Guiding fabric through a sewing machine is a bit like driving a car. The foot petal is similar, and you have the power to increase or decrease the speed with a change in pressure.
Helping a
novice student understand the dynamic of the needle, can be hard to explain. This week I had a young girl who held on to the fabric as it slid past the needle, as if she could influence the seam from behind. I encouraged her to keep moving her hand to the fabric in front of the needle, where a slight tug can make the seam wider or more narrow. By the time the thread is embedded, it is too late.
But she held on to the fabric anyway, perhaps trying to move the needle's path by another means. Thinking, maybe. Several times I physically lifted her wrist and brought it closer, but when I came back later her old pattern had returned. The seams told the story of falling off the edge completely, or veering deeply into the garment in a way that would have repercussions for actually fitting.
My mind wandered to the wisdom of staying in the present. When I hang on to what happened last week, or five years ago, I relinquish my power to change anything. Focusing on what is occurring now is a place of possibility. I can say things that actually fit, rather than rehash the poorly chosen words from yesterday.
It
requires me to stay current. Replaying old conversations is futile, because those words were already spoken. But each moment a new swath of potential arrives. Which strikes me as a miracle.