The Body Knows
Spirals, Cycles, Gradients, and Whispers… who knew so much meaning was found in making a quilt
I went on a retreat for Meaning Making in Motherhood1 back in October. This retreat called to me. It seemed like a marrying of all of my favorite things: creativity, exploration of motherhood, spirituality, and sacred and safe space led by a therapist. As I have explored and been walking through my own season of matrescence after my third baby, I knew I needed this retreat. I kept hearing this whisper from the deepest parts of myself: “Pay attention. Find yourself again. Find Me again.”
I’ve been on a few quilting and sewing retreats, but something that I loved about this one was that we all spent the retreat making the same quilt. The Clava Quilt features curved seams and a gradient of fabrics resembling the phases of the moon.
I picked my fabrics:
Green with a little stenciled motif that reminded me of boobs and bellies; a testament to the hours upon hours I have spent nursing my three babies (still accumulating.)
Suns: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” the lullaby that my mom sang over me that still echos heartbreakingly as we make our way through a complex relationship ripe with wounding from all sides. “Please don’t take my sunshine away.” The pressure I hold with these lyrics is akin to the pressure I feel for doing everything right, being responsible, and taking responsibility for all peace, harmony, and relationship… I’m working to only own what is mine now.
Orange with little pink dots: I’m doing the damn thing differently. My motherhood and my kids’ lives are remarkably different than my childhood. I am teaching them that they can be different, do things differently, not look the same as everyone else. They need to listen only to themselves and learn to listen to God in them for their uniquely paved road ahead.
Blank white space.. the smallest moon- for my ever-expanding experience to learn to live with margin and more empty space in my schedule and in my life.
All of my fabrics worked together in what I call a sorta gradient- which seems fitting… Does life really ever gently and smoothly melt from one phase to another? My life is more a series of starts and stops, jumps ahead and falls backwards. Many ruptures and repairs as I learn to do it differently. It’s not smooth, but the gradient/process is sorta there.
Gold, greens, rust, navy… they are colors that have resonated for me. There’s an earthyness I feel drawn to, and I wanted to let play out in a quilt. I love how the fabrics looked in my newly updated living room at the start.
A day into the retreat, one of the retreat leaders came collecting scraps for an experiential activity we would do later in the retreat. I found myself clinging on to my scraps. “These mean so much! I need to squeeze every bit of meaning and making I can out of these in my own quilt! I was going to make a pieced back!” Yet I also found myself leaning in. I had learned to trust this leader, her ability to provide solid teaching, co-create safe spaces, and provide deep felt safety communicated to me that I could trust her with things that felt important to me. However, I also knew I didn’t want to blindly trust. I needed to have a part. Instead of simply passing my scraps to her, I joined her and some other retreat participants on the floor where we cut and knotted our scraps together. Beginning to make something in total more eclectic and fun than all the individual parts were in their own quilts. All of our scraps knotted together to form a long strand of fabric.
I walked outside the next morning and saw our long strand of fabric laid out into a spiral. The air was cool and sun was warm on my skin: my favorite weather. The small group of us gathered on the field next to the spiral, and we were invited into an experiential activity of walking the spiral. We were given paper to jot down our experienced myths in motherhood, grievances, and questions we have. We held these as we moved into the center of the spiral where we could place our papers into a bowl, a symbol of our individual releasing. We then were invited to move out of the spiral mindful of receiving- what is it that I am leaving this experience, this retreat, this weekend wanting to remember?
For most of my life, I could be relied on as a rule-follower and people-pleaser. Provide me a role to play, a performance to give, a task to complete, and I will do the thing and do it well. This came to a head in my late twenties and young thirties when I had two toddlers, a thriving counseling practice/business, over-served at church, and maintained relationship with each member of my fractured family. Mind you, most of those family members were unable to maintain relationship with one another, but I was expected to maintain them all. I earned an A+ at wearing masks and showing up how I was needed.
At church one Sunday, a man came up and introduced himself to me when we were at an event. He and I overlapped with people we knew and the places we served in within the church, but we hadn’t yet actually met one another. As we chatted and mentioned our overlapping friends he said to me, “Now I realize who you are! I have to say, every time you come up in conversation, no matter who I am talking to, the other person only has kind things to say. It is nice to actually meet you and talk with you.”
