Stitching At The Fabric Of Time

Piece by piece, the tapestry is revealed . . .

January 12, 2004

And what will today's excellent venture into Self bring? Shall I discover things previously unseen, such charms to wear on the shoulder of my blouse of pride? I don't know. Seize the moment, that's what I must do. All of life, it is composed of the eternal moment.

I, who embrace myself entirely, what do I see in the mirror? Is this a good mirror, or am I only getting hazy images? Or is it another kind of Vision I need? Throw off the glasses of conformity, and try the ultra vision specs. Such details can only be observed by the willing.

This day, this Monday, second of its kind in this new year, what will it bring? I shall go to work and plod through the day in my ordinary way, but shall any significant thought accompany me? All day long I can stitch at the fabric of time, and if I am but one small stitcher, unaware of all the other stitchers on this grand tapestry, then I am lost. I do not know where I am at.

'Lost in the Self,', no, that is a one way only, no exit trap. That is the baby still in the womb, who has yet to taste the air. There is an exit, but we have to shift around and work for it. Solitary visions of truth will not profit me if I am only talking to myself. Myself I know and love, I, me and myself, we know Ourselves very well. Well maybe I can know myself better.

Now to that Exit, the open air. I emerge, eyes closed but ears wide open. Is the light too bright? Slowly, to adjust to that. Slowly, shading my eyes, I dare a squint. I hear a great Hum. What is it? It is the Ebb and Flow of life. See the marchers pass by, see their brilliant costumes! Did I stitch one of them? Did I make this small patch here, or adjust that sleeve there? All day long, I stitch at the fabric of time. I might have. It is all a secret.

But secrets were made for revealing. In time, the puzzling tapestry forms itself, patch by patch. I am one of the happy stitchers. I shall see you again, next time this round. Look for me, I'll be wearing that charm I've stitched so neatly on my shoulder.

© Joan Ann Lansberry
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