The difference

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Lately I’ve been waking about two hours earlier than I typically do. Willingly. On purpose.

To sew.

Saying I’m working on meeting  a deadline for a wholesale order betrays the joy I find in rising in the darkness, making my way quietly to the sewing room, turning on the lights in least-bright order until the room glows warmly, ready.

First (half) cup of coffee will come later. The radio station that accompanies me on weekend mornings (“the quiet sounds of Sleepy Hollow” with John Diliberto on WXPN) waits silently; I want only the musical whir from the trio of instruments I use in concert for the production at hand.

And as the break of day eases up from the city below, peeking over the edge of the hill to slowly cast light on the park across the street, I take a minute to appreciate it. To appreciate that this is my view as day begins:

view from the sewing room

Appreciate that my work is so enjoyable to me it feels like play (an objective I set for myself). Specifically, in this month of gratitude (although always, really), for this I am thankful.

Being thankful, aware of one’s blessings, is important, I think. But it’s also not enough.

I sit in my  comfortable home, mindful of  those – the women, men, and children – who awake in the darkness to work in less than desirable conditions. Those who do not have the benefit of a view that inspires them or the luxury of expecting playfulness in their work are the ones making so much of what we use. 

Supporting fair trade enterprises, identifying and eschewing companies who exploit workers, encouraging others to recognize and appreciate the value of practical and creative reuse is, admittedly, a minor effort but perhaps it’s a start.

  

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2 responses »

  1. Ah, my dear, wondering happily at your creativity. Loving how you’re loving your life! And can’t wait to see the fruits of your labor! Work, the sweetest thing in the world, when it’s your work.

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