I have
many memories of my grandmother crocheting
doilies and table cloths with fine cotton threads.
She taught me, but mine never came out like hers.
I have many of the ones she made.
This one I have on my little meditation table.
doilies and table cloths with fine cotton threads.
She taught me, but mine never came out like hers.
I have many of the ones she made.
This one I have on my little meditation table.
As I was lighting the candle and striking the bowl the other day, I noticed it underneath, although it has been there all along, and saw how it was really like a mandala – made of interwoven threads. I remembered the movement of my grandmother’s small, gentle hands and how the crochet hook would dip and pull each loop of thread through so quickly and easily. I remembered the soft, contented look on her face as she crocheted, following an unending rhythm. It was easy to be in her presence – connecting in the silence of our hearts. The crocheted “mandala” also reminded me of how intricately woven her wheel of life was, of which I was only a thread. Her wrinkle in time lasted 93 years.
We wrote
letters back and forth to each other when I was a teenager and young adult,
when she moved to Maine and then Southern California ; sharing a special bond. Her ripple in time was absorbed back into the
Ocean of Being
~*~
“The Silence which is not the
silence of the ending…
is only a beginning.
It is like going through a small hole
to an enormous,
wide expansive ocean,
to an immeasurable, timeless state…”
is only a beginning.
It is like going through a small hole
to an enormous,
wide expansive ocean,
to an immeasurable, timeless state…”
“Death is only for the imagined
separate self.
…..for who you truly are there is no death.”
…..for who you truly are there is no death.”
Jeff Foster
Read the whole article:
“Why there is no death”
“Why there is no death”
~*~
Top Photo - Color Invert
Gives the affect of theOcean
behind the doilie,
which is actually the
grain of the wood…
Gives the affect of the
behind the doilie,
which is actually the
grain of the wood…
Your words are soothing like the silent presence of a beautiful hand absorbed in the delicate work of care.
ReplyDeleteHave a lovely weekend, I'm off to be with my little fox-cub Connie! x
And thank you for your lovely words as well! I love the imagery - of course :) And now you have a fox cub! Hope you post about it...
DeleteMandalas can come in so many dazzling forms--crochet too. This was sooo lovely story, Christine. So glad you shared this, and your grandmother with us. Your altar table is beautifully arranged. :o) Happy Day ((HUGS))
ReplyDeleteThanks Tracy :) Yes, am recognizing mandalas everywhere! lol Hugs to you too. :)
DeleteThis touches me on so many levels. . . as my own grandmother was so important to me, too, and she also crocheted---and relaxed to its stitching. Isn't it amazing how we can suddenly SEE something anew that has been there all along (i.e., it "dawns" on us), like the ubiquitous doilies that I also love. Thank you; I will be reading the piece on death that you reference, too.
ReplyDeleteYes, the doilie triggered some wonderful memories! I miss her presence in my life. How interesting that we both have the comforting memory of our grandmother's crocheting. In a sense I think it could have been a form of meditation for them.
DeleteI agree, Christine, and have a dear friend who says her crocheting is just that.
Deletelovely thoughts about your grandmother. love the idea of the doily as mandala. sounds like you had a wonderful relationship with her. you were lucky.
ReplyDeleteYes, I was very fortunate to have the relationship I had with her. We were very close. Unfortunately she moved away when I was 14, but we were able to maintain a close bond.
DeleteOh, that's brilliant and beautiful and touching, what you wrote about your connection with your grandmother. I will never look at doilies the same now. (As for crocheting, I admire the delicate handiwork of it as whenever I have tried it myself it only made me very crochety!)
ReplyDeleteThanks Lynne :) It was guite a discovery to see the "mandala" aspect of it. I used to crochet afghans with yarn - much easier than the thin cotton threads. I would get crochety too! lol
DeleteBeautiful how the threads connect. Your memories of your grandmother triggered memories of my mother knitting. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteYes, connections in so many ways... Am glad it brought good memories :)
DeleteYour thoughts that lead on into beauty are wonderful. I have a friend who recently lost his father, and this is quite comforting.
ReplyDeleteI remember women in Istanbul crocheting; they made lots of doilies. I miss working with my hands (knitting, quilting).
Thank you Ruth... Am glad you found it comforting. It was a comforting moment for me too. When I used to crochet I found it very therapeutic. It was so rhythmic.
DeleteSuch a moving reflection, Christine - and what beautiful handwork of your Grandmother's. My maternal grandmother sewed...an aunt (one of her daughter's crocheted) and I always wanted to learn to do both, but alas my attempts led me to believe I had no creative gifts. As an adult now, I am amazed at how many of her grandchildren have become artists of one sort or another.
ReplyDeleteThanks Stacy. You most definitely have wonderful creative gifts! :)
Delete