I'm not sure how to describe how I'm feeling today, so I goggled "at sixes and sevens."
To be "at sixes and sevens" is a British English idiom used to describe a state of confusion or disarray. (Wikipedia)Disarrayed works. My small little world feels like a precarious Jenga tower where I need to be careful in choosing the piece I want to remove or the whole thing will come tumbling down.
You see the human heart can’t live with
Constant sound or noise.
It needs silence in order to heal itself.
The only two things that are ultimately required
for spiritual homecoming are stillness and silence
If in your day you can build little windows of silence
and little windows of stillness
You will never lose touch with your deepest voice.
You will never lose touch with your most secret belonging.
Even though you walk and talk in the world
You will never leave the inner, tender home of your soul.
Truth be told, I think I need to spend some time communing with fabric. The last thing I need to do is buy anymore fabric. But a trip to the fabric store might corral my creative juices.
But I digress. I do love books. I also love fabric. I get many of the same feelings inside Joann's Fabric as I do in B&N. There have been times in my life when walking past brightly colored bolts of cotton calico, soft, snuggly flannels, and delicate silks proved as therapeutic as an hour with a psychiatrist. Knowing I have enough of a "stash" I've purposely stayed away from the after Christmas sales. If I went into the bedroom/sewing room and organized the fabric I already own, maybe I'll get the same kind of high as well as that good feeling that comes when you've made a big dent in the chore list.
To come full circle, another reason I'm feeling six-ish and seven-ish is because there's a woman I know only through FB that's really, really, really sick. She had a brain stem stroke. Miracle of miracles she is still alive and will fight with superhuman powers to regain the use of her lifeless limbs. That coupled with reading the book my son-in-law wrote before he passed away, makes me keenly aware of a) how quickly things can change b)how lucky am and c)how helpless I feel in such dire circumstances. It's no wonder I turn to fabric as a restorative elixir. Quilts are not just pieces of cloth sewn together with thread. There's a lot of love and prayer sandwiched between layers of batting. That's where the healing comes from for both the quilter and the person who lies under the magic cloth.