Beauty Born of Sorrow

In Memory of J.A.S.--May She Ascend

Today was a first: today I made the first pendant I have made since my mother passed; the first creation of mine that she cannot see with the eyes of the living, peering through her bifocals and holding it two feet from her face. It was born of sorrow and joy, longing and hope. At first I was only making it to replace a piece that sold from my online shop earlier today, but about halfway through, I suddenly realized what a milestone it was. Needless to say, it is not going in the store. I doubt I could part with it now, after that revelation.

It’s been a long time since I created anything. I hadn’t realized just how long. It felt good to have needle and thread in hand, to absorb myself in the art. It is a simple pleasure that made the summer bearable and I know it will help me through the aftermath.

It’s amazing, how much beauty can come of pain.

And so, life goes on. I’ll be seeing a doctor (hopefully tomorrow) to see what I can do about the anxiety and the insomnia. I feel a little better today than I did yesterday, because some of the problems in my life got suddenly resolved this afternoon. In fact, so many fortuitous things happened in such a short time that I have to wonder if, perhaps, someone had a hand in it. Whether hers or someone else’s, I don’t know, but I do feel a little bit bad for skipping the ahku dua today after the beginner’s class chat—I was skittish of having to think of my mother, and I told them as much. I looked over toward the shrine and said, “I offered to you on Friday, and will offer again this Thursday, but I’m tired of tears right now.”

 And that’s when things suddenly started to go right. I lay down to go to sleep for a bit and when I got up it was like the whole world had changed for me and tilted in my favor while my eyes were closed.

I’m still weepy, I’m still anxious, and I’m still tired—but it’s not as bad as it was. I feel hopeful, which is a big improvement.