"As my Popo used to say, life is a tapestry we weave day by day
with threads of different colors, some heavy and dark, others thin
and bright, all the threads having their uses."
Isabel Allende
The image of life being a tapestry has always pleased my heart. I would be intrigued to sit in a circle of women to listen to the tales of individual weaving. Instead of looking at a blaze of colors and shapes, the tapestry would take on a life subjected to hardship, challenge and gain. The underlying story evokes compassion, deeper understanding of conflict, and the release of judgment.
I am enthused by the prospect of my very own tapestry as I know it would be inconsistent in design, color, and weight of the thread. I would marvel at the beauty in places I remember as being brutal, as the richness of contrasting colors magically forms a sense of pride.
The twisting path winds throughout the artistically woven piece. There are sections where it had been stretched so thin it can barely be seen. Overall, I am moved by tears in appreciation to have moved beyond a survivor and eventually become a woman of peace and love.
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