parents would keep her safe, yet you could feel the air with the question we all held. When she landed, water up to her armpits, a pained look came across her face, arms in the air and let out a loud cry. She was hurt! She had hurt her foot and looked for comfort but it was across on the other bank with no one close to help.
My friend and I intensely observed, alarmed at what we were watching. We both waited and I could wait no more. As the mother told the little girl, insisting that she swim over to her but she would not as you could see the pain, fear and hurt in her body. No life jacket, at least 20 feet away, no one else in the water and a hard dirt bank she had to figure how to climb up on. All she wanted to do was get out of the water and quickly. The mother threatened, stating that she would have to walk by herself back over the bridge if she came out of the water on that side and no one would help her. It was a long way to walk when in emotional and physical pain for one so young.
I could stand it no longer! I apologized for interrupting and told the mother “She needs you, she is hurt and you need to go to her.” Then the mother turned on me. All of a sudden the air was filled with attack and it became an incident between the mother and I. She gave me every justification in the book about how the girl was okay, I had no right to tell her what to do, I was telling her she was a bad parent….on and on. I said no, I was not telling her she was a bad parent and tried to focus on the needs of the daughter but she would have nothing to do with it. It became all about her being a good mother, not just a good mother but a perfect mother.
Have you experienced an emotional vortex when someone else’s shame body engages? All of a sudden it feels like you are in another world and trying to orient to what is going on. It’s that reptilian brain surviving to live with no reasoning. It takes over the conscious mind and one may not even be aware of it, most aren’t. It is vital to not succumb to the hooks being thrown out to engage in their battle.
It was as if arrows were wildly being shot at me to make me shut up and go away, to not care. I stayed focused on her, concerned and compassionate yet startled by her lack of attention to the daughter. Fortunately the father, yelling back at me how it was none of my business to involve myself, was on his way to his daughter. Yes, someone was going to help her.
Then shockingly, the last words this mother uncontrollably shot at me was how she held her dying daughter in her arms and how I didn’t have the right to tell her how to take care of her daughter. There it was! The pain, the shame and why she was not able to focus on her daughter. I knew she needed to vent and I let her, my heart and face became softer and I felt deep compassion and sorrow for her. I focused on her loss, the daughter was taken care of so I could focus on the mother. She was the one not getting her own needs met so how could she possibly reach out fully to her daughter? Her own nervous system had not been able to let go of her other daughter, she was caught in an internal prison lashing to get out and complete this horrible traumatic event in their lives, yet could not.
The pain and suffering landed in my heart and then what? Watching this interaction, I was sad for the family, glad that she could share her deepest pain and then prayed for them to find comfort and a way out of their prison. I have not lost a daughter in my arms and I too have suffered much loss; the loss of my father too young to die, holding his hand while life support was pulled and our family held hands singing him into heaven’s home, waiting for his last breath of life. I’ve experienced other events deeper yet and more scaring than this. I know pain and suffering. It was not the time to share, only to listen and…
… in this single moment of truth, the moment the mother had to tell me her loss, her deepest agony, we connected deeply, eye to eye and maybe….just for a moment she felt heard and the ravaging emotions of this death were heard long enough to maybe feel some solace. No judgment from me, only compassion and listening. Isn’t this what community is about? Collectively holding one another’s pain so healing can come. How I want to reach out to her to hold her, to let her cry, to help her release her daughter and knowing that is not mine to do. It is her journey and no one else’s. I too, must release her pain from my heart and to hold my own pain that emerged within this interaction so I can heal. In my healing, others heal and so the gift goes on.