I inhale deeply. My palms press gently together in prayer. I firm the soles of my feet into the grass and reconnect to the earth, feeling the morning dew swallow my toes. The cool air kisses my cheeks, the sunlight warms the back of my neck and a smile sneaks across my lips.
I flow through my salutations, breathing slowly, turning inwards and finding my rhythm.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale…
Yes, here it is…
Stillness, beautiful stillness.
It begins to settle over me, washing waves of familiarity that calm my body and mind. I remain focused, connected to the breath and ready to explore.
In the beginning moments of stillness, I’m often reminded of the beautiful patchwork quilt that sits at the end of my bed, handmade with love from my grandmother.
A family heirloom, crafted over a year and gifted to me as I turned 18.
Its musky scent reminds me of the country and my grandmother’s home. Images flood through my mind. Granny sitting on the tattered brown couch, the radio switched on and Plonky the cat snuggled at her feet. She’s surrounded by flowery patterns and pretty materials, roughly cutting hexagonal shapes with blunt scissors.
My granny shares her life within the flowery folds of the quilt. Her wisdom whispered into the faded framework and her stories sealed with white thread. Stories just waiting to be revealed, to be heard. And what I am discovering, is that to understand my granny’s stitching and learn her insights, an exchange must occur; that being my stillness.
I find that stillness and the threads begin to loosen, inviting me in and sharing stories of the past, learning new ways to be. I ponder for awhile, resting in stillness. I discover wisdom, awareness and profound encouragement to stay in the now; to create my own memories and write my own stories. This knowledge I let swallow me, bringing warmth like my quilt on a winter night.
Like life’s beautiful tapestry, my quilt and I have shared many experiences. We’ve created silence spaces in meditation, unravelling the mind, allowing consciousness to creep in. We’ve felt the flow of yoga together, the souls of my feet pressed firmly into the quilt’s safe folds. We’ve explored expansiveness in Pranayama and calmness of the body and breath.
=Q=
We’ve shared many memories with family and friends: in the summertime, we’ve held picnics on the quilt’s floral tapestry, left food crumbs between each stitch and drink stains to soak in. Lazing on our bellies and staring up at the sunshine, we’ve laughed about the small things and tried to figure out this beautiful world.
During art and craft nights, messy splashes of purple and orange were painted into it’s skin. Soil stains from my latest gardening venture have embedded into it’s folds, leaving my new succulents smiling in the wind. And in winter my quilt has read novels, holding hands under the covers with the boy of my dreams. We’ve lazed together in front of the fire place sharing conversations that warm our hearts and expand our minds. All of these beautiful moments have happened on my quilt’s embroidery.
My quilt is so cleverly crafted with knowledge and so beautifully woven with love. It’s my cover of consciousness, my sheet of stillness and a way for me to understand the world.
Some threads hang freely, unstitched and wild, yet it is these loose ends I find comfort in the most.
That’s life. Unpredictable, transient, always changing, impermanent. Stitched one way, relaxed the other. Concealed and mysterious, but eventually revealed.
My quilt has taught me so much about life. We all crave the loose ends but then hesitate to cut ties. But when we do find the strength needed to pull hard on our knots, we change the course of our lives. We unravel to expansiveness and become more open and free.
It is here in these moments that we learn to trust and know instinctively and intuitively we’re on the right path.
As I move into my final posture of Savasana, a sense of peacefulness and introspection settles over me. I inhale, soften deeper and absorb the subtle qualities my quilt has shared.
Its symmetrical loops have stitched softness into my mind, providing me with compassion and warmth. Profound knowledge has been shared, yet in a tangible form so that I too can pass it down. And calmness has been sewn across my body, making space for consciousness to expand, stillness to emerge, silence to be heard and love to be felt.
This is the true gift.
My yoga and meditation practice is similar to the gifting of my grandmother’s quilt. The two are so intrinsically linked. They both share ageless, invaluable knowledge about the true nature of life. They both provide the encouragement and guidance needed to expand my own mind. They both have the ability to evolve, heal, recreate, redefine and withstand time. They both provide infinite love, comfort and warmth.
My beautiful quilt.
My beautiful granny.
All the stitches in the world will never thank her enough.
