Quilt Lessons, Part Two

Picture this. There are forty women assembled in this room to spend the morning learning a technique called, "Quilt As You Go." We gather with all our quilting paraphernalia, each having carted along her best sewing machine (quilters tend to have more than one). The temperature outside is 98. The air conditioners are fired up along with the sewing machines and flat irons. Collectively, we are an energy consumption nightmare.

Each of us has her own level of skill and her distinct approach to the quilting process. There are the obsessive-compulsive types who mark, measure, pin, and baste everything; and the rest of us who merely eyeball and stitch. Despite our differences and the fact that we have never met, we are an instant community. We are quilters.

There are many steps in the technique we have come to learn today. Our teacher leads us through them one at a time. We complete each step at differing rates of speed. Small groups crowd around her asking questions.

Suddenly, she stops and addresses the entire assemblage. "Everybody come up here and see what Mary has done." Translation: Mary has goofed, and the teacher is about to turn her blunder into a lesson for the rest of us. "Remember to fold the two bottom layers back before you stitch." And, "Remember the solid line is the sewing line, not the cutting line."

You might think Mary would be crushed. Not at all. She's smiling and taking a bow. That's because tradition here calls for a round of applause for anyone whose mistake benefits the rest of us.

Consider this. What if you got a standing ovation for every mistake you made in life? Suppose it was commonly understood that we owe a debt of gratitude to mistake makers for helping us avoid the same pitfalls. If we thought of our mistakes as a service to humankind, would we stop feeling ashamed of them? Isn't goofing up life's little standard operating procedure?

So thanks, Mary. My hat is off to you. Take another bow.


Copyright 2007 starfishdoc