Paradisaea #15 // The She Walks Like a Queen Collection
Warp: 100 % tencel, hand dyed by Paradisaea
Weft: 100 % EC cotton, hand dyed by Paradisaea
Woven with a Maltese Twill variation (a fancy twill)
Size 6 (470 x 73 cm)
More pictures and thoughts of the warp here
Who is this that appears like the dawn,
fair as the moon, bright as the sun,
majestic as the stars in procession?
(Song of Songs 6, NIV)
There’s no one like her on earth,
never has been, never will be.
She’s a woman beyond compare.
Has anyone ever seen anything like this—
dawn-fresh, moon-lovely, sun-radiant,
ravishing as the night sky with its galaxies of stars?
(Song of Songs 6, MSG)
How easy it is to forget yourself. To become just a mom; someone who hardly remembers to brush her hair. And it’s just okay. How gracious it is to be able to be just a mom. To not have to even brush your hair.
But no, wait - it’s an oxymoron. It’s not possible to be "just a mom". A mom is never "just" something.
Think of it. You are one of a kind, unique. There is no-one else who is what you are, who you are...
They are born. The first thing they know, lying on your chest, is your heartbeat: the same they have known for nine months. Your hands, the touch of your scared and awed fingers, is their first experience of an another being apart from themselves. You emanate warmth, and when you carefully lift them up and hide them under your shirt, next to your skin, they calm down in the immediate closeness of your being. You are so soft and warm and radiate life to them - they need not fear.
Imagine how a baby feels when she falls asleep in your arms. Or while nursing. It must be like heaven. And the source of that heaven? You. The baby fully content, body and mind, a picture of total surrender. No need to fear. Just because you’re there.
In short: you are the world to them. And you are the barrier between them and the world. You are a lifegiver, the beginning of all life, you are the whole known world for them in the first most important months. There’s no just mom there. In all the following years you still are the one and only Mom.
“Mother” is such a beautiful word. A mother is such a beautiful thing.
We are not always what we hope we would be. Failure creeps close in all fronts, we set so high standards we cannot meet them even ourselves. And still - we are The Mom, the one and only, beautiful in the eyes of our children - the ones we love so much it aches.
If only every mother knew this.
I’ve known for a long time that I’d love to weave a wrap that would speak of the indisputable importance of a mother - of how she is magnificient just because she exists. Every mother is a Queen Mother, the center of one universe, a radiant sun making life possible for her children, an Empress of her empire. This stands true in all days, even when we fall short in our own eyes and when we doubt ourselves. We’re still The Mom, the only one they ever had. Irreplaceable, utterly significant, utterly loved, just because we exist.
There’s something stunningly… eternal about motherhood. Something that’s always bigger than us, and still the very process of becoming a mother makes us bigger than ourselves. We grow, they force us to grow, and that’s beautiful. This thing is royal. Moms are often frowned upon; society has it’s own conflicted opinions about motherhood and often it feels a mom cannot do anything right - there’s always someone saying she has blown it.
If only a mother knew that the truth is that she’s royal. What she does is beyond measure; it’s worth cannot be calculated. It’s royal.
So, I’ve been thinking of a royal mother. I see her as someone straight and firm; freshness in her voice, strength in her eyes, gentleness in her hands. Someone beautiful in herself; with a face and countenance that commands attention. Someone one of a kind, radiant, beyond compare. Red for the love and for the bleeding heart, yellow for the laughters that burst out unexpected - and for the crown she has even though she has no idea. Pink for the girl in her. And the darker shades for the battles she fights against herself and against everyone else; against fatigue, exhaustion, fear, confusion, anxiety. The weft is hand dyed EC cotton in shades of purple, blue and violet; imperial purple and royal blue, the kingly colours.
I don’t always feel royal. Maybe you do neither. And still we have it in us, glimpses of the gentle Queen.
See, it’s not about our feelings - just ask your kids.
"There’s no one like her on earth,
never has been, never will be.
She’s a woman beyond compare."