To everything turn, turn, turn…

For a few years, while I was writing my dissertation, I did a lot of weddings.

That meant I did a lot of pre-marital counseling.

And a lot of marriage counseling after that.

I spent a fair amount of time trying to help starry-eyed brides and grooms grasp the notion that there were more important things to think about than whether the bridesmaids’ shoes matched the punch.

(Go ahead and laugh. This was a while ago and I’m from the South!)

I also spent some time gently suggesting that obsessing over the perfect song for the first dance might possibly need to take a back seat to being able to tell a soon-to-be spouse what you really need and want and love.

I can’t tell you how many women clutched Kleenex and tea cups while they explained that confessing their deepest longings was just too scary.

The logic seemed to run like this…

If I don’t admit what I love, and don’t get it, I’ll be heartbroken. 

If I do admit what I love, and don’t get it, I’ll be heartbroken twice. 

Two things are true about those conversations.

As reluctant as I am to say this, I get it.

And, I never heard a guy claim the same dilemma.

(I won’t presume to guess what that means.)

I wish I’d known more about Rumi in those days!

Then again, “…to everything there is a season,” and I understand turning toward what I love in a different way than I used to.

And, while I’m still sleeping off their visit, my two best teachers are back to their regular worlds.

I, of course, am still finding crayons and pins and a very stylish white denim jacket which needs to be mailed home to its wee owner.

I also have a new context in which to listen and learn.

Or, perhaps, a vivid, fresh reminder of my chosen context.

At the risk of sounding like I’ve come a bit unspooled, my writing and painting and even my plan to actually go get my hair done are all echoes of “turning toward what I deeply love”.

And, in this season, a reminder to claim more of what I love.

I might not get it all but it seems way better than not trying.

Maybe the girls will watch.



Curiouser and Curiouser!

When I was very small… about two or three… I spent a day with my friend, Sue, who was just about my age.

I don’t actually remember that day. At least not consciously.

What I do remember is my mom telling about what Sue’s mom had to say at the end of the day. It went something like this:

Why? When? How? Why? Why? When? Why? Why? Why? 

Apparently, we curious toddlers asked questions until poor Betty thought she’d never make it through one more question.

Curiosity is a marvelous thing. It can also be exhausting!

There’s been lots of curiosity at our house this week with the girls here for Spring Break.

We spent much of our time making first quilts.

If we’d been recording our conversations, you might have heard:

Now? When? Why? When? How? It’s in a knot again! When? Why? 

Etc., etc., etc….

We talked a lot about the notion of muscle memory and why Grammy’s hands knew from ages of practice how to thread the sewing machine and put in pins and all the other challenges for new “drivers” of such miracles.

We started with lines they drew on paper and no thread in the needles so they could get the hang of the foot pedals and the all important “needle up/down” process.

They decided they were ready to start “sewing for real, Grammy!”

First, we needed a plan. Make that two plans.

They made all the design decisions.

We began with the magic cupboard, aka my stash.

The girls picked fabric and decided on one patch squares.

I did the rotary cutting.

Next came arranging. Checkerboard style for Kenzie. A somewhat less predictable pattern for Taylor.

Then, we started actually sewing.

And, predictably, we started un-sewing. (Fortunately I have two seam rippers!)

We learned piecing and basting and a couple of options for quilting. We learned to make binding and attach it. We also learned that Grammy would help with the hand-sewing part!

IMG_2680Yesterday they headed for the airport with finished quilts. And suitcases full of unending curiosity!

It turns out that they’re pretty great role models.

Today, along with some painting buddies, I am pondering curiosity, as well.

What happens when we become curious observers of our lives?

What do we notice? (An old favorite!)

How do we turn stories into symbols?

And, why are we here?


I suspect that one may take a bit longer…

It somehow seems timely, though, in these days of Passover and Easter.

With all the blessings of the season,

Sue and the big dogs…


Sue Boardman, Certified Intentional Creativity®
Color of Woman Teacher & Coach