First there was this–moon sketching. Two eyes, wide open, witnessing acceleration. Expansion.
… a visual portal for seeing what now seems very obvious. Upon reflection and a week of sitting and holding the feeling that some thing was not quite right. We were missing some thing–Crone and I. And yesterday, in a moment of silence, we heard as if with one ear, this: “Transcending difficult situations is only one part of what you will do. But ‘transcending’ does NOT mean cutting yourself off from your ground, from your roots, from your past. You may try to do that but it’s impossible, for one thing, and it’s counter productive for another.”
What? What? We sat together with this, Crone and I. She was the first to nod. Yes. So clear now. what were we thinking when we slashed off the bottom part of the cloth?
Simply a knee jerk reaction that provided a much-needed sense of space. A Gap.
True. The foundation of her life WAS complex. It was. And there were parts that felt scary and confusing. But they were hers and by accepting them back, she reclaimed some thing.
So. A bit of space was added. A blue strip provided perspective–space–and the cloth grew a bit and was whole again. And funny now how the red puppy, fangs and all, seems so benign. To think that a week ago it was all so overwhelming. But the red thread–the life force–remains entact. And Crone marvels at its ability to stretch and accommodate her need to fly.
And because they are also part of this story, part of the nudge that opened our ears, I want to thank Mo, Dee and Julie for showing interest in red puppy. And I want to thank Grace, who said some time ago, “Just stand and face.” And of course, thank you, my Crone, for listening.
following thread 
waking up and here i am with a smile of recognition…because while she was ever so lovely she now feels whole, encompassed, encompassing…and because red dog is so much a part of the whole…the red puppy fangs vivid and part of making the crone complete, vivid…good morning to you cynthia
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oh cynthia. i can’t tell you how much i love your comments. i read “smile of recognition” and realize i feel that way too. when i hear from you. thank you my friend.
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and the leash shrunk too, look back and see! Just a light tether, not an anchor.
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wow julie. what an observation. you are SO right. the sense of weight–the anchor–has changed as well. thank you thank you thank you. your eyes have helped me see deeper into this. love love
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Hi Patricia! cutting off the bottom, going through a period of purification and/or isolation – maybe even denial? – sounds like part of the path to claiming one’s ground, in its entirety!
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Dee–yes–reclaiming my ground. the parts of myself. purification? yes. isolation/denial? perhaps out of blindness but not from intent. i’m asking the universe to bring it on. i want to know–to see–and thank you for your input. thank you soooooooooooooooooo much
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Love the Crone.
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ah, yes. the crone. she’s starting to relish this–her crone-ness. thank you for supporting her
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As above, so below. A much bigger story evolves. The fangs feel like a protective thing to me.
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oh yes. i’m blown away here by the comments that are taking me even deeper into this. as above, so below. the mirror. yes yes. this is the crone’s story. it is my story. but it is more than that isn’t it. it’s our story. and the fangs–i see what you’re saying. why not protection? afterall, knowledge IS strength and
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So in my mind , this is death and passing to the next level . Just as when Jude’s mother died.
The story of the Crone and I is so deep . It feels instilled into my head-work. Thank you for writing it and creating cloth that is sewn with emotion. I can feel each stitich.
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hi Joan. i’m happy to see you here. your name. i love your name. Joan Coats. a name that implies many things. i’m seeing cloths here. you passing out coats for comfort from the cold. you applying a coating of balm–a soothing salve. your comments feel like that for me. a comfort. thank you.
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Time … The great healer. Gives Perspective that doesn’t come any other way. And the space to listen to the crone who is invaluable!
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time. yes. and 17 years is –in the big scheme of things– no thing. and the sense to hurry, to get it right–this time–that too has fallen away. in this one moment, right here, right now, this is where the eternal vastness lies for me. your being here means so much to me. thank you
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I’m so glad you’ve shared this circle story. I love the space between.
Between the past and the now, maybe? I’m also glad to see red dog back. It seems he needs to be there, yes?
Take care.
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that space. that blue space. essential gap where a load of processing can happen. and yes, red pup–big part of the story. maybe we’ll see him again. and aren’t we all part of this circle story? you being here, now, commenting, stepping up for add insight and awareness. welcome my friend.
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I love your crone, with her owl-wisdom face, wide eyed with the wonder of continuing…and the moon….oh…you have an umbilical cord connection with the moon….you have put in story cloth exactly how I feel about her……there she is….oh oh oh….as I type this I can see a story cloth image in my head…the moon at my navel….thank you so much for the inspiration. Happy Sunday to you.
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hi Helen. i’m thrilled to have you commenting here. i remember well a cloth of yours–was it for Tilly? if my memory hold. and a moon for a navel. what a surprise that would be. much love to you
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sometimes put a bit of distance between things makes it easier to see the connection
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yes. that gap. for me it’s essential. or else i have my nose up my backside.
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and the “tether” to red dog…is that too an umbilical of sorts?, that comes from WHAT is IT
the form, that is at her hem? a placenta of sorts???? and now. i am totally fascinated
with red dog. with their relationship….an odd paring?, or, OR, do all old women have their
own red dog. ???
this is a truly Fine and Great Work of Cloth
love
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yes, yes, yes. a placenta. now i know what that is. and yes, i believe all women have their own red dog. notice i left off “old.” needing to reset my mind around that one, according to daughter. love to you
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dog, umbilical chord, there has to be a relationship, ‘cos I’m looking up and notice my squatting EarthMother and dog and red drops of blood….
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magic
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cloth is magic. much love to you
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Tethers; the red dog to the Old Crone – the leash of instinctual survival. The Old Crone to the moon -, the leash of possibilities. Both the same connective thread because when we can stand firm, we have the strength to face what comes next….
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oooooh. instinctual survival. love it. resonate with that. survival. and leash of possibilities–potential. i’m remembering that a zipline was the original idea here. back and forth. all of these metaphors are exciting my neurons!
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….and also I’m thinking this Red Dog even if he does scare you at first, in the long run it never works trying to get away from what frightens you, at some point – and you got there didn’t you – you have to take a stand and say: I’m done running, I’m not going to budge, I’m gonna take you on and give it my best and we’ll see what happens. So you did, xx
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