A woman's need

Subculture (definition): an ethnic, regional, economic, or social group exhibiting characteristic patterns of behavior sufficient to distinguish it from others within an embracing culture or society.

I think I've been fairly lonely almost all my life and didn't know why. Which is strange since, not only am I married with four children (two married and starting the grandchildren wonder) I come from a fairly large family (3 brothers, 3 sisters with accompanying spouses and children) and extended family (9 aunt/uncle units with accompanying multitudinous cousins, not to mention the great aunts & uncles, grandparents etc...). We're a large and fairly huggy family as a whole and when there's a big get together there's so much talking and laughter going on that it's almost impossible to hear yourself think. So how is it possible to feel lonely amidst that kind of a crowd?

I've talked with a couple of my sisters about this phenomena and found out that I'm not the only one. (Voila! Not lonely in this feeling.) During these conversations I made a discovery. It's the sharing and understanding and appreciation of a passion.

It's one thing to share a family, a history, a religion. I have all those things in my family and am wealthy beyond measure because of them. It's our common background that bring us together and nurtures love within those bonds. I would be a naked tree on a dry and barren plain without my faith and family. They are the sun and water of my existence. I say that without reservation, and also hint of panic at the thought of losing them. But even within those vital bonds We. Are. So. Very. Different. So where does the loneliness come in?

I suppose it is the need of sharing a creative passion with others who share the same enthusiasm. Mine is the needle arts. I practiced my art, so much of my life, alone. I shared my completed projects with family and friends but all the time I spent stitching was solitary. I may have stitched with others around but they didn't know or didn't care that I literally love doing it. It's a need, not just a want or desire. There were even some who looked at my work and said, "So...what's it really for?", as if it were a complete waste of time and 'why in the heck would someone spend so much time making something that tedious?' I even had a close friend say, "Gah! That looks so BORING. I'd kill myself if I had to do that." 

What I love doing brings on the temptation of suicide in someone else? (tearful sniff) 

I didn't know that there were groups of women out there who did it socially, as a group. I thought that all went away when women joined the work force and were no longer home to chat over the back fence or sit on each others porches mending breeches or sewing quilt squares. 

 And getting together to hand quilt?? The general consensus would be 'WHY?' You can go to Walmart and buy a bedspread for far less than it would take to piece and quilt one, and it would probably definitely be cheaper.

BUT...Five-plus years ago I discovered a delicious, heartwarming and thriving subculture. Quilters. Not old biddies who peep through their spectacles and look at you like they've been sucking lemons for a thousand years. 

 These women are nothing short of amazing. They're talented, savvy, intelligent, generous, amusing, creative...and most of all, they 'get' me. When I say, "I just had to have that piece of fabric, even if it's just a fat quarter and I don't know what I'm going to do with it." I am not met with a blank stare and a change of subject. I hear, "Oooh! Let me see it!" "I love those colors!" "Where did you get it?" "I felt the same way about..." I show them a needle keeper that I spent hours and hours hand stitching and there is not even a whiff of suicide. 

 It's all, "Pass it over here!" "I want to see that!" "Is this a pattern? Can I borrow it?" I am rejuvenated and validated. And I'm just as curious and excited about what they do and what they're ideas are. I'm often intimidated but they are not at all intimidating.

There you go...the bridge. That lovely bridge that brings women together from all walks of life, ethnicities, religions, ages, family backgrounds, even quilting experiences. They're all welcome. And that's just the beginning. Through this love of the needle arts so many other commonalities are found: books, gardening, cooking etc... 

 I've come to know and love these women. I care about their families, their cares and woes, their adventures. When one of the group was going through a nasty divorce I took over some fat quarters. 

What else could I do? And she said, "Wow, thanks. I'm going to make something beautiful out of this." And I don't think she was just talking about the fabric.

Quilting/stitching as a group is a mending thing. It's not just about thread or fabric or quilts. It demands creativity; thinking outside the box. It's inclusive. It's possible to take a bit of something that's not so pretty, not so tidy, not so aesthetically pleasing and add it to something else and make something gloriously beautiful and striking! I've seen it done. It requires patience, dedication, hope and faith. And why wouldn't those virtues learned while graphing, planning and stitching tiptoe into other parts of our lives? It has engendered in me a feeling of community and encourages a knitting together of disparate things, ideas, and people to create something new. I love it. I love them. I'm so grateful for a wonderful group of ladies.

I know that quilters/stitchers aren't the only healing subculture out there. For one of my sisters it's writing and writers, for another it's animals and animal lovers. I've come to see that I need to acknowledge and appreciate their passions and be so grateful that they've found a passion and a group of friends that fills a gap in their souls and makes them whole and beautiful and interesting and vital.

I love this quote and read it often:

"The Balinese have much to teach us about the (non) art of celebration. 

The making of splendid occasions occupies much of their time. 

If you ask a Balinese what he does, he will proudly answer, 

"I am a Baris Dancer" or "I am a Mask Maker". 

If you persist and ask again, 

"No, I mean how do you get your rice?" 

he loses interest, 

his voice drops, 

he may turn away, 

deciding this is a pretty boring conversation. 

"Oh that," he will say. - Cortia Kent

 Our creativity, our passions, are our life's blood. Who could live a happy and fulfilling life without them?