sparkignitefire

Some of you know my background/back-story as an Interior Designer in Chicago. This period of my life-13 years, was focused and for the most part really fun. I can say that now, as it was solely centered on one thing…..me. I got back from grad school in London in 1996 and had the overwhelming urge to have/start something of my own. In no way did I know what that was. Making slip-covers for furniture fell into my lap and I ran with it. Now let’s call a spade a spade. I was a terrible sewer and had not once cut out a pattern. This did not matter to me and it was not going to stop me. The part I realized early on was if you persisted, you would get better and that I coud make a living doing this. So when a client asked me if I could help with this or that, you know what I ALWAYS said…..yes.

In those lean five years early into it, creativity was king. This meant for everything….work, food, rent, dating and slowly I built up a great business and could quit my “real” job. Through this time, it showed itself that I could not do this alone, so I started seeking out people smarter than me to help me and answer the million questions I had.

You know that my father died. It was June of 1995 and I flew back from the UK to attend the funeral and spend time with my sister. It was at that point that I realized my life was on track for spinning out of control. The man I was dating was not right for me, I was 40+ lbs over weight, smoking and gin was a dear friend. When I returned to school, the work that came out of me was intense and beautiful. Life was not changing and I was sinking further into myself. Then…. (trumpets blasting) my friend Sally called and asked me to climb Kilimanjaro with her for her fortieth birthday. My stock answer…..yes. Yes and then find a way.

Back up and remember, I was 40+ lbs overweight and tragically out of shape. All I knew was that I needed that mountain (it is actually a volcano, but who is keeping track) now, in my life. I needed that physical struggle to outweigh the struggle with my mental state. I needed to become whole again. It was that time again in Tanzania with one of the most beautiful places on earth that I found my voice again. When it got hard, I cried and kept climbing. When it got harder, I cried and kept climbing. I told strange men paid to be our keepers for those 10 days about my father. Those strangers became friends and they let us use the mountain as a place to mend.

It was that return to the earth that put my father’s quick exit in its proper place. It was then I realized life was bigger and had a lot for me to do.

I found my mettle. I returned to Chicago and started sewing.

So you see a pattern. Fat-out of sync…Healthy….I learned something/accepted something/released something….found the earth again.

David was my passage to the earth in college. Sally was the catalyst back to the earth in grad school and it stayed with me for almost 12 years. In those years I got to climb more incredible mountains, and persist in a sport I loved. This is where I met the 2nd man to remind me of the trees, the dirt and to love the riddles the earth gave us to solve.

A quick tangent about him.

We were in a jungle in Borneo, day 6 of a ten-day race and in this section we were hiking. I use ‘hiking’ loosely as it was 100+ degrees