Sometimes life catches you up … or out. I do a lot of other things I don’t mention online that aren’t to do with my textile “life” and as with anything, you go through times outside of your control that feel like you’re slogging against the odds with no end in sight, that every throw of the dice turns out unlucky. I often remind myself that life is not about the hand of cards you’re dealt, it’s how you play them that matters. But rightly or wrongly, lately it felt like I’ve staked everything on chimeras and false hopes and disheartened was beginning to lose sight of things that matter.
Social media has opened many doors for me, both in terms of work as well as leisure and friendships with wonderful people I wouldn’t otherwise have had the good fortune to know. I’ve generally kept things low key in the years I’ve interacted online and escaped the more toxic aspects of it for which I’m grateful. However even in the happy world of textiles I generally inhabit, the political events of this summer meant that an edginess has seeped even into that. I’m not built for conflict and don’t generally engage in things that involve it and yet still was unable to escape the bile rolling up my social media feeds. The pervading air of petulance and anger on all sides indicated just how childish adults can be at times and left me confused, hurt and sick at heart because it doesn’t reflect how the people I know deal with things in the real world.
Social media not only opens doors, sometimes it opens a pandora’s box. Realising this, almost too late, caused much distress in recent weeks – for all its good aspects it’s important to hold onto the fact that neutral things can be used for ill as well as good. After a deal of thinking and with the prospect of family visiting I made the decision to close my online shop for a couple of weeks to give myself a space in which to spend time with loved ones as well as take a look at the creative and admin aspects of the business ready for some new stock and ideas.
Being able to walk away from some online activity and focussing on the humanity of face to face conversations and eye contact with people who’ve known me since I was a child, simple things like laughter, hugs, board games, writing postcards instead of texts, drawing, reading from paper instead of screens … restored some balance. For me I am happiest outside in nature and several days spent in, on or under saltwater washed away some of the tears.
As a childless person I sometimes feel inadequate and clumsy around small people. However I am blessed with a large collection of nephews and nieces as well as my goddaughter and these youngsters I love with as fierce a love as though they were my own. I love watching them grow and develop, learning new things, experiencing life and becoming the next generation to take responsibility. Family is central; nowhere is the sacrificial nature of love demonstrated more strongly than in a family. Genetics do not make you all the same and yet you are bound together by love. Love is sometimes an act of will, choosing to be excellent to those you are responsible towards even when you don’t feel like it. And knowing in return your family will always have your back even when they don’t really understand gives security that you can thrive within that nothing else can.
Patience is a virtue they say. It’s not really one of my virtues and having to slow down to accommodate tiny people, whether the footsteps, understanding or physical skills is also good for my soul. Going out for a morning’s kayaking I was ready long before my family, underestimating the time it takes to get children ready to go out. Sweating in my wetsuit and feeling every so slightly impatient, I picked up my knitting and headed off to sit outdoors and wait productively whilst my lively nephew and niece were wrangled and processed into teeny tiny wetsuits by their parents. I must have looked very odd knitting attired thus but then I’m used to being the oddball. Shortly a shadow appeared at my side and peered curiously at my hands.
Aunty, why are you knitting?
Because I like knitting, darling.
But you like animals!
Yes. I like lots of things, not just animals and knitting.
What things do you like Aunty?
Well, I like reading and cooking and being outside and music and making things. Lots of things.
Do you like people?
Yes I like people.
Do you like friends?
Yes. I love my friends and family.
A short pause whilst my niece processed this as I finished my round and put my knitting away. And then…
Aunty, you like everything!!!
I hid my smile at the simplicity of her four year old’s perspective on life. Kissed her bonny wee head and we went off down to the beach hand in hand to play, kayak, swim and build a series of sandcastles decorated with shells and sea glass along the shore, one for each member of our family.
But maybe she’s right. If you like people and love friends and family maybe you really do “like everything”. Not in the individual micro sense of course, nobody likes every single thing. But in the overall macro sense. Love really does make the world go round; a choice, an act of will, sometimes through gritted teeth and over misunderstanding, pain and differences. With love, those differences then become the things that bind us together, not the things that divide us.