“ in and out

up and down

over and over

she wove her strands of life together.

patching hole after hole

eventually she saw it was more than

the threads that gave her strength,

it was in the very act of weaving itself,

that she became strong. ”

~terri st. cloud

I want to share with you today a story of weaving.

Last September, my sweetheart and made a trip to Shepherdstown, WV to visit my brother.  We spent part of an afternoon strolling down German Street and visiting the little shops that sit side by side, each one a unique surprise that adds its own color to the collage that is this wonderful little town.  As soon as I saw On The Wings Of Dreams, I knew I needed to go there and breathe in all the wonderful things they had to offer.  It was an amazing place filled with all kinds of things that just begged me to take them home — crystals and jewelry and gemstones and candles — and the list goes on and on.  I wandered to a section in the back and was looking at the books and cards when a poster caught my eye.  I don’t remember any more which one it was; but I do remember that my pockets were empty and my budget stretched.  I pulled a scrap of paper from my purse and wrote the web address — www.bonesigharts.com.   I counted out my change and managed to take along a polished tiger eye as a souvenir of my visit, and I wrapped it in the paper with the URL and tucked them in my pocket.  When the weekend was over and we returned home, I smoothed out my scrap of paper and typed the address into my browser.  So began an adventure that continues to unfold each day.

I discovered that the artist, Terri St. Cloud, not only sold her work but also seemed committed to bringing love and hope and gentle strength to anyone who cared to spend a little time thinking about her Bone Sighs — words that spring from the depths of being genuine and female, words that touch the reader deep in the heart.  I signed up for the Daily Quote, and the first one that arrived said:

“ they plowed down her trees and she wept.

they forgot to take the sky tho.

the clouds became her refuge. ”

~terri st. cloud

‘Wow,’ I thought, ‘I’ve felt that way!’  I knew what it meant to feel like you were losing so many things that you held dear and then to discover that what really mattered was something that nobody could take from you.  I couldn’t help myself.  I wrote Terri an email, just to say, “YES!”  She responded; and so began the exchange of a gazillion (give or take) ideas, thoughts, and emails that goes on to this day.

I’ve never been very good at joining things.  Some of us just march to the beat of a different drummer.  In my case, I’ve been told that maybe I dance to mine — a little bit like Elaine Benes on Seinfeld.  Never did I imagine that through meeting Miss Terri I would come to know a whole circle of genuine and deep women whose blogs and notes enrich my life as each dances to her own unique music.  There’s MerryME, whose Random Thoughts are anything but random; there’s Akasa, the grandmother, who asks us to share our Heart Songs; there’s Queen Dani, whose heartfelt stories touch us with both their meaning and their beauty.  As the circle widens and the list of blogs on the right side of my own grows, I realize that I have unwittingly been woven into a tapestry that is made of the bone sighs, the heart songs, the random thoughts, and the truth-telling that brings together the varied colors and sounds that spring from the hearts and souls of each weaver.  There is no uniform of the day in this group.  There is no secret handshake.  All that is required is a desire to weave and the honesty to bring who you really are — to add your own color to the weaving.  Through the love and sisterhood, the thoughts and responses, the encouragement and support that we bring to each other, each of us becomes just a little more ourselves.  I think of our mothers and our grandmothers and theirs before them; and I think, “yes, the women are the weavers — of cloth and of dreams and of stories and of life.”

“ in and out

up and down

over and over

she wove her strands of life together.

patching hole after hole

eventually she saw it was more than

the threads that gave her strength,

it was in the very act of weaving itself,

that she became strong. ”

~terri st. cloud