The fibers of my life


I have shared in earlier posts about how much joy my 6 year old niece brings into my life.  This is also true of my nephews… though they are now adults, have their own busy lives and Auntie isn’t as important as she used to be… and that is okay.  Sometimes I do get the pleasure of spending time with them, and I look forward to every minute with them.  I have been thinking about my life in terms of experience, growth, changes.    There are moments or periods in my life where the texture of the experience was abrasive, difficult to rest on.  Other times I would classify textures as soft, rich, delicate and inviting.   These are the fibers of my life.   These are the very defining moments that have made me who I am today.  And I LIKE who I am today.

All of these “fibers” or fabrics are mere pieces or portions of my life.  No single fiber defines me, but all have  played an important part in shaping me.   I can only be defined as a  conglomeration of all my experiences.   Humans will and have judged one another on single experiences, but a higher level of consciousness would look at me in my entirety.   In times of difficulty, I have questioned the purpose of such.  In better times I basked in the moment, savoring each breath, each step.  I have found my life to be continually revolving.  I am guided off course to unfamiliar territory, yet it always comes back around to the one constant in all of these experiences….me.  How do I handle things?  How do I feel about these experiences?  What did I learn from them?  What do I choose to carry forward with?  The lessons ?  The moments?  The joy?  The pain?   What is most  beneficial for me to retain?  Let go of?  Certainly there have been times in my life that I would gladly forget, and there are things I have forgotten, but I believe that there is positive in everything if we are openminded and willing to look at it.  To not only feel the varied textures of our experiences, the light and darks, but to piece them all together defining or telling the story of MY life.

There comes a point in our lives where we take responsibility for our actions, feelings, decisions, etc.  There comes a point when we realize that there are loved ones who may and have in past played an important role in our lives, decisions, etc., but at some point we have to stand on our own, one with ourselves.   Standing not in anothers shadow, but in our own truth.  And over time we will probably learn that our truths of yesterday are quite different than that of today… for this is growth, knowledge…the connecting of all our fibers and experiences.  For me, that makes up one crazy quilt!

My heart has been a barometer for the warmth or coolness of my experiences.  Together with my thoughts I can choose some of the fibers, the colors, the hues… but other times I am not given a choice.  The only control or power that I  have is how I handle the situation.   This is where I accept the will of my higher power (faith) and resign my own.  I can either accept the truths or realities that are placed in front of me, or I can live my life in discord with my heart and head at war.  Surely there will be battles that I choose to participate in, but I want to believe that everything happens for a reason.  At the very minimum we can choose to look at the positives or dwell in the negatives.  There are no right or wrongs, only choices.

Today I am choosing brighter softer fibers for myself.   I work hard to accept the woolens of my life but I have to believe that in the end my life in its entirety will make up a beautifully painted portrait of a woman who did her best, who always tried to better herself, to gain knowledge and become the best person she could be…    That there will be a nice balance of MANY textures, colors and shapes, and most important for me, is that the thread that ties it all together is bound with the strength and beauty that comes from a place of love.


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