As part of my goal to feature a title each month by a person of color, I just wrapped up Woman of Color, by LaTonya Yvette.
Part of me is embarrassed to feature this book – not because it wasn’t beautiful and well written. Instead, it’s because, even though Yvette doesn’t say so, I don’t completely feel like this book was for me, because while I’m a sister in womanhood, but I’m not a Sister.
It’s a theme, not feeling like I belong. It has everything to do with me and my own insecurities.
In that regard, this was the perfect book to read.
It was late in the day and I had just given myself permission not to do an evening meditation when Three knocked at my door.
She asked if we could do a meditation together.
This past spring, I posted about our forlorn backyard. The space was characterized by packed dirt and scattered scrap metal. It was well into spring, I thought. I was sure that was as good as it got.
It took me so long to read this book that some of the photos I included in this post are from April, almost two months after I started reading the book.
I finished it at the end of July.
How good could it be if it took me so long to read?
Well, I was savoring it.
This weekend I’m going to a mindful mending retreat. Between spasms of social anxiety, I’m looking forward to it.
Really, mindful mending is something I’ve been doing all summer.
At first, my stitches were really uneven. I stabbed myself with my needle regularly. My sewing is still nothing like the perfect stretches of straight, even stitches that you’ll see if you search online for sashiko stitching, but it has also noticeably improved since I started.
