Sometimes it is necessary to just be quiet. Still and quiet.
This has been such a year. You haven’t seen a blog posting this year because I have needed to just be still and quiet.
Change is rarely easy. When changes come, we tend to be such masters of calendar and habit that abrupt change is like falling off a cliff. Particularly when change means people leave our lives, whether by choice or because eternity called and they had no option but to answer.
My father used to refer to such occasions as “knocking over the apple cart”. The apples from that cart were never, NOT impacted by the cart’s tipping. Some were unscathed on the surface but bruised deeply inside their peel. Some were obviously bruised but the peel was intact; they were still good for a pie if used immediately, and some who took the spill wore their bruises loud and proud - ruptured skin, mush - apple butter bound because they hurt “ugly”. They had all, after all, just fallen off the “cliff” of the toppled apple cart of change.
A person much wiser than me once stated that after encountering extreme change, one’s survival is dependent on that person’s approach to regathering their spilled apples. That person advised that one’s focus during this time of regathering needed to be prioritized toward your belief system, people, and things in that order. I concur.
After scrutinizing my personal beliefs on life, eternal things, what happens and why???????? I looked around me to see many people whose own apple cart had been tipped by the same incidents - the same points of change. After reestablishing my beliefs, I could then lean on them and shift the focus to others who had similarly fallen off the cliffs. We leaned on each other. We drew strength and support from each other. We loved each other.
What does all of this have to do with textiles and rugs?
Home is where we LIVE. It is where we receive the news that knocks our apple cart into the middle of next week. It is also where we surround ourselves with people in need of caring, supporting and loving them back together. There were nights when sleep evaded me that the carpet under my bare feet was the only comfort. My feet pushed off the looped and cut pile of the New Zealand wool and in wanting to crawl out of my own skin for the pain in people I treasure, I found comfort in its softness and its simplicity. I wrapped one of our quilts around me to chase the chill of the night, rocking my little grandbaby, guilty in the pleasure of the blessing that I was here and he would only know his grandfather now by the stories his dad would tell him when he was older.
Our homes are not superficial showhouses or vaults where finery is displayed. They are where we LIVE and I am so grateful that through the use of sustainable ingredients - plants (cotton and linen) and wool (our sheep need annual haircuts) we have made a company with comfort and livability as a top priority. Our company cares about the environment we are leaving our babies and grandbabies and they are keen on recycling bottles from all over the world to create a fiber with both an environmental impact story as well as a comfort story- a fiber you can put those bare feet on and one that can wrap you up in sweet swaddling comfort.