However, my bead~stringing these days is of the metaphoric kind. I am not crafting jewelry to wear at neck or wrist. My creation is of a different nature entirely: a book that will be coming into the world in less than three weeks. And yet, the analogy not only works, but helps move me into a place of calm when I can't imagine my way through the sheer number of tasks and the dwindling time remaining to accomplish them.
While writing a quality book is no easy thing, publishing that book is of another magnitude entirely. And while this process has been underway for many months, things have intensified now as the home stretch has been entered. In the last two weeks alone, the manuscript has been uploaded, formatting decisions made, several promotional videos posted on social media, an Amazon Author Page designed, and the book sent to a generous cadre of early readers. And in the next few days, additional decisions must be made, categories and keywords settled upon, library events planned, a launch party advertised and hosted, and much more.
And of course, while all this is going on, life doesn't just stand still. Food needs to be bought and cooked, laundry done, relationships nurtured, and my body untethered from my desk chair at regular intervals to be taken out into the fresh air to gaze at vistas that keep perspective intact and spirit enlivened.
Each one of these things is important and valued. Each is a bead, a precious gem waiting to be joined with others in a pleasing way. And to best do that, I need to inhabit a meditative space, focusing attentively on the particular gem before me while never losing awareness of the whole.
When I become overwhelmed, I am swept out of trust and deposited smack dab into fear. I become frantic and begin to weave stories of impossibility. That is my cue to come back to center. To breathe. To trust there is time enough to do what needs doing. In other words, it is my reminder to focus on beadwork. When I do, it all becomes much simpler, much saner. I need only choose the next task from those laid out before me, give that bead all my attention, and string it with care.
Of course, this kind of mindfulness is central to many spiritual traditions, most notably Buddhism. Thom Barnett writes of having received the following instruction from a monk many years ago: "Do one thing at a time, as beautifully as possible." So simple. So grounding. So kind. In the final days before the March 23rd publication of Enchanted, A Tale Of Remembrance, I will try my very best to do exactly that. And the bead~stringing metaphor works well for me, offering a visual that engages as it reminds.
The stones are arrayed before me, each one integral to the evolving whole. I sense which is next in the overall design, reach out, take it in my hand. I bring myself wholly to it, do as it asks. I then add it to the others on the string, hear them speak to one another. Only then do I seek the next bead.
This morning has been gem~filled. A walk at dawn was followed by the beads of meditation and breakfast. Stretching out with my husband on the couch for a few minutes came next. Then I reviewed my master to~do list, emailed early readers, and began this column.
The inner workings of psyche and soul are beads as well. When anticipatory anxiety reared its head, I was able to recognize it as another bead and attend to it rather than brush it away. Heart and soul in sync again, I then planned my next video.
I don't know what your own beads look like. I cannot see them spread out before you or know what you are creating from them. And yet I do know that attending to one stone at a time, discovering the beauty it holds, and finding a pleasing way to add it to your own creation is the way to go.
It is, after all, the best and kindest way to create a necklace, a book, a home, a viable work experience, and a loving relationship. In other words, it's an excellent way to create a rich and vibrant human life. Happy and beautiful bead~stringing, my friend.
💜
Leia
