On the mend, again and again

As of late, we’ve been mending. Perhaps it comes with this season, the earlier shift into darkness, the puttering around the house, and the pulling out of last years sweaters for warmth. I’m no master seamstress, but it’s a homey task to show my 14 year old son how to stitch a sweater sleeve or reaffix the strap of a baseball hat. With my youngest, closing up the back end of a well loved stuffed animal over and over again, as their bodies slacken from lost stuffing each time. Our library book bag strap popped off trying to carry too many books, so that’s in the pile to be reinforced.

I was surprised to notice how much more I feel affection for the objects that have been repaired. The time spent on them, however small, had given them some glow of humanity and preciousness. Perhaps it has to do with the need for redemption, the way we wear down in places over time and need to bring our attention back to those areas. Through a little time and focus we can sometimes find and ameliorate our frayed pieces.

I’m spending some dark early mornings on my yoga mat stitching up sore shoulders and crunchy vertebrae, evenings drinking chammomile tea seeking early sleep. The body is an easy place to leave behind when manual labor wears through the fabric of every muscle. Winter cold sets in during the busiest season, and then the aches are even harder to ignore. I wryly imagine my depleted stuffed animal body, flopping around on the floor in upward dog.

Like the children’s story of The Veleveteen Rabbit, as the patina of usefulness comes upon us and the dignity of repair imbues us, slowly and surely we too become more real. What we work through, works on us too.