Greetings Dear Ones,

I confess. I hate the word “Just.” As seamsters and tailors, we heard the word “just” nearly every day: It “just” needs a stitch or two; it “just” needs a tuck; it “just” needs a new zipper… and these items, in order, are a child’s woolen sweater from the 1970’s that has been completely chewed by moths, an ornate pair of jeans with heavy top stitching that needs to come in two inches at the waist only (not the bum, she needs all the room she can get in the bum), and a down parka from L.L. Bean that has three linings. I “just” want to smack these people who say “just.” “Just” is a way of minimizing their desires to make them look more manageable—as if we have no idea what they are really asking us to do and could be convinced by their blithe, blind, and cheery optimism.

These people have no idea how their choices are impacting others. Don’t get me wrong—I have no problem doing this work for people—I love this work—it’s why I chose to go into this business. (Ok, not really…I chose it for the glamour, fast cars, and sex appeal! …um…They’re on their way, right?) I just get irked when people think they are asking for a little, when actually, they are asking for a lot. They think something “just” is something minimal. It isn’t. “Just” has other meanings too…

When we think about how our choices are impacting others, that’s when we get to the heart of a similar word: Justice. Both words come to us from the Latin root: jus, or justus , meaning “law.” (Laws, of course, are those things other people should follow. And a lawyer, according to Ambrose Bierce, is “one skilled in circumvention of the Law.”) “Gimme a break,” says a bellicose man with whom I was working yesterday. “Everyone knows Right from Wrong. Everyone. We think of Justice as the morally right and fair state of things. But we wouldn’t need it if everyone just did the right damn thing. They know what to do. They just won’t do it.” Clearly, this fallible aspect of humanity thrills him as much as treading in un-bagged dog poop.

But what is the “right damn thing?” What is “fair?” To treat everyone “the same” is not the same thing as treating everyone fairly. If one man needs his trousers hemmed four inches, shall I trim all trousers four inches? That would be absurd, though it would definitely simplify my work! When one of us has a headache, we don’t all take aspirin. (Unless of course, that person is Prudence! In which case, we should all take valium.)

Justice is like medicine that seeks to help a body balance itself into healing. I tried to tell my children when they were very small that medicine had magic powers that only grownups could understand—it was too dangerous for children to touch—that’s why I had to keep it locked away. My very sensible young daughter short-circuited my long-winded explanation with this gem: “Mummy, I get it. Medicine is stuff that if you take it when you are sick it will make you healthy but if you take it when you are healthy, it will make you sick.” Yes. Precisely. Take it from a four-year-old: Medicine is only to help the body recover its balance.

Justice is the quest for balance. Charging too little for our work is just as unethical as charging too much. I met a man yesterday who showed me pictures of his wife’s craft projects. “She could charge money for this stuff but she doesn’t know how,” he said sadly, with the look of one who sees needed revenue escaping out the door in the form of gnomes made from clothespins.

We are all trying to achieve our balance. In the shop, what is out too much must be taken in, what is in too tight must be let out, as people notice the shifts in their own equators. Balance is not static—it’s fluid and continuous.

A younger person I am extremely fond of calls me for advice. I tell him to talk until he is done talking and to listen carefully for his own wisdom as he speaks. He does. At the end of it, without a single word from me, he has come up with a plan he feels good about. He is sure he knows what to do. He feels like he is embarking on the Right Path. It is a hard but noble and virtuous path. I am proud of him but I am biting my cheeks to keep from giggling. I have given him no advice. He pauses, senses the mirth, and asks what is funny. I tell him to call back in 48 hours and I will tell him. This frustrates him but he agrees. He calls in less than 48 hours and admits he chose a different path. “Well, that’s why I was laughing,” I admit. I knew that path would not be a long one. It seemed a steep and joyless route. In choosing it, he was struggling to disconnect his feelings from his reasoning. Nothing dooms a path faster. Intuition must balance logic. “I’m glad you chose the difficult mess that is Joy,” I tell him sincerely, “rather than the straight and narrow.”

“Do you think I am stupid?” he wants to know.

“Finding your truth involves a lot of mistakes,” I say. “Mistakes are not stupid in and of themselves. I won’t think you’re stupid until you keep making the same ones over and over without learning. That’s the only thing that can ever be called stupid. Make amends when you need to and keep learning. And no matter what, say Yes to Life when it calls.”

To me, that’s what justice is. It’s not making things “fair” or equal or even. It’s not even about righting wrongs, which is often impossible. It’s about seeking the Truth behind wrong turnings, mis-guidings, and “mis-takes” (taking what we should not have taken). Sometimes, we need help around mending things we should not have broken. This is where laws, traditions, precedents, and the elders’ wisdom are helpful—not necessarily so we can make as “new” but so that we can make “better.” (I can’t help thinking of that meme that says “I want to be fourteen again so I can ruin my life in different ways. I have new ideas.”)

Yesterday was the Autumnal Equinox here in the Northern Hemisphere. Night equals day. For one brief time, the scales of Light were balanced. (I fell over anyway.) We enter the zodiac of Libra—symbolized by the scales of Justice. It’s time to harvest what we need and return the rest to the soil from which it sprang.

I love the stark boldness of the seasons here in New England as Nature changes her face. The maples are causing a riot of color on the hills as chilly night caresses on their bare legs send up their flaming blushes. I celebrate the coming longer nights, even as I lament the lack of sunshine. Thorn-torn and ragged, I am tired of the heat of summer, of chaff on my neck from mowing, of fingers stinging green with weeding. I am ready to be done with poison ivy! I welcome the prospect of sitting by my kitchen wood stove, knitting, spinning, dreaming of the gardens to come. (Dreaming of gardens is my favorite part of gardening.)

There is still a lot to clean up first. Life is messy and there are consequences for our actions—like leaving that hoe where I could step on it. We live, evolve, and grow by continually shaping each other through our choices. The way I Give is influenced by the way you Receive (or refuse to); the words you choose are influenced by the way I listen (or don’t). Like my dear young friend, we discover truth at the pendulum swing between wrong and righteous behavior. Righteousness with no compassion can be every bit the problem that Compassion with no righteousness can be. We need balance.

We are like garments needing to be whole: We need a left. We need a right. There is no sense hating one or the other. Both are necessary. We need our male and female energies. We need our heads and hearts to partner. We need intuition and logic to inform each other. We need to come together as a whole and balance. Not so that we can stand perfectly still and “just” look pretty. But so we may Dance.

Let the mending continue! Thanks for your Good Work.

Yours aye,

Nancy