Life analogies from sewing

I’m spending a lot of today on my sewing machine making and adapting kit for an upcoming event. To distract from my oh so achy back, I amused myself with sewing analogies that can apply to other areas of life too.

  1. Before you start, make sure you have enough thread. If you run out part way through you may not ever finish your project.
  2. Snapped threads happen. Try not to let them discourage you. Thread your needle again and carry on.
  3. Do your research. Time spent planning and figuring out isn’t time wasted. Yes you can jump straight in but you’re unlikely to end up with exactly what you want.
  4. Follow your dreams. Yeah doing your research is great and sometimes diving straight in is more fun!
  5. Invent, adapt and overcome! As nice as it is to end up with there the exact idea we had, adapting and changing as we go along can often lead to something better.
  6. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. There’s oodles of help out there and generally people like to be helpful and useful.
  7. Sometimes your sewing machine will just hate you and you’ll never know what you did wrong.
  8. Going slow is better than unpicking. It can be gruelling but sometimes slow and careful is best.
  9. Sometimes your stitching gets away from you and you just have to cope.
  10. Tidy up your loose ends. It makes a real difference.
  11. Knowing when to stop is a very under appreciated skill….
  12. Measure twice, Cut once. Or your kilt ends up too short.

Easy to forget

It’s easy to forget how powerful the grip of anxiety is.

How despite all the measured deep breathing and rational calm talking, it refuses to lessen it’s grip on both mind and body.

How it feels like a spear through my chest. A physical weight and pressure in the centre of my chest both external and internal, through to my spine. Or maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it feels like a balloon slowly expanding and taking up the space where my heart and lungs should be, making it hard to breathe.

It’s easy to forget how laboured my heartbeat can get at times, feeling like a knackered horse struggling to get up a hill, it’s erratic beats doing nothing to soothe and reassure.

It’s easy to forget that the words in my mind at this time aren’t real. Aren’t based in fact, but are my own fears and insecurities reflected back to me. They swell in my throat making casual socialising almost impossible to navigate.

It’s easy to forget that we can find evidence to anything if we look hard enough. Easier to accept the words spoken so passionately and evocatively. Best protect yourself against what is to come… it’s hard to keep fighting against the words when the physicality accompanying them doesn’t fade…. surely if your rationality and logic was correct you’d feel better by now….? And so it goes on.

Times like this, the dark and scary part of the ride we are all on, just hold on, remember to breathe and wait. Just breathe, that’s all that’s required today. It doesn’t last forever.

But it’s easy to forget.

Ship to Shore

A recent chat with a friend got me thinking in metaphorical terms about where I am in my life at the moment. There’s a limited amount I can say about my current situation as it doesn’t just involve me so forgive me if I seem particularly vague in details.

I’ve always used images and metaphors to describe emotional and pyschological states, it’s just easier. The image that came to mind currently (probably partly due to the set of Robin Hobb books I’m currently storming my way through) was that of being on board a ship.

So here I am on board this metaphorical ship. Between lands. I’ve put myself aboard this ship, I’ve set it’s course, and I’m partially in charge.

There have been other times of limbo and change where I haven’t felt in charge at all, where the metaphor that came to mind was an extended periods of falling, occasional pauses on juts of rock before having to fall again and just waiting to land and preparing myself to deal with wherever I found myself.

This isn’t like that. It’s more controlled and I can see land ahead of me. New land that I am both excited and terrified to explore.

Yet I’m not completely in control. I may set the destination but there are currents that can sweep me off course or delay me. There are events on the land behind me that affect the course of the planks I sail upon. No one controls the winds or the tides.

So I stand on my metaphorical ship, looking at the metaphorical shore that lies ahead of me, thinking I know what awaits me, what I can build there, while deep down admitting I haven’t a clue, not really.

The metaphor has some roots in reality. I’m moving to another city as I can’t afford to keep living in the one I’m in. Not without living in a shoebox or sharing with strangers, neither of which I’m prepared to do; I’m too old and too antisocial for that. The nearest city that starts to come close to my solo budget is a good hour away from where I currently am. It’s a big change, and all the preparation and organisation in the world can’t really ready me to start a new life alone in a place I barely know. As a perfectly happy introvert, the work of creating a new community and social circle is one of the most terrifying things I can imagine. Yet that lies before me also.

There are things I can do. I guess a metaphorical equivalent of preparing fishing lines best I can and hoping the fish are curious! Then it comes down to standing on deck, hoping for a kind wind and friendly people where I dock.

But for now I stand on board, hand on tiller, waiting and at the mercy of some currents that could yet see me drifting off course.