Because guess what, all sewing is is putting two pieces of cloth together with a bit of string.
I’ve been sewing since I was a tiny girl. My mom helped me cut out squares and I would slowly stitch together a Barbie sleeping bag.
And I was so proud of my Barbie sleeping bag.
Then I put some more squares together, and I made a teddy bear blanket.
Then I put some more squares together and I made a blanket for myself!
I learned how to make something beautiful that would nurture people by slowly stitching together small pieces of material, with a little bit of string.
When I think about sewing now, it becomes more involved, I get stressed if I didn’t measure correctly, I worry about how much time I’m able to devote to the process, and, oh God, what if my toddler finds all the pins and scissors?!
So I don’t sew very often.
What I enjoy about sewing now, is something a bit silly.
I love the fabric.
Have you ever found yourself chatting with a shop owner in your favorite part of town on a sunny day and fall in love with something?
Did you ever get happy just walking into a place because the woman behind the counter lights up when she sees you come through the door?
I have. I hope everyone gets the chance to feel that.
Right now, I’m just a mom, trying to remember who I was when I had time to sew.
Even through I don’t have the time to devote to all of the sewing projects that used to fill my (now non-existent) Etsy shop, I do have time to visit my local fabric store, see the patterns, new designs, and colors of the beautiful fabrics, and bring a bit of that happiness home with me.
I love my scraps of fabric. I love knowing I have the ability and the power to make incredibly beautiful pieces of art with my hands and imagination.
And I love knowing that even if I am away from my local shop owner for a while, she will still light up when I walk in the door, because she understands this kind of beauty.
She understands that the fabric of life is everyday moments and the thread is warm smiles, a touch of comfort, and an exchange of feeling.
So I feel my fabric between my fingers, and I feel the fabric of my life, and I make stitches.
One after another after another.
Authored by A Swift Doula