I'm a recovering perfectionist. Most people that know me well are not surprised by this. As a kid I would only do things that I thought I could do well. If I hit a wall, I'd stop. If I didn't know what would happen I wouldn't even try. Sad.
So fast-forward to a much different season in life. This spring I spent a week in (mostly) silence on a personal retreat. During meals at the retreat center recordings were played on various topics related to solitude, silence and meditation. One day the topic turned to craft and art. The post on quilting brought me back to this idea.
The speaker compared a life of "craft" to a life of "art." The basic idea being that our lives can be a replica of someone else's idea of beauty or a risky and original attempt at our own meaningful expression of a life of beauty. It struck me as thought provoking and I've thought about it off and on ever since.
Here's the thing. Almost nothing in life is "either-or." All or nothing. How can we find our voice unless we follow in the footsteps of other artists? An artist begins as a craftsperson. Not to mention that a craftsperson--someone who consistently creates a similar item is needed and valuable, not second-class. We need both to make our world work. We need to be both. Consistent and brave. Modeling the principals and giving space for new forms of expression.
This is essential as a person. I model my life on the women who have come before me, those who live around me. Yet, I need to be my own voice, my own unique contribution to womanhood. As a wife. As a mother. As a person of faith.
It's just easier to be safe. To pick a safe life in a safe neighborhood. To teach our kids to be safe. It's a starting point, but the next lesson is to learn who we really are and to try to become that person. This is scary. To empower my husband, my children, my friends to live their dreams means distance, risk, maybe failure. The stakes are high. It's understandable to be scared.
People who are afraid do so many stupid things. And that's where faith comes in, I think. Faith, for me, is the balance of craft and art. Rules and risk. Clarity and mystery. It's what moves me forward and calms my fear. It's what gives me strength to listen to a friend or send my husband off on a plane to a canyon in the middle of nowhere. It's what compels me to try to live a life of meaning and purpose. It's what's teaching me that it's paradoxically safe to risk.
Quilting--perfection with all the corners matching and the colors coordinating and the stitches even verses an improvised, off-center gathering of fabric layered and bound. They both keep you warm at the end of the day. Both are needed. Both offer lessons in discipline and beauty.
