Tuesday, 19 September 2017

Tapestry. . .

He's come to take me back. . . 

If you've read my blog (on more than one occasion), you'll know that I am a huge fan of singer songwriters because I admire people who are able to not only create music but can also perform their own music with their own intentions.  As much as I admire people who can interpret the music of others, there is something quite intangible to my mind, about hearing someone perform the music from a point of conception to fruition and can truly understand and know what the intent of that song has meant.  Carole King is one of those superstars who belongs to that unique group of entertainers whose music has touched so many lives on so many levels, throughout much of our modern music era.

My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue
An everlasting vision of the ever-changing view
A wondrous, woven magic in bits of blue and gold
A tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold

I must confess that this song is not one that springs to mind when I think of Carole King.  In fact, I've only just heard this song today as I continue to work from home and plod along through the daily demands of other bits and pieces of my own tapestry.  Do you ever think about your own tapestry?  What colours would you weave into yours?  What influences you to weave certain motifs in there?  Who taught you how to weave?  What can people expect to see in your tapestry?  I can't imagine how many times I've stopped and started again, because I thought I was striving for perfection in my tapestry, when in actual fact, I should have just started weaving and seen what came up for me.  Sometimes we try to have elaborate plans - which is fine, don't get me wrong - but if we keep waiting for perfection, and it never comes - what kind of tapestry do we have?  None, that's what.  Because we never start weaving.

Once amid the soft silver sadness in the sky 
There came a man of fortune, a drifter passing by
He wore a torn and tattered cloth around his leathered hide
A coat of many colours, green and gold either side

I don' t know about you but I'm becoming more discerning and more deliberate about how I spend my time.  If we have limited time with our tapestry, then it means that we should be learning about what it should look like and how it can impact on other people's tapestries.  I'm not saying that we need to be role models or lead by example, but if people want to look at my tapestry and find beauty in it - then that's not necessarily a bad thing.  What would be a bad thing is if people take one look at your tapestry, start to get jealous, and then want to ruin it.  What man of fortune has drifted by you?  Have you shown him your tapestry?  What will he have taught you to add to your tapestry?  There is nothing wrong with people adding value to your tapestry.  


He moved with such uncertainty as if he didn't know
Just what he was there for, or where he ought to go
Once he reached for something golden hanging from a tree
And his hand came down empty

What do you do when things you pine for, long for, don't come?
We need to learn how to handle disappointment and setbacks.  It is too easy to blame other people for our predicaments and situations.  We get dealt what we get dealt.  It's our job to rise above it and hustle for whatever else we think we want, in terms of our goals and other directions that we want to explore.  When I have experienced disappointments and setbacks, I have acknowledged and accepted why they have appeared.  You shouldn't spend too much time agonising over the source and use that answer to blame everything on.  Instead use that information to rebuild, to restore and renew faith in yourself to do what needs to get done.  Sometimes when we reach for golden things, they are only illusions.  The most obvious is not actually there.  So be real about what is actually real and what is not.

Soon within my tapestry along the rutted road
He sat down on a river rock and turned into a toad
It seemed that he had fallen into someone's wicked spell
And I wept to see him suffer, though I didn't know him well

There will be strangers that cross your path and expect sympathy or some kind of support.
We may only be told their story and not get a full picture of their tapestry.  The more we get to know people, the more involved in their tapestry they may become.  They might try to hand over the weaving of their tapestry to you - because you seem to have the skills and knowledge to know how to weave your own tapestry.  But that's the thing isn't it.  You won't know how to weave your own tapestry if you don't gain the practical experience, learn how to engage the muscle memory to become adept at weaving it for yourself.  Be careful and wary of wicked spells that people throw at you.  The thing is, you don't know that it's a wicked spell until it's too late - some vicious cycle that you keep repeating or some stupid behaviour that you can't escape because you can't see the bigger picture.  You become seduced by promises and pledges that don't exist.  So focus on your immediate goals and what you need to do.

As I watched in sorrow, there suddenly appeared
A figure gray and ghostly beneath a flowing beard
In times of deepest darkness, I've seen him dressed in black
Now my tapestry's unraveling - he's come to take me back
He's come to take me back. . . 

I hope that when your tapestry starts to unravel, that you try to understand where those lines of weave may fall.  If you are able to keep track of where your strands lay, you can easily gather up the pieces again and start to repair your tapestry.  I think there is no such thing as a perfect tapestry.  Anyone who would tell you different - is a liar.  We need to rejoice in our pain and sorrow within our weaving, because it is only then that we learn.  We should not be projecting our tapestries onto others, when they have their own to weave.  If someone wanted to join me in weaving my tapestry, I would ask them to take a look at their own tapestry first, before trying to weave ours together.  Maybe this is why someone is trying to unravel it then?  To try to take me back. . .