On crying and timing and finding your way home again


Today I cried. It rose up and poured out so hard and fast and it felt so good. 

Today for the first time in 12 ish years I dusted off my sewing machines and I sewed and I sang and I cried. 
I used to sew every day for years. It was my mediation, my homecoming, my joy. And then everything changed. When life got scary I put away my sewing machines and I never sewed again. I buried that part of me so deeply I really thought I would never sit at them again. The last thing I ever sewed (before today) was my wedding dress. Ooof! And I hadn't even put that together until today.
So, today I plugged them in and turned them on and the tears fell. I shook with the release of something I had kept locked away, and then I turned up the music, and I sat down and I sewed and sang! 
I feel like all that life is, is finding your way back home over and over again. And sometimes it takes a few days, a few breaths, the sound of a song you'd forgotten about or the smell of a stranger passing in the street, to bring you back to yourself, and sometimes, sometimes it takes years. 
But today as the tears flowed I felt so grateful to be here again. Feeling the fabric running through my fingers, remembering why I dragged them all around the world for nearly 20 years, and feeling so deeply grateful for the journey that slowly but surely brought me home.
Sal xx

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