What I understood but he didn’t say was, “It is pretty remarkable given the fractures in this community… This church (like all churches) has some opinionated people and many disagreements- It is great how you toe the line of showing up likable with all these different factions of people.”
What I honestly in that moment thought, yeah… that’s because I am a moderately unhealthy enneagram 3. I know how to show up, put on a mask, and do what other people want me to do. *Self-awareness gold star.*
I was giving, giving, and giving until there was nothing left to give. I was a professional at bypassing myself and my needs and instead showing up to serve, unfortunately often inauthentically. It was serving and performing out of obligation and have-to’s not out of Love and overflow. It was the road to burnout and a challenging of my faith so intense that it took me years to recover. I am still recovering.
As I looked at the spiral, I fought my own participation. It was beautiful. The activity reminded me of a labyrinth. I deeply craved spiritual connection, ritual, and ceremony; losses I’ve experienced from no longer feeling at home in many church communities.2 The women walking into the spiral were so genuine: mourning, grieving, and letting go. They were somber and sacredly offering hugs and support for one another as they walked. This was a beautiful and sacred ceremony, and I was thankful to witness and have this experience again.
Oddly though, as I thought of walking the spiral, my skin crawled and my heart beat loudly within my ribcage.
“It isn’t time yet,” my body said. “This is too much. How do we know we can trust this?”
I now know to listen to my body. I know to choose agency, belonging to self, and listening to Holy Spirit/God/Light/Love in me. I know how to access and connect to my true self. I know to not let the pounding in my heart be mistaken for “calling.” Calling and direction actually are found in the peaceful places; they are found in the still, small voice.
The tension in my body and my racing heart were indications that I needed to move. I needed to get in my body and help it regulate. I connected with God in the ways I know how right now: breath, prayer, and movement. I needed to quiet myself to hear the still, small voice of God. I flowed through Sun Salutations and the Lord’s Prayer; reclaiming them both as an offering from my self and my body to my Creator.
Inhale… Upward Solute… “My Father who art in Heaven”
Exhale… forward fold… “Hallowed be thy name”
Inhale… halfway lift… “your kingdom come”
Exhale… forward fold… “your will be done”
Inhale… plant hands, step back to plank, my eyes on the grassy ground “On Earth”
Exhale… lower down… “as it is in Heaven”
Inhale… lift to cobra… “Give us this day our daily bread”
Exhale… lower down… “and lead us not into temptation”
Inhale… tuck and roll over toes, lift hips, downward dog… “and deliver us from evil”
Exhale… step forward, forward fold… “for thine is the kingdom”
Inhale… root to rise, upward solute “The power and the glory”
Exhale… hands to heart-center “forever and ever. Amen.”
The pairing of my breath and body movements with this long memorized prayer reclaimed and held firm as a foundation of my faith… I found myself in my body, in my faith, and deeply connected to my true self- I had access to curiosity, compassion, calm, clarity, courage, confidence, creativity, and connectedness.3 As I did, I was able to ask: “what am I letting go of this weekend? What questions am I holding?”
The deepest parts of myself answered:
I am releasing over-functioning and over-responsibility.
The questions I am holding: What do I do if I’m not taking care of everyone and everything?
I finally found myself ready to move into the center of the spiral. While I loved the image and symbolism of the women before me sacredly walking into the center, offering hugs and support for one another as they crossed paths, I knew my experience and needs were different. I couldn’t take on any responsibility for anyone else’s emotions or presence in that moment. I needed to dance, to play, to sway and step in a more free and fun manner. This releasing of felt over-responsibility was to be celebrated and playfully released. Being the oldest, mask-wearing daughter was no longer my role. I was going last and doing it playfully and proudly. Screw always being the first one to set the example and “do it right.”
As I stepped into the center, I found myself moving again through a Sun Salutation, but this time I found myself dropping into malasana, a yogi squat, also a birthing position and posture I took through the preparation of birth for my three children. A vulnerable and open posture, one that my body knows well, one that is a sure posture for releasing. Arms opened wide, a soft smile on my face as I felt the warmth of the sun seeping into my skin, I released the performance, responsibilities, and “doing it right.” I let myself and my body do what they needed to find safety and healing. I dropped my papers in the bowl, found a forward fold, and released it all through a shaking and swaying of my arms. I ended moving into tadasana/mountain posture, embodying my felt rootedness and strength. It was a birth of a newer, stronger, and more authentic me.
I danced and wobbled my way out of the circle.
The wind was picking up and the spiral was folding in on itself with the gusts of the cool air. The other women who had gone before me were quick to hold the spiral, allowing me to keep placing one foot in front of the other, taking one step at a time into whatever is next for me.
There are other mothers who have gone before, other women ready to stretch out an arm to help me remember and see where I am going. There is a path before me.
I left the spiral, and we went on as a group to burn our paper scraps, the things we released in the center of the spiral. We lingered together as a group, chatting and sharing some about the mutual experience we all shared. There were many smaller conversations occurring, and someone I hadn’t spoke to much at the retreat came up to me, “It was so brave of you to be the last one” she whispered into my ear as she hugged me. Tears filled my eyes. It was a prophesy and witnessing of what happened in the spiral and also in my family lineage. Broken are the generational and addictive cycles that once held me hostage. It is brave to be the last one.
A poem by Rupi Kaur was moving its way through my head and heart all weekend.
I already have everything I need within myself. God/Love dwells within me. I can hear and follow that internal knowing when I pause to listen to my body’s wisdom, when I remember scripture long memorized and deeply known in my soul, and when I flow and pray in the rhythm of my breath.
I’m learning, too that the path ahead continues to be revealed and held by the women who have gone before me. If I keep taking one step at a time, sometimes dancing, sometimes flowing, often wobbling, others will help me to keep walking.
It is both. I can trust myself. There are others who can be relied on too.
To end our time with the spiral, we were each invited to take a section of the spiral and write any words, understandings, or questions that we were walking out of the the ceremony and retreat holding. I later took my strip and a couple others from the spiral and made a square for part of a pieced back for my quilt.
I came back home to finish my quilt. I sent the front, batting, and pieced back to my dear friend, Nikki Stadler of Craft House (@crafthouseatl on IG). She’s a genius of her craft and also a mom+entrepreneur. We did many of the newborn and toddler days together with our boys- all 4 close to the same ages. It feels so fitting that she longarm quilted this for me- truly it is a quilt capturing my motherhood in so many ways. The gold thread, the celestial pattern, her hands helping to finish it… icing on the cake.
I attached the binding by machine to start and then finished by hand. I rarely take the time to hand stitch the binding on a quilt, but something about the slowness, hand stitching by lamplight late at night once I got my kids in bed called to me. Another whisper, this time back to deep roots, to simplicity, to the generations of women who came before, sewing things for their family by hand.
As I wrap myself in this quilt, I hope to remember the many lessons it taught and continues to teach me.
Knotted up scraps can be untangled and mended together to make a new something beautiful.
Like the phases of the moon, life and I share times of fullness, waning, waxing and apparent void…. It is cyclical. When it feels like all is dark, wait and watch. Light and newness are coming.
It is okay to follow the pattern and the teaching before me. I don’t need to over complicate or deviate from prescription to make something unique and beautiful. An honest representation of my experience is unique and beautiful every single time.
I can listen to the deep whisper of Love within myself. It can be trusted.
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Whisper."
Want to see the other Clava quilt tops created at this retreat and want a peek into the amazing weekend? Check out this reel on IG by one of our leaders, Hillary McBride. It is incredible to remember how much each of us made that weekend. Give her instagram as well as our fearless sewing leader Calgary Sewing School a follow if you might be interested in other retreats in the future. I sure hope to attend more (clearly, since I just wrote a novel about it.)
I am still figuring out how to articulate this currently fraught relationship between myself and church. It was originally a space and relationship of healing and belonging, but somewhere along the way, we lost our way. You can read a bit more about this in this post if you’re interested.
We have access to these 8 c’s when we are connected to our true self. This is a core teaching of the IFS (Internal Family System) therapeutic framework
This was such a profound reflection on what it means to be true to ourselves and our sacred place in the world. Thank you for sharing your intimate experience of walking the labyrinth. And I am so intrigued by the concept of a quilting/sewing retreat - it (almost) makes me want to learn how to sew in order to attend!
You have once again articulated so well the complexities of being an oldest daughter. I love reading about how you are learning to take off the mask and care for yourself 🫶🏼