Greetings Dear Ones!

Did you ever notice that when you are shopping for a certain kind of car you start to see that car everywhere? Or when people find out you like antique spinning wheels and treadle sewing machines, suddenly they become the theme of every gift anyone ever gives you? I had a friend who mentioned she liked roosters and ever after, for years of holiday seasons, she was gifted with ceramic roosters, napkins printed with roosters, wreaths decorated with roosters, lamps made in the shape of roosters… Some would say that this is the Law of attraction at work, while others might say the Universe has a warped sense of humor. (What else can account for the 1990’s proliferation of garden gnomes?) And yet, no matter how many times we mention how much we adore gold bullion, winning lottery tickets, or a good working team of oxen, they all seem a bit thin on the ground? It’s because Abundance sneaks towards us obliquely, where we least expect it, where we Observe Mildly without investing our Longing.

In any case, to focus on the art of Cherishing better, I have been on a quiet little treasure hunt. I have taken my eye off the horrors of What I Wish could be Different, and instead, watch from the corner of my eye… Evidence is mounting that we are doing a better job of being kind to each other than anti-social media might have us believe. Suddenly, without making too big a deal of it, I am seeing little random act of Kindness everywhere, as proliferous as summer goldenrod in the fields. These are the things that touched my heart and taught me a bit more about Cherishing this week:

For the past month, a mother has been using my shop in the evenings, borrowing the cutting table and machines after I was gone for the day, to build the most beautiful and unique quilt for her son, who was leaving for college. She had saved all his old T-shirts—each one commemorating a precious event or era in his life, from concerts to camps, school teams, and the like. Her boy is now off to his new future, wrapped up in all the love and joy of his past. On those bewildering days when a young man might come back to his dorm and wonder, amidst all the disorienting changes one is apt to experience away from home, who he is and where he came from—there will be this quilt, a second skin, waiting to ground him like only a loving parent’s hug can do.

A beautiful woman, who is also a very adept home-sewer, came in and gave me more than a dozen lovely summer dresses to hem for her. “I want my legs to show a tiny bit more skin. I am not the frump these dresses say I am! And I am outgrowing the thinking that I ought to do everything by myself or for myself,” she said, “Of course, I could do these, but I decided to honor your professional capacities and to honor myself in the process. It’s taken a long time to realize I am worthy of being served. Just because I can do something shouldn’t mean I have to.” I melted. There was so much power stepping into that statement. Instinctively, I wanted to offer her a discount because of the volume she was bringing in. She batted it away. “Do you hear me?” she asked. “I am worthy of full price. For me to value myself and my time, you must do the same; that’s how this thing works.” Wow. Good lesson!

A young, somewhat haggard man came in with a pair of torn work pants to mend and his wife’s jacket, which needed a new zipper. “If you don’t have time to both things this week, would you please do my wife’s jacket first?” he asked plaintively. “It’s her favorite jacket and I hate to see her shivering.” I glanced from his frayed clothes to the look of tender pity in his eyes and realized I was witnessing a marriage vow with real skin on it. (And yes, it's already time to shiver in the evening in Vermont!)

A gentle, soft-spoken man with velvet eyes came to collect his order and saw a complimentary mask hanging from the hanger. He offered to buy it but I insisted I give them to all the customers. “I have been wondering where to get one of these,” he said. “I want to get one for my husband who has to wear a mask all day long and they cut into his face. This looks like it will be so much softer on his skin.” He was more excited about the fact that he had found a mask for his partner than that his jacket had been mended!

On and on the cherishing lessons came--the woman paying for her daughter’s bridesmaid dress, the inspiring friend setting up a recurring Zoom discussion on the book White Fragility, a summer music camp imaginatively setting itself up on line to continue to nurture the community, each and every person I see wearing a mask and smiling….

I recently came across a wonderful story, shared by author Terry Hershey, about a little boy having nightmares. To paraphrase, the little boy kept visiting his mother’s bed all night long and saying he was scared; he did not want to be in his bed alone. She repeatedly sent him back to bed, telling him he could never be alone, as God was everywhere and always with him. This failed to comfort him and eventually he returned and said he preferred “someone with skin.”

The story made me smile for so many reasons—not the least of which is the shear RELIEF that I no longer have those broken nights of sleep every parent endures, and those pointless 4 a.m. negotiations with “monsters under the bed.” My heart goes out to both that boy (whom I remember being) and that mother (whom I also remember being). This is partly why I used to put my children to bed with a series of prayers, bribes, lullabies, and live animals to keep them company. (If skin is in short supply, fur will do!)

When I look at the Cherishing moments of this week—the gentle gifts of self I was privileged to witness, they all involve Skin. I love that a middle-aged mother-of-many loves herself enough to show a glimpse of her knees. I love that she lets my hands do her work. I love that a young man has all the T-shirts of his youth, and the imbued love of his mother, still next to his skin, whenever he wants it. Our tender human skin needs clothing for warmth and protection—like jackets when we shiver, and dresses for celebrations.

It’s hard, during these Covid times, not to connect in touch, in hugs, in skin with each other. Most people tell me that hugging is what they miss the most. Yes, we get to “see” each other, “hear” each other—and stay what is ironically called “in touch” all over the world. But we miss each other’s skin.

If we think of God as “Love,” yes, Love is everywhere. Energy is everywhere. Ideas are everywhere. But it is never anything we can touch, taste, see, feel, hear, or smell until there is skin involved—be it the skin of our hands or by the skin of our teeth. It seems sacrilegious to think that an exhausted, flawed human near the end of her rope, could be preferable to “God” but to those of us who are frightened and need some comforting, skin makes a big difference. Cherishing is how we put our own skin in the game, no matter what color it is. I am in awe of the way my fellow humans are doing this in kind little ways all around me. All I had to do was notice and jump in. Love has no hands but ours. Thanks for your Good Work! Let the mending continue!

Yours aye,

Nancy