Cross-Stitch in Recovery
It’s been a while, and a lot has happened...well, depending on how you look at it, it might be better to say that a lot hasn’t happened, and the circumstances of the world are still confusing, so quick update on my situation -- In January of 2020, I got married, and I’ve been stuck away from my home ever since.
What happened was, Anna -- the Russian woman who married me -- and I were living and working in China but we decided to get married in Thailand. Now we did this for a bunch of reasons...legal reasons concerning marriageability applications...for a way to bring our families together (her family is from Russia and mine from the States)...because the idea of a beach wedding in Thailand...need I say more?
What we didn’t realize was that there would be a novel of drama tied into the difficulties of an international marriage...turns out all you need is love, and a lot of confusing paperwork. I choose the words “a novel of drama” because I’m currently starting to work on that novel. It’ll be funny and I hope to finish in a year (more or less), so keep tuned. But in short, the wedding was beautiful -- we got married in a spectacularly untraditional ceremony of kazoos playing the wedding march and bubble guns decorating Anna’s walk down the beach sand aisle to the altar where we could exchange bilingual vows of love and commitment to each other with soft ocean waves splashing behind us. The calming, causal splendor of our ceremony far surpassed any dream of matrimonial perfection my mind had previously fantasized.
And the plan was to then return to China and continue our teaching jobs -- but the date was January 29th of 2020, and we got a message from our school that we should stay away because some people were getting sick in China. We in no way anticipated what that sickness would become.
I won’t expand on the long journey that has occurred since then -- as I said, there will be a book completed after this journey comes to some conclusion -- but you need to know that currently I’m in Thailand where I’m safe, but a sufficient quantity of the vaccine still hasn’t arrived so I’m still unvaccinated and mildly terrified. I have been kept out of China now for nearly twenty months, and Anna, who was able to return in November of 2020 (we thought I would be able to join soon after), and I have been separated for nearly 9 months. I’m alone, and stuck in a small apartment with my human contact limited to a daily video chat with my wife and trips to the grocery store.
It is terrible, but I won’t harp on these emotions here, because that’s not the focus of this article.
This article is about cross-stitching...Hold on, we’re getting there.
I provide you with this context so you can understand the situation, and because these circumstances -- being trapped in situation that you hope gets better but there are no guarantees and the very real possibility exists that things might get worse -- a situation where you have deep support from dozens, if not hundreds of people, but there is markedly little they can do to provide any conclusive remedy, and the cries of, “Hang in there, stay strong, you got this!” feel empty after a time -- a time of endless waiting in a room while life is happening and the world seems to move on, but you are stuck doing the same damn thing for an infinity, praying for any slight change that means life can return to some semblance of normalcy -- with these sort of circumstances, let’s just say that flashbacks to my time in early recovery have been relatively frequent. And in both situations, the necessity is the same -- to push through. I am alive, and things are moving forward, though watching the tempo of this progress often seems to be on par with watching grass grow. Regardless, while stuck in this limbo, I needed to find a way to pass the time, and that’s where cross-stitching comes in.
Now I have tried many methods of letting time slip by -- Netflix, video games, reading, writing, anything that doesn’t involve other people -- and all these work, to a point, but I have found that I can only take so much of any one of these activities without feeling anxious. Then I found cross-stitching. How I found it isn’t important for this article -- it may be in the book -- but I write about it here as a suggestion for those who have lived through BI and are trying to find a way to move through the seemingly never ending waiting that is part of recovery.
If you don’t know, cross-stitching usually involves following a pattern that shows you how to draw a picture using thread by making thousands of tiny, miniscule X’s on a sheet aida fabric using colored thread. It is an agonizingly slow process, but it is not particularly complicated and is always moving forward...bit by bit...just a few steps every day...but always getting just a little better. For me, the positive parallels with recovery seem almost too obvious.
I emphasize positive, because something is always being done, even if it might not seem like it, and you’re working toward creating a piece that is nice...it’s pretty. Notice I don’t say amazing, or stunning, or exquisite, because while this might be possible with the artform, I’ve never seen a cross stitching piece that has inspired a particularly strong emotion. What’s more, if you are new to the art and following a pattern (as I am), your piece won’t look right hanging in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But that doesn’t matter. It’s pretty, maybe even beautiful, but most importantly it’s fulfilling because you are making it.
What’s more, I think the work can be a great metaphor for recovery, because the part that’s seen by most people -- the picture you create -- is simple and pleasant, but then if you turn the work around and see what’s behind the process, the mash of threads and knots and tangles is ugly, though it represents the work you put into the piece, the part that is not seen by most. Again, I see it as similar to recovery.
And of course there are the many additional physical and cognitive rehabilitation benefits that I’m sure come from cross-stitching -- improving small movements, dexterity of the fingers, following a pattern, and I’m sure there are many more -- though I admit that I have not done the research to verify this speculation. Yet what has stood out in my awareness is how calming the simple repetition movements are.
Again. Always moving forward. Letting the fear of time pass. Creating what looks simple and can be made by following simple steps but is tied together through a tangle of actions. It has become a meditation.
Cross-stitching is my suggestion to you, and if cross-stitching isn’t your thing, perhaps there’s another sort of craft you enjoy, or a different activity. But find something other than zoning out with a video or computer activity. Mind, digital/video activities are not bad, and should be used sometimes, but if used too much I believe there is no stimulation on the brain and no stimulation does not assist recovery. Creating something simple encourages the mind to stay awake, and simple activities help to get neurons firing and encourage healing after brain injury.
These are my thoughts, however, if there is counter evidence to the benefits I anticipate, I will be greatly surprised, but will appreciate learning about my mistake. But I highly doubt I am mistaken. And I know that the meditative effect is real for me, so I do encourage you to give it a try. Pop on some music, get comfortable, and stitch to the progression of time and recovery.
Thank you for reading my thoughts. Now that this new website is up, I’m going to try and be more regular with my blog writing. I’m involved in some really exciting new research that I hope to share with you, but other than that, I’m still waiting to return to my day job in China, and more importantly, my wife. But until then, I’m still working on this cross-stitch pattern.
