The Crazy Quilt of Life

When I was a little girl, my mother began a collection of antique "Crazy Quilts". She would find them in antique stores or from dealers. Some of these were beginning to fray. Others were never fully completed. A few used lush fabrics, like silk and velvet. But many more used bits and pieces of cloth that just came out of everyday use....a bit of a tie that had a spot on it, a scrap from a favorite outgrown dress, a triangle from a much loved baby blanket.



I never used to tired of playing with the quilts. I loved the randomness. I loved that they weren't perfect in the way a log cabin quilt is symmetrical, but that they created something much more magical. I imagined what each bit of fabric came from and wished I knew the stories each square told. Although my mom also began collecting beautiful quilts that were traditional patterns, the crazy quilts, to this day, remain my favorites, and I'm fortunate that she gave many of them to keep.



I need to take a step back and let my readers know that I can't quilt myself. I can barely even sew a straight line. When I went to a sewing class at a local shop, I brought in a quilt piece I'd been piecing together, for fun, and was asked by a well meaning older woman if my 'little girl' had had fun working on that. I swallowed my pride and told her that I was the little girl. She gave me an appraising look up and down, sighed a bit (thinking, 'Oh, no, not another wanna-be') and helped me with my square. I never got beyond that one square, and it sits in my jewelry box. Folded. But, glaring at me for my failure.



I do think, however, that this failed attempt at quilting helped me to realize how truly difficult it is, as well as what an apt metaphor for life quilts can be. Life, like a crazy quilt, can be beautiful, perplexing, and frustrating. I realize this is neither an original thought nor an original idea for a piece of writing. But, I do believe that beauty exists in randomness. In the Judeo-Christian tradition I believe, we see this as the hand of God's in the midst of human suffering. In Eastern traditions, they might see this as the wheel of creation, turning round and round, creating something new each time.


When the back pulled away from one of the quilts my mom gave me, I was determined not to send it to her to fix, but to 'do it right' myself. It wasn't easy. I had to painstakingly remove the rest of the backing, gently pull away old batting that had matted--without ruining the delicate fabric on the front--and then sew a new back on. I hoped that even I, with my Pre-Kindergarten stitches, could manage it. I What I saw, when I removed the back was something marvelous: a complete sense of disorder on the backside. On the underside of the quilt, the stitches were a mess. There were knots, and different kinds of threads. While a crazy quilt does not imply any sort of pattern, I'd just assumed the back would be tidy. It was an honest relief to me to see it wasn't. I felt redeemed ! I knew I could work on this...that it wasn't perfection that was the goal, but love for the project. I did manage to sew a simple running stitch and put the new back on.


In Yoga, people often are nervous to come to class the first time because they're worried they won't be perfect. They're afraid they won't understand the asanas, or will fall over or will just make a fool of themselves. But, when I look out into a class I'm teaching, I see Yogis who have been practicing decades longer than I have alongside beginners, helping them. I see Triatheles coming in for cross training next to grandmothers who want to become more flexible. What I see, in short, is a beautiful crazy quilt in its randomness. No one is perfect, and no one expects me to be perfect either. But, we can all appreciate the beauty along the way.