slow cloth

20140430-132917.jpg

I just finished the fourth tea towel on this warp, and it looks like I might be able to eke out a fifth towel at the end of the warp. At first, I was a bit dismayed. I thought this project was done, and I felt a tug of frustration when I realized it wasn’t. There’s no possibility of cutting the fabric now, and discarding the remaining warp. That would be wasteful.  I shall weave on.

Slow cloth becomes slower. As I breathe deeply and release my expectations, I am able to focus on the benefits of this. An extra towel is always welcome. An opportunity to practice being in the moment of this project for a bit longer is even more welcome.

Part of the joy of living in this quiet place is that broad swaths of each day are made up of unstructured time. Once the cats are given their hugs and their dinner, the evening can go wherever it meanders. Usually, it is a blend of learning, weaving and just being, punctuated at intervals by the quiet “M’rraou?” of one of the cats. They are my mindfulness bells, calling me back into the moment to listen patiently to their needs and share hugs and purrs.