I have never been a needlepointer. Spell check doesn't like that word, so I'm so not a needlepointer that I'm not even exactly sure what one is called. But this past summer while on vacation on St. Simon's Island, our family made our annual stop at the local yarn shop (you have to visit and support the lys when you're on vacation if you want there to be lys' when you need one). I bought a few things that I can't get at my lys -- Knitch -- and offered to buy Natanya something. She had just finished Fiber Camp where'd she knitted, sewed, felted and more. I had visions of us sitting on the porch, soaking up the sun and the sea air, knitting away while the boys napped. But she didn't want more yarn, she wanted a very expensive and advanced needlepoint canvas/kit of a Fabergé egg. I had to say no. I knew it was too complicated, and wasn't even sure if she abandoned it whether or not I'd be able to do it. She was set, determined, stubborn as all get out. But we said no. She pouted, she may have even cried. I asked the woman who owns the shop for suggestions of something more age and skill appropriate. Natanya wanted nothing to do with the giant holes on the kid's kits and truly the images were at best insipid. We were about to give up and leave when I saw a small basket of needlepoint kits. They were make-up bags, scissors and eyeglass cases. They were called "Stitch and Zip -- Preassembled Needlepoint" kits. Natanya lit up and selected a small cosmetics bag with an image of lipstick, mascara and nail polish -- complete with silver, gold and red metallic threads. You may be thinking "tacky" and I'm not going to argue with you. But it also said "little girl" and I could imagine wanting something just like it when I was 8. So I acquiesced. But I went a step further, and bought my own tacky kit -- this one a leopard print scissor case.
I just modified my vision and imagined that Natanya and I would sit with our needlepoint on the porch, sewing away, soaking up the sun, while the boys napped. And so we did, a few times anyway, but boy, needlepoint is slow going, especially when you're regularly stopping to help your daughter rip out wayward stitches and rethread her needle. And when we got home, they managed to find their way to a drawer and sink deeper and deeper below other abandoned, I mean hibernating, projects.
Flash forward to today. Natanya is home sick from school -- the second day home with strep. She probably could have gone back today, but I wanted her to be well for a day before returning. So, we spent the morning together with our unearthed projects--sitting on the living room coach needlepointing. She finished the metallic silver mascara case and started the red metallic nail polish bottle. And I finished all but the black spots on my leopard scissors case. But here's what I'm wondering. What does the back side of needlepoint look like if you know what you're doing? What did the back side of my mother-in-laws needlepoint look like? I doubt it looks like the back of mine--in fact I know it doesn't. Even the back of Natanya's needlepoint is neater. Mine is a rat's nest of threads, split, sewn over, and the image from the front is not at all repeated on the back. I would have thought it would be a mirror of the pretty and neat outside. Afterall, the back side of my knitting always looks good. Hmmm.
Being me, I can't help but look for some meaning in this. I have mused over this type of symbolism in my life before. I love clear, clean spaces. A clutterless room makes me feel good all over. But I will achieve that clutterless state by cramming things into drawers, piling papers into boxes and tucking them away. And then with some regularity, I'll go through a ritualistic cleaning of the hidden spaces, which also feels really good. I'm well aware that if I were truly organized, not just a person who enjoys organizing, that my hidden spaces would be just as neat as the public spaces. As one who has meditated a lot, I know this to be true of my mind as well. It's important to have the outer part of oneself, the way one acts and expresses oneself in the world, be clear. But if the inner mind is cluttered, disorganized, crammed full -- then real sustained peace is never achieved. I have always managed to achieve that peace in small doses. Just like cleaning out the drawers one can clean out the mind. The struggle I have is not letting it get cluttered up again.
A few weeks ago, my husband gave a sermon in which he talked about the building of the Mishkan, the portable Temple the Jews carried with them for the 40 years they wandered in the desert, and the construction of the Ark (think "Raiders of the Lost Ark" and you've got the picture)that was used to carry the tablets on which the Ten Commandments were engraved. The Ark was a square box made of wood and the Torah explains that: "You shall cover the wood with pure gold from the inside and from the outside." (Exodus 25:11) Now, we can easily see why you would put gold on the outside -- but what would be the point of putting the gold on the inside, where no one would ever see it? The Talmud explains that a person's outside should be a reflection of their inside. There are more clues to this teaching in the Hebrew language itself. The Hebrew word for face, transliterated "paneem" is practically identical to the word "pineem" which means interior. There should be no difference between the face we present to the world -- the outside of my scissors case -- and the interior. Oops.
Well, I don't want to be too hard on myself. It is my first attempt at needlepoint. But I think if I decide to do it again -- I'd be wise to seek some advice from those who have needlepointed before me. Maybe read a book. Maybe practice before embarking on a project. Maybe needlepoint just for the purpose of having a neat interior. Just like yoga, it doesn't happen overnight. That's why we call doing poses our practice.
