We use the phrase loosely, “the fabric of life” but what does it mean? Is it just a covering, a veneer, or is it something of substance, that gives meaning?
The fabric of my life, as I know it now, is interwoven intricately with family, flora and fauna. I could not ask for more.
Let me explain what I mean …
I’ve lived for over 25 years in my neighbourhood and had never stopped to watch a white heron in flight. I do now.I never realised, the beige of the Wheatbelt is beautiful at dawn. I do now.Who knew a front garden filled with roses, is a welcome like no other. I do now.Sunlight warms the whitest iceberg. I do now.In a forest, the trees are not green, it is the leaves that make it vivid. I do now.Previously my hiking boots stomped on leaves and stones, ignoring the fallen one, tortoise shelled by age and sun. My steps are now lighter. I do now.My curiosity was blunted. I never stopped to wonder why. I do now.I didn’t know, the Black Swan raises cygnets, as white as snow. I do now.And, when I’m not home, snowdrops bloom at the front door. I do now.I didn’t know life was meant to be lived, eye to eye. I do now.
As I reach summit, my steps are now steady and mindful.
I choose to live differently.
The fabric is tactile.
I enjoy the wrinkles when they appear. They are there for pause.
A crease is a crease, not a crevasse.
Yes, it’s all about perspective.
The colours are sometimes muted, at other times, vivid, perhaps even iridescent, but monochrome will also do.
That fabric is sometimes tangled with endless responsibility.
But I know when I hold on tight at one end, it will unravel,
because my Creator, holds the other end.
Until next time
a dawn bird