My daughter Kate and her partner Tom announced their engagement a few months ago. They are embarking on traditional decision-making made by thirty-somethings: choosing rings, planning a wedding, buying a house. It is all very exciting in an “Age of COVID” kind-of-way. Theirs will be a backyard “microwedding” in August with immediate family, 15 people total. As they plan their wedding, I’m reminded of Simple Gifts, the 1848 Shaker hymn rooted in the belief that love and delight come to those who live intentionally and embrace simplicity.
On the same weekend as Kate and Tom’s engagement announcement, Loretta — my 96-year-old mother — took a serious fall landing in surgery with four fractures of the hip. She is an itty-bitty of a Nana, barely five-feet-tall and weighing less than 100 pounds. It was touch-and-go for a few months. By grace, she made it through surgery and on to recovery, prolonged as it will be. Considering her indefatigable optimism and sharp-as-a-tack memory, only a fool would bet against Mama Lorett.
Joni Mitchell wrote, “We’re captive on the carousel of time…” but it has felt more like a rollercoaster between the highs of planning a daughter’s wedding and the lows of watching the family matriarch in pain while coping with the loss of mobility and independence.
While Mom was in surgery – and my family members were holding vigil and our collective breaths – I could not settle myself. I tried all the conventional strategies – deep breathing on the yoga mat, walking the trail, listening to a calming songlist, praying (more of a conversation than a recitation.) It wasn’t until I sat at my sewing machine and pieced fabric in repetitive blocks that I found some peace. There is something about the tactile nature of textiles while engaged in the process of doing something with fabric that takes my brain to another place, a source of calm and well-being.
The realization that creating art does something positive to the brain does not come as a surprise. After all, I’ve been on the “art-takes-me-to-my-happy-place” bandwagon for years, but I never understood the science behind it. A recent NPR interview with Drexel University Professor Girija Kaimal shed light on the topic. While treating cancer patients and military members suffering from post-traumatic stress, Kaimal’s findings focus on visual self-expression, attention spans and well-being. “Anything that engages your creative mind — the ability to make connections between unrelated things and imagine new ways to communicate — is good for you.” She adds, “This act of imagination is actually an act of survival…preparing us to imagine possibilities and hopefully survive those possibilities.”
While Mom remains in Assisted Living through recovery, she has voiced her strong desire to live independently again. On a recent visit I observed her progress and unyielding spirit. I returned home and was reminded again of the Shaker hymn,
“’Tis the gift to be simple, ‘tis the gift to be free,
“Tis the gift to come down where I ought to be;
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
“Twill be in the valley of love and delight…
…to turn, turn, will be my delight.
‘Til by turning, turning we come round right.”
The NPR article including links to Professor Kaimal’s art therapy research findings can be found here:
