Mandala 2020 - Stage 11

Look at me now, cries the Mandala, as it grows in weight and width. It is hard to keep it quiet, hidden, now that it has heft and commands space.

The pandemic death toll topped 100,000 in the US this week. The number is near to 1,000 deaths each day. That, too, commands space, has heft.

I wondered if  there were 100,000 stitches in this Mandala, so I counted them thus far: 27,318. This doesn't include the several, many, rows I repeated, stitches I pulled out to make again. It does include some padding - those bobbles which are five stitches woven together with a single stitch and counted as one. I want full credit for the bobbles.

One round in this stage nearly drove me to tears. The stitches were not falling into the places I expected; the instructions said the pattern was asymmetrical - was the seemingly incorrect pattern supposed to be like that? Knowing it couldn't be right, trusting that it was, I tried to keep going. Three times I tried. Three times I failed. 

I finally stuffed the Mandala into my basket and left it in a huff to play in the garden.

It occurred to me there, hands deep into prairie soil, that the problem wasn't the current row, but rather the previous row. And indeed, upon examination, it was proven so. I missed a few stitches out of the expected 552, making it impossible to move forward.

What a lot of analogies this stage can claim:

• A good foundation leads to success.
• I am the trinity of past, present and future.
• Trust your instincts!
• If at first you don't succeed ... try at least three times before giving up in a huff.
• When things are out of sync, reflect on, examine, the past, the situation. Adjust as needed to be successful, to move.on.keep.going.

Mandala 2020 - Stage 10

The author of the mandala pattern wrote "whew" at the end of this tenth section, and I wholeheartedly agree! I was initially intimidated by the bobbles - I don't particularly care for making bobbles - and this section includes 88 of the little beauties! And the rows included  color changes almost every stitch. Challenging. Frightening. I delayed work on it, intimidated.

Tension became an issue as I struggled to manage two colors of yarn and new stitch instructions and bobbles. Without just the right amount of tension, the mandala would be a mess - too tight in places and unable to support the next row of stitches; too wobbly and saggy in others. In these crazy times of global pandemic and death and personal loss, I find tension playing a role as well. Too much stress, tension, I break and weaken, unable to move.on.keep.going. No tension, while sounding glorious, produces a different weakness, but just as destructive: forgetfulness, neglect, lack of clarity and focus.

As I weave my uravelled life back together I speculate that there is no "back" to go to. I stood outside one night in the golden light of the full Flower Moon and asked the universe to show me my way back, begged my spirit to come back to me. And the seeming response was the clear siren call, "You cannot go back. There is no path back." 

This tension of healing, well-being, understanding this grief. It is freeing, comforting. Keep this tension just so, and the pattern and usefulness, beauty and glory, are revealed as I step forward, into whatever new life I am creating, wholly, one stitch at a time.