With much delight and warmth of heart, I have resumed what my dear friend and I call “artist’s way.”  Actually, it started out using Julia Cameron’s Artist’s Way, but in the five+ years since, it’s been many things — mainly our soul time.  A phone call a week, some quiet time, conversation, feedback — what every woman needs.

This time is sacred and confidential, but with an open heart I believe I can share lessons I’ve learned with sincere thanks given to my friend for her insight.  This week’s lesson: psychosomatic illness.

psychosomatic (per Merriam-Webster):

1
: of, relating to, concerned with, or involving both mind and body <the psychosomatic nature of man
– Herbert Ratner>

2
: of, relating to, involving, or concerned with bodily symptoms caused by mental or emotional disturbance <psychosomatic symptoms> <psychosomatic medicine>

There can be medical reasons behind a migraine.  If I go to a medical doctor, I’m certain I could come away with a prescription and repeat visits until a diagnoses is made.  But I can also listen to my body, keep a journal of the onsets, be aware of my surroundings and circumstances and see if there’s not a pattern.  I can take into account where my mind and emotions are and see how they might be playing out through my body.  After all, isn’t that what holistic care is about?

Undoubtedly I needed some rest.  Two a.m. is not a sustainable bed-time.  There are aspects of my life I need to be more aware of.  There are aspects of my life I need not take for granted.  I hope that in your life, you don’t have to be stricken before awareness is yours.  Our bodies are wise.  We need to listen and take care of them.

I cherish the fact that once a week, a dearly beloved mama-friend watches my younger children so that I have a couple of hours to run errands or to simply be alone.  This morning, though I planned a grocery shopping trip, other errands presented themselves.

I delivered (late Christmas) packets to some of our local OBs on behalf of BirthNetwork, and instead of dropping a packet in inner office mail, I actually called the Director of Women and Children’s Services to schedule an appointment to meet in person.  As someone entrenched in the birthing community in our area, I figure this is an important person to know and to have open communications with.  This was a bold step for me and an important one for our organization.  I hadn’t planned to make this connection today.

In effort to resume my morning pages (a journal of sorts), I next stopped at a local coffee shop for a tasty beverage and reflection.  When I walked in, there was an older gentleman just ahead of me.  We made eye contact, and of course I smiled.  Naturally, it didn’t go anywhere from there as he ordered, and I waited.  But this man conversed with the barista and with nearly every person he saw.

I almost took my drink and left the shop.  I could just write in the van.  There wasn’t a side table available, and I didn’t feel like writing at a table in the middle of the shop.  But I halted before the door and sat in a low leather chair in the corner, beside the lone high chair.  Can’t get away from the kids, I thought with a smile.

I wrote, but the older man was in my line of sight and his conversations interesting.  My writing changed direction, and I began to wonder if I was supposed to talk to this man.  Would I regret not talking to him?  I remembered the book Celestine Prophecy.  If I felt an energy connection with this person, truly I would be doing myself a disservice by not speaking to him.

So, I closed my book and rose to leave, but I went up to this perfect stranger, gently touched his arm for attention, and asked, “I’m sorry, but do I know you from somewhere?  You seem familiar to me.”  Perfectly true.  Perfectly bold for me.  I had no expectations.

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he replied with a smile, and we exchanged introductions as we realized that we didn’t know each other.  We also exchanged small talk in an effort to establish some footing, I suppose, some understanding of where the other person comes from.  But this was small talk, generic conversation.  He is capable of much more.  What he does for a job is not who he is, just as being a mother is not entirely who I am.

He said he’s in there all the time.  I told him I would see him again, and I hope I do.  I’m so glad I listened to the inner voice that told me to say hello.  You just never know what each day might bring.

*I highly reccomend the iced cacao mocha at Arsaga’s. 

I have a collection of handkerchiefs from my maternal great-grandmothers, grandmother, and great aunt.  One of the gifts made for Christmas was a quilt from these handkerchiefs for my mother.  I originally had lofty ideas of how beautiful this would be, but in reality, the hankies came in all colors and sizes.  Not to mention, I was making the last stitches on the binding as my mother entered my home on Christmas Eve.  Alas, a quilt was made, the love stitched throughout.  In my haste and lack of battery-charging, few photos were taken at the end of the process.

Due to the delicate nature of the handkerchiefs (most of which are much older than me), I backed them with Wonder-Under and the comparable alternative for which I don’t have a name but was all I could find when I made a mad dash back to the fabric store for more, only to find they were out of the W-U.

I laid out the kerchiefs in the order they fit best within the dimensions of the quilt — 45″x60″.  It’s a crib size quilt, but perfect for a lap quilt, too.  The smartest thing I did was take this photo.  I could refer to it later when the kids helped with arranging the kerchiefs they way they thought they should be arranged.  No, not very helpful.

I then ironed the hankies onto the front piece, a nice soft flannel.  This is why Wonder-Under is so wonderful. It’s just an adhesive interfacing to hold your applique in place until it’s sewn; it also helps prevent fraying.

Once everything’s ironed into place, I took time to sew around all the kerchief edges and once around the middle to make sure it is held in place.  For sake of time, I didn’t want to have to do a lot of quilting, so this at least gave it more of a quilted appearance.

Time to layer.  The flannel I chose for the front was also used for the back, except with the wrong side out.  The wrong side is a solid beige, unlike the front that has a faint petite floral pattern (which unfortunately mostly faded in the wash).  The middle layer is natural cotton batting, crib size.  I pinned all three layers and trimmed the edges to make attaching the binding easier later.

I used the machine to quilt.  Obviously, I was in a time crunch and honestly have not taken the time to hand-quilt anything as of yet. Using a wavy stitch on the machine I just ran through the quilt between all the handkerchiefs, starting from the middle and working my way out.  In my haste, I made mistakes and had a couple of gathers, but for this casual quilt, I think it will be fine — much like the purchased mocha-colored binding.  You can make your own binding, to be sure, but for sake of time and considering it was on sale for 30% off, it couldn’t be beat.

And neither could the expression on my mother’s face, knowing she would love the quilt even more than me.

The other halves of the handkerchiefs are saved, not to worry.  I promised my daughter I could make one for her someday, too.  As a finishing touch to the above quilt, I added a couple of embellishments.  One is a strip of ribbon that says “family ties,” which I knotted on either side and hand-sewed it into place toward the top.  At the bottom I made a “homemade” tag and sewed it into the binding.  Sometimes these little touches add even more personality.  Personality is something women in my family definitely have.

For me, procrastination is an issue, but when I really need down-time (the time when responsibilities are on hold, the dishes can wait and I don’t have to think about anything seriously), I tend to pop in a movie.  Let’s just say I watched quite a few movies over the weekend.  I even took a mommy date to the movies, alone.

The movies are over and the responsibilities resumed, but I notice a common theme in the movies I watched and the movies I love most.  They’re all about women’s lives, the emotions, the trials, the triumphs, the friends and the families.

Driving home from seeing Four Christmases, I thought about movie moms.  Now, in all honesty, I had also just watched The Women at home before I left (since it was due back that day).  When was the last time a movie truly captured what being the average mother is like?  And by average mother, I mean someone who doesn’t have six-figure income, a live-in housekeeper (or one at all) or a nanny.  When was the last time a major motion picture actually depicted a true birth and what a mom really looks like hours after the baby is born, the awkward first attempts at breastfeeding?  (Though I must give thanks to Four Christmases for giving breastfeeding such prominence, despite the negative connotations.)

I’m grateful that we have films like The Business of Being Born and Orgasmic Birth to highlight true birth.  I’m sure there are films out there about real life, true mothering, that I just haven’t seen because they haven’t made it into mainstream.  It’s too easy just to grab the latest blockbuster than to research a truly good film that might actually invoke thought during the movie.

That’s not to say I don’t appreciate the drama of the movies, that which adds fiction or exaggerates an aspect of life to make it more interesting, comedic and/or romantic.  Honestly, I don’t think I would have loved Under the Tuscan Sun so much had the movie just followed the book.  And even movies about ridiculously wealthy women, I suppose, gives me insight into another way of life.  Perhaps some day I might shop in Saks or drive a Lexus, but I won’t consider myself a failure if that day never comes.  After all, why watch a movie about real life when we have our own lives to live?

Next time I movie binge, I’ll try to remember that the movies I watch will affect me in some way, no matter how tuned out I may think I am.  That’s just the way energy works.  Hopefully I’ll be encouraged to live even better.

full disclosure of movies watched this weekend in order of my preference:
Amelie (in foreign films section)
The Women (the new version w/ Meg Ryan as Mary Haines)
Four Christmases
Becoming Jane

the kids watched:
Horton Hears a Who
The Wild
Aloha Scooby Doo (because my kids’ life isn’t complete without some Scooby)

A bit of housekeeping on the blog (as if there weren’t enough to do on the homefront!).  I will no longer be posting about birth on this blog, unless the nature of a story lends itself to appear here.

For local birth-related topics, please visit BirthNetworkNWA‘s website.

For good birth advocacy commentary and info, visit Birth Activist.

Other good “birthy” sites include, CIMS, Midwifery Today, Childbirth Connection, Unnecesarean, and a slew of others if you go searching around on your favorite search engine.

Birth . . . an every day miracle.

Here’s a cheers to the new year and hope for all the best!

Enjoy this day with your family and friends.

Eat a bite of black-eyed peas, and remember that what you do this day may indicate what you do in the year to come.  At least, that’s some of my family’s superstitions.  I also heard that who you spend new year’s eve with will be someone with you through the new year.  Fun stuff. 

Blessings be yours!
~Sara