A Stitch and Time

Sewing, I've discovered, is not only a favorite pastime but my metaphor for living. I begin with a full length of fabric, cut out multiple pieces, then sew them together to match the picture on the pattern cover. Easy? Nope. The fabric has right sides and wrong sides. The pattern's arrows and dots need to be matched up accurately. I achieve the best product results when I use the correct thread; cotton or polyester for strength and hold; rayon topstitching for beauty and stitch intensity; silk for fine weave fabrics. And I need the appropriate needle. Rounded point, stretch needle, sharp, topstitch, embroidery, leather, denim, twin or wing.

My life follows those principles. I begin with all possibilities spread before me, choose the ones I want to fit together, and then imagine what picture will result. Easy? Nope. The possibilities have positive results or negative results. My timing doesn’t always match up or I miss the arrows leading to match points. Now for holding the possibilities together. Is it my intention to plan for long-term durability? Do I select based on image or public approval or self satisfaction? As I move forward with my plan I need to wisely decide when to use gentleness and when to be direct but possibly unpopular. It’s important to consider whether I’m dealing with folks who are tough as leather, woven tight as denim or perhaps fragile as tulle or voile. What kind of tracks do I intend to leave for the future? Do I require the backup of a solid twin plan or the distinctly fragile but beautiful proven affect of the heirloom wing needle design?

And then there’s backstitching. In order for my plans not to unravel I back up once in awhile tracing my steps to be sure I’m still on my chosen path. Is it possible for my journey to move forward by sheer determination? Or will I require some underlying support (in sewing--the bobbin and stabilizer) from my interior strengths and/or external advisors on the journey?

In any given circumstance, should I choose the path of clear contrast--black and white rigid rules for instance, or a blend of multicolor threads/diversified sources? And when my process comes to completion, will it still resemble the images I began with or will it have morphed into whatever influences time stitched into its journey?

Multiple outcomes present themselves in the questions. A stitch and time reveals the end product.