On Embroidery and...Vulnerability?

This little embroidery kit taught me a lesson on vulnerability this morning.

A few months ago I asked Twitter what their hobbies at home were because I wanted something else to do besides reading and writing. I got hundreds of great responses (that have since come in handy thanks to quarantine). The first two things I tried were puzzling and sketching. I quickly found out I was really bad at both and gave up after about a week. Unlike Taylor, I don’t tend to learn new things. Instead, I like to do one thing and do it really, really well—I like to be the kind of person that becomes an expert in their craft. I’ve never really seen this as a negative thing until, well, last night when I tried my hand at embroidery. Several Twitter folk recommended it and it looked like the perfect thing to pick up as it reminded me of my days growing up, sitting next to Abuela as she sewed everything from Halloween costumes to wedding dresses. Watching her create entire worlds with her fingers amazed me, and even as a small kid, I think it did something to me spiritually. 

Anyway, I sat on the couch last night and Youtubed “beginner embroidery.” It seemed easy enough. However, ten minutes in and I found myself exasperated trying to get the fabric in that circle thing and trying to untangle the string I was using that had already begun to knot. I looked at Taylor and said, “I don’t know why I bought this. This is annoying.” He laughed (and as an expert new-hobby-starter) looked at me and said, “just give it shot. Don’t give up yet.”

I gave it about two more minutes and then decided I’d try again tomorrow (without any intention of really trying again tomorrow).

Well, it’s tomorrow.

And after grabbing my coffee to sit outside and read before a work meeting, I stumbled upon an excerpt by Brene Brown in which she referenced Theodore Roosevelt’s Daring Greatly speech: “the credit belongs to the [person]…who strives valiantly, who errs, who comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming.” Brene then talked about how this is the bedrock of vulnerability: understanding the necessity of victory and defeat and engaging both, being all in.

As silly as it sounds, I immediately side-eyed my beginner embroidery kit. I think it was trying to make me realize that the only reason I didn’t like it (or puzzling or sketching) is because I have to stumble passed being really bad at it for a good, long while before I can be good at it. And who wants to be bad at anything? I hate failing, but it’s less about failing and more about how hard it is for me to be vulnerable.

Vulnerability sucks and it’s painful and it makes me feel really, really uncomfortable.

WHEW.

Anyway, this is clearly not about embroidery. However, I got some stuff to sit with today—including my embroidery kit—and some spiritual lessons I need to learn as I work toward getting the string unknotted and into a pretty, little flower display. Because a lot of life and faith is about sitting in the tension and unknotting the knots in order to make beauty out of random pieces of thread—and that process? It takes a whole lot of vulnerability.