I have always believed in letting your little light shine.
In my mind, this light it always a gentle glow. It's symetrical and easy and beautiful.
Here is the shape of my life in my heart:
I spend a career acting in Shakespeare on Broadway, meanwhile I become a UN Goodwill Ambassador focusing on education for girls and women and ending childhood hunger. Obviously after that I get elected to the Senate where I make real and sustainable change for the good of people, while donating my pay to charities.
I get that there are several issues with that.
First, Shakespeare on Broadway?!? HA!
Second, Senators making real and sustainable change?!? Ho ho!
Third, and probably least pertinent is my inability to routinely get out of bed before noon.
I have always been someone who won't do something, if I can't do it perfectly.
P.E.R.F.E.C.T.L.Y.
I won't do community theatre. I've never been bowling. I don't draw. You get the picture.
If it's not going to happen with a graceful, beautiful glow, I'm not doing it.
And you can't make me.
However, you may have noticed that some events have come to pass that have taken me from this:
to this:
Which brings us to quilting.
So, here's the story:
The brilliant woman who gives me massages (Laurie Swenson, Soothing Elements, Putnam, CT) has known me for quite some time now. She does the most remarkable energy work, and is most of the reason that I can occasionally walk and talk.
About a month ago, I had gone to a friend's wedding where there were copious amounts of handmade quilts given as wedding presents, and I left with a serious case of quilt envy. Shortly after that, I had my usual appointment with Laurie (who is also a big quilter). We had a conversation that went something like this:
Me: All of her quilts were to-die-for!
Laurie: Well, what have you been doing lately?
Me: I can't tell you.
Laurie: I'm pretty sure that means you should.
Me: It's too embarrassing.
Laurie: I won't judge you.
Me: Okay. I'm doing jigsaw puzzles.
Laurie: That's it?
Me: No, I'm doing jigsaw puzzles on my iPad.
Laurie: (trying to hide her laughter) So that's it?
Me: No, I'm doing jigsaw puzzles on my iPad with all of the pieces already right side up, so I can feel like I'm accomplishing something.
Laurie: (crying, because she's laughing so hard) Oh, that's sad.
Me: Hey!
Laurie: No seriously, even the nursing home ladies would make fun of you!
Me: I know.
Laurie: You should really try quilting instead. It's kind of like jigsaw, but you actually have something useful when you're done, AND people won't make so much fun of you.
Me: How do you know people are making fun of me?
Laurie: What did Sosanna say when you told her?
Me: Point taken. But I can't even draw a straight line with a ruler.
Laurie: iPad puzzles.
Me: Okay. I'll try.
As usual, I dive right in to the quilting experience. And I've made some revelations:
There are more people quilting that you realize.
Most of them want to help you, because they all love quilting.
Laurie was right, you can't stop buying new and adorable fabric.
So, here's the great thing. I only have to stitch straight for maybe 6 inches at a time. Also, I can just stitch 6 inches of something, and still have accomplished something. And my seams definitely don't line up, but I've also discovered that doesn't REALLY matter. Well, unless you ask my mom (you know what I mean, for those of you who know her), but I've decided that I just don't ask her, and even she seems pleasantly surprised by what I have accomplished so far. Also, I'm sticking to kid's quilts, because, let's face it, they're not that critical!
And so it was sitting at my sewing machine last night that I had this realization: Letting your light shine doesn't necessarily mean doing what you're great at, or polishing and perfecting something to offer to the world. Letting your light shine is offering the universe all of yourself -- just do you, as the kids say. And that light can be messy and splotchy and dim and overwhelming and colorful. You are the only person who has your specific light. Don't hide it, because you think it might not be good enough. Make all your seams crooked, and all your hugs big.
And then take a nap.
