A SUSPENDED BLUE OCEAN
by HAFIZ, translated by DANIEL LADINSKY

I am not a spontaneous person.
Too much the introvert.
Too much controlled by the self-critic.
Too worried about what others will think
But I do get immense pleasure from enabling others
to have fun:-)

I had fun, my dears, I had fun:-)
I found some scraps of strip pieced fabric,
and lay the pattern pieces on them,
stitched, turned and stuffed!
The extra scraps I tore and knotted for hair.
This doll is holding a teddy,
given to me by my friend, Kay.

DON'T GO BACK TO SLEEP
by JELALUDDIN RUMI

I realise as I grow older
how easily I blindly accepted ideas,
how slavishly I held to dogmas and doctrines,
how desperate I was to belong.

I didn't ask the questions that mattered.
I didn't challenge the obvious inequality and discrimination.
I didn't fit, and yet I didn't move on.
I was always restless, yearning, seeking.

I wish I had then what Rumi alludes to -
a spirit of wakefulness -
or what Yeats hints at when he wrote -
"the voyage of discovery lies not in seeking new vistas,
but in having new eyes."

I have experienced  the two worlds touching -
it is ecstasy.
My heart pounds.
My spirit soars.
Loving kindness envelops me.

Using the elongated torso template,
I cut a slit in the chest and inserted gold netting,
reminiscent of a sun burst/heart burst.
A heart is held at the ends of the arms.
There are wisps of gold thread in her hair.

FOR A NEW BEGINNING
by JOHN O'DONOHUE

I am not a person to take risks.
I am reluctant to leave behind what I have outgrown.
I allow setbacks to overwhelm and stall me.
I see the long picture
and forget that my destination is only ever the next step.
Perhaps this caution prevents me
from becoming all that I was created to be.


"This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness
comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house of its furniture,
still treat each guest honourably.
It maybe clearing out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond."
Rumi

It was the phrase 'gray promises' that inspired this doll.
I extended the torso template even further
and drafted a pair of legs with feet.
This provided an empty canvas on which to stitch -
slowly, meditatively,
without judgement or correction.
I used grey thread to stitch rows of gray promises,
often ending in an 'X' - a road block.
Then I started again.

The rose bud I picked up on a walk around the block.
It seemed to fit in her heart.

EVERYTHING IS WAITING FOR YOU
by DAVID WHYTE

Usually I like to ponder upon the poetry of David Whyte.
But this one wearied me.
I felt the pressure of "Everything is waiting for you."
I just wanted to go for a long long walk
with my senses shut down.
I needed to meditate in silence.

Often I am overwhelmed by the world around me.
Even with the ordinary things that usually escape our attention - like a soap dish.
I become mindful of its origins -
all those who have been involved in its creation -
the artistry of the designers,
the quarry workers who dig the clay,
the truck drivers who deliver the finished product to the store,
the creators of the packaging -
and my heart overflows with a sense of belonging,
with a sense of connected-ness,
with gratitude.

Meditation in silence is a balm for me
when I my senses are over-stimulated or
sense of self is over-whelmed.

Here is an angel to pass on blessings,
with wings large enough to enfold, enwrap, comfort,
to protect me and bless me when I feel overwhelmed.
She extends blessings to all.
I extended the torso template a smidgen,
and drafted some wings.
I stitched around the wings until I could stitch no longer.

UNTITLED
by DAWNA MARKOVA

This poem left me feeling deflated.
I felt I was being bullied,
and chided for living a quiet life.

I am much more encouraged by Anais Nin's gentle words,
"And the day came
when the risk to remain tight in a bud
became more painful
than the risk it took to blossom."
For me, the same sentiments are expressed
but without the motivational rhetoric.

The task we were set today was to write for 10 minutes, without editing, using the prompt
"The fruit my life will pass on is ..."
I chose to write with a fabric pen on the whitish sheet I had.
I then used this as the fabric for my intuitive doll.
I cut the fabric into random sized pieces and then reassembled it.
I chose again to use the extended torso with stuffed arms and legs.
I created a circular skirt on which I had written the fruits I feel my life has borne.
But as so often happens when creating intuitively,
this doll refused to wear it!
Such impudence!!

The fruits I wrote on the skirt are:
compassion, recovery,
witness, soul friend, teacher,
empower-er, encourag-er, enabler,
storyteller, empath, listener,
creativity, perseverance, companion,
lateral thinker, fidelity.

Marcus Aurelius gently encourages me,
"At dawn,
when you have trouble getting out of bed,
tell yourself, 'I have to go to work - as a human being.
What do I have to complain of,
if I'm doing the things I was brought into the world to do?'

'Don't you see the plants, the birds,
the ants and spiders and bees
going about their individual tasks,
putting the world in order as best they can?
And you're not willing to do your job as a human being?
Why aren't you running to do what your nature demands?"

I will sow seeds, blossom and bear fruit.
I will stitch and write and companion.
I will run to do what my nature demands.

MINDFUL
by MARY OLIVER

Oliver once wrote
"Attention without feeling,
I began to learn,
is only a report.
An openness —
an empathy —
  was necessary if the attention was to matter."

Perhaps the ordinary becomes extraordinary when infused with my attention.
There is always something to delight in.

Once again I utilized the extended torso template
with lightly stuffed arms and legs.
A red running stitch attaches the red heart which
"instructs myself /over and over /in joy/ and acclamation."
The scraps from the lips were knotted into hair.
I found some recycled lips which I stitched together in pairs and stuffed.
Cavorting in smiles!!!

THE WAY IT IS
 by WILLIAM STAFFORD

This theme of thread fascinated me,
as it has fascinated many throughout time.

Klotho, the Greek fate, is purported to spin the thread of human life.

Lao Tzu wrote that life and death are one thread,
the same line viewed from different sides.

Jung said,
"when it's time for souls to meet,
there's nothing on earth that can prevent them from meeting,
no matter where each may be located."

 A Chinese myth tells of
 a red thread which is tied around those
who are destined to meet one another in certain situations
or to help each other in certain ways.
On reflection,
I am sure I have been connected to others by this red thread -
the coincidences and serendipitous events are just too strong.

From the Rig Veda

"There is an endless net of threads throughout the universe.
The Horizontal threads are in space.
The Vertical threads are in time.
At every crossing of the threads,
there is an individual,
and every individual is a crystal bead.
And every crystal bead reflects not only the light
from every other crystal in the net,
But also every other reflection throughout the entire Universe."

So I focused on the red thread of grace.
I used the extended torso template again,
with stuffed legs and un-stuffed arms.
I took some unbleached cotton cord
to represent my life line - labyrinthine, unicursal, dynamic.
I used red thread to represent moments of grace and connection.
I used a couching stitch with its repetitive violence -
stabbing the cloth,
drawing the thread through,
reconnecting.
The red beads reflect light.

AT BLACKWATER POND
by MARY OLIVER

The merging of myself into the natural world.
The immersing myself in a sensual world.
The grateful acknowledgement of the beauty and wonder of my world.

Mary Oliver offers me a wonderful mantra for daily living ...
oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

When the piwakawaka (fantail) dips and dives around me as I peg out the washing,
inviting me to join the dance ...
oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

When the strangers walking their dog across the road wave to me
walking my dog in the opposite direction,
celebrating our shared interest ...
oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

And when my adult son says "Thanks Mum that was delicious"
for a simple meal of sausages and potatoes,
flooding my being with the warmth of his gratitude ...
oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

A mantra which grounds me
and draws me into appreciation of the simple delights of daily life ...
oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

I used the extended torso template and one arm.
I created the second arm and skirt
from twigs collected on my regular walk.
The lichen was found abandoned by a nest builder,
laying on the hot asphalt path.

Spend time in nature.
Feel that you belong here just as a ponga or a tui does.

JUST NOW
by W.S. MERWIN

W.S. Merwin invites me to immerse myself
in the ordinary minutiae of my world -
natural and man-made.
He asks me to dwell in the quiet unnamed spaces.
The fruit of my attentiveness is that -
now and again -
the veil lifts and
I encounter the Divine.

I spent a lot of time reflecting on Anthony de Mello's Temple Bells.

The temple was built on an island and it held a thousand bells.
Bells big and small, fashioned by the the finest craftsmen in the world.
When the wind blew of a storm raged,
all the bells would peal out in a symphony that would send the heart of the hearer into raptures.
But over the centuries the island sank into the sea and, with it, the temple bells.
An ancient legend said that the bells continued to peal out, ceaselessly,
and could be heard by anyone who would listen.

Inspired by this legend, a young man traveled thousands of miles, determined to hear those bells.
He sat for days on the shore, facing the vanished island, and listened with all his might.
But all he could hear was the sound of the sea.
He made every effort to block it out.
But to no avail; the sound of the sea seemed to flood the world.
He kept at his task for weeks. Each time he got disheartened he would listen to the village pundits,
who spoke with unction of the mysterious legend.
Then his heart would be aflame…
only to become discouraged again when weeks of further effort yielded no results.
Finally he decided to give up the attempt.
Perhaps he was not destined to hear the bells.
Perhaps the legend was not true.

It was his final day,
and he went to the short to say goodbye to the sea and the sky and the wind and the coconut trees.
He lay on the sand, and for the first time, listened to the sound of the sea.
Soon he was so lost in the sound that he was barely conscious of himself,
so deep was the silence that the sound produced.

In the depth of that silence, he heard it!
The tinkle of the tiny bell followed by another, and another, and another.. and soon
every one of the thousand temple bells was pealing out in harmony,
and his heart was rapt in joyous ecstasy.

Do you wish to hear the temple bells? Listen to the sound of the sea.
Do you wish to catch a glimpse of God? Look intently at creation.

I used the extended torso and legs again.
This time I fully stuffed the legs and arms.
I cut out a simple shift from blue acrylic felt,
and set about cutting out these words:

"Look into life with quiet eyes.
Yield into the mystery of it
and dwell there in the quiet
unnamed spaces."

DON'T EXPECT APPLAUSE
by ELLEN BASS

Leonard Cohen crooned,
"There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets through."

Everywhere there are
cracks, glimmers, hints
of my true and wonderful self.
They are not wounds or mutations.
But windows to the soul.

I used the extended torso template
and added long legs, stuffed below the knee.
I created a stuffed heart with sheeting and a scrap of gold ribbon.
After stuffing the body with fibre-fill (dacron),
I cut a slit from front to back,
put a slither of gold curling ribbon behind
and stitched it together with gold thread and beads.