I've been really fascinated by the wall hangings that are making their rounds on Pinterest. I stare at them and ooh and aah over the way they seem cozy and warm while they're decorative and beautiful. I can't get over the way simple strings come together in weaves and twists to make a bigger, beautiful pattern.
I sort of want to buy five hundred bunches (that's not even what they're called) of yarn and spin them and twist them and pompom them into beautiful wall hangings. I want to put them all over my house on every which wall. But I don't. Partly because Jason wouldn't tolerate walls covered in patterns of yarn. But mostly the reason that I don't make the weaved wall hanging thing is because it requires effort, an effort I'm just really not willing to make. An effort that I haven't mustered and, honestly, I'm okay with it.
I look at all those beautiful options, the way wall hangings and yarn can look a thousand kinds of different and still be all so beautiful, and I want to draw some gorgeous lesson. I want to say something like you're beautiful or we're all unique or there's no one like you. I want to draw out a fun little rhyme like "no one is youer than you, this is truer than true" (thanks Dr. Suess), but it just feels wrong. Mostly I just keep wondering what part of that weaving I'd be.
Maybe the yarn strands and ribbon remnants and torn fabric that make wall hangings so gorgeous.
Maybe there wrapped around small circles that we call life, adorning this time and this place.
Maybe pompoms and loops and swoops and pulls.
Maybe fringe and curls and multicolored.
Maybe we're one or two of those things or we're all of them, I can't tell because I'm not evolved that far just yet. This is a letter that offers little resolution. But let me leave you with this:
You are worth the effort. Your dreams are worth the effort. Your goals and life too.
You're more important than any bunch of yarn ever will be,