I remember those moments last December distinctively. I had just bought about 100 oz of Navajo Churro fiber from Hovenweep Sheep and purchased a Schacht Spindle Company Navajo-style lap spindle. I was a little daunted, eyes like saucers, thinking about the task ahead of me. I did not know how to spin with a Navajo-style spindle, nor did I know if I could follow through on spinning 6 pounds of fiber. I threw myself into the deep end of the pool to see if I could swim.
Being raised by a single mom in a forgotten rust belt city, I am no stranger to situations where I am thrown into the deep end, often without any choice. I remember the anxiety I felt at the private liberal arts school I attended in college, knowing that I had to maintain a 3.0 GPA to maintain some $40,000 dollars in student aid. I remember the sadness and fear I faced when my Mom told me I was the man of the house at 16 when my parents got divorced. The question resounding through my life has always been: will I be up to the task? There is a sort of steely nerve one develops as you face down these situations over and over in life. A nerve I applied to this spinning journey.
Day-after-day, I showed up to spin with my spindle. In the beginning, I sat in front of videos of Clara Sherman and Rachel Brown, trying to emulate there motions. I received encouragement and tips from fiber community. My yarn broke over and over again in those early weeks. I stuck with it. 15 minutes here and an hour there, my hands learned the methodical motions necessary to perform the magic of making yarn with this timeless tool. Over time, I found the flow and applied myself to its repetitive rhythm. Soon, I was able to enter the spinning flow, as one finds themselves moving through the seasons. Each step of the process, like the seasons, with its own distinct texture and inertia, passing without effort or intention.
My story, as in all stories, is not all perseverance and resilience; I have learned just as much from failing as I have from succeeding when trying to stay afloat in the deep end. Plowing through difficulty with hard work and plodding steps, as I had in previous scenarios, leaves one vulnerable to moving forward without having ever dealt with the crushing emotions that accompany the deep ends of life. That’s where I found myself in my late 20s with my Mom having passed on from cancer. I couldn’t methodically move on with my life. I was stuck, drowning in the deep end. It was in this moment that I learned I had to sit with and allow the saddness, pain, and difficult of life happen. I couldn’t methodically face down these feelings. I had to become their friend.
With all great journeys, there is a tendency to want to hurry ahead to one’s destination. While spinning this yarn, there were so many times that I wanted to skip to the end where I had completed thousands of yards of perfect single-ply tapestry yarn. There is a deep allusion in this tendency to where I found myself after my mom passed on. In that place, I wanted to skip ahead to being well without rolling around in the muck of grief. How difficult it was also to be imperfect at spinning a daunting amount of fiber with a new tool. I felt myself judging every strand with the critical eye of a mean-spirited teacher, unsure if I would ever be servicable at this craft. Yet, I knew from my experience with my mom’s passing that there was no replacing this stage. I had to sit in this difficult space as I learned.
In the end, I had spun over 2,000 yards of Navajo Churro yarn, but what I had accomplished couldn’t just be captured in a number. Yes, I met the physical challenge of spinning all 6 pounds of that fiber into even, medium weight single ply tapestry yarn. More importantly, I met the spiritual challenge that I didn’t even know accompanied this spinning journey. I learned how to engage in soul and hand craft while allowing myself the space to sit with difficulty and imperfection, frustration and self-judgement. Each day, I found myself slowly unlearning my previous approach to adversity. My steely nerve remained, but it had been deepened by an ability to experience the depth of human emotion that accompanies adversity. Like all spinners, I happened into become more whole through my craft.