Sunday morning 4:00 AM. A terrible case of hay fever makes me move to the couch not to wake Peter. I feel restless and scared and can’t quite figure out whether it is the movie we watched or the hay fever that makes me feel emotionally out of balance. With a running nose and watery eyes I switch on a light and walk into the kitchen to make some tea. With my tea in one hand and a book in the other, I curl up on the couch and continue reading about two people living a free and (modern) nomad life in New Zealand. Although their freedom sounds appealing I know I could never live that remote. Moving from place to place not knowing where you sleep at night is not something I aspire. I like the safety and comfort of a house and could never live that minimal. (Where would I make my dolls??) What I can understand though, is the need to step away from modern society and connect more to nature. Turn inwards and find deep confidence in silence.
After an hour the medicine start to work. I am able to breathe trough my nose again and decide to put the book away to try to get another hour of sleep before Isa awakes. At eight AM she stands besides me telling me to wake up and make breakfast (please). My whole body hurts and my head feels as if it is filled with cotton flocks. I stand up and walk into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I toast bread and poor tea, a chattering infant dances around my feet. In order to give myself some peaceful minutes I allow Isa to watch some cartoons. As I watch her watching that glowing screen I feel guilty. I watch her little body at the end of my feet and feel that overwhelming feeling of responsibility. As I take another sip of my tea I think I should read her a book instead of letting her staring at that screen.
“Let’s go make something Isa”, I suggest after a while. She protests and declares crafting is boring. “Oh come on’ I try. “Let’s see what we can craft together.” We move out on the terrace and start making a little fairy house out of terra cotta pots. She wants different things then I do and I notice I am not very patient. I try to get Isa into a roll play along the crafting process but she seems restless and tired too. “Maybe we should take a nap”, I think. But instead of taking a nap I start to make tiny mattresses and blankets for Isa’s felted fairies. I encourage her to play again and get irritated doing so. She wants to sew too… I am not patient enough to help her. Again I feel guilty. I am tired. This terrible hay fever! It feels as if she feels I am out of balance, but instead of accepting the situation I pull out the “if’s” and “or else’s”. It doesn’t seem to work. It never does really…
As I take a moment to breathe I realize that, if I accept the situation as it is and embrace this feeling of being out of balance, being tired and incapable of keeping my calm it will be ok. “After all,” I think. ” Isn’t it like the two people living in the wild accepting nature and it’s vagaries?” And so I sit next to her, I sit and breathe. Clouds of thunder pass my mind but I sit and smile while she talks. I caress her back and stroke her hair, the sun appears. I forgive myself for my impatience.. And she starts playing. Finally we are back in sync.
In all honesty,
ps. I found time to make some pouches as well. Those will be up in my shop soon!