From where I sit, walking the treadles, threads reach out in front of me…a long narrow path, open to possibility, unknown, undiscovered.
Rolled up underneath this path is what I wove yesterday. I can’t see it. I try to remember the colors and textures of days gone by. Some I remember vividly, others blur and fade. I wish I could go back and see if it all works together, what I was weaving with then, whether I am weaving today what will complement yesterday.
The open warp threads have always been exciting to me…like blank sketchbook pages, the open sea, a wide expanse of meadow. I have yet to walk into them, sail into their uncharted waters, make colorful marks on the white pages.
As I peer through the heddles I wonder what these threads might bring. Difficulty, pain and loss are surely bound up in what’s to come, just as it has before. I can’t stay there long, peering beyond the reed…I must return to what’s right here, in front of me, today and its open threads.
It is here, in these moments of weaving color and wool, ribbon and locks, that the path ahead and behind me falls away and I can sink into what is happening here between the warped threads. I reach for what I’m given, work with what I’ve spun, passing a shuttle full of joy through the open threads, as if I’m feeding a mouth hungry for beauty and truth.
I know that one day the cloth will be unwound and I’ll get to see its entirety. I have a feeling that I won’t see it as something entirely woven by myself. I imagine that as I’m shown the cloth of my life, I will see it as woven by another’s Hand, a path that I surely walked, but which has been transformed into something far more than what I could ever have woven. The dark, tear-stained colors will serve to enrich and enliven the joy-filled filaments of light. Woven throughout, I’ll see the Golden thread given to me to follow to the end of the cloth.
I like to think that it is this very cloth which will become an imperishable robe of sparkling threads. My reverie of future transformation must somehow be brought into walking the treadles of today. So I lean into the warped loom, pick up a bobbin full of color and pass the shuttle through.
***** Do you have ways that you bring the hope of future transformation into your daily life? I’d love to hear about it if you wish to share! ❤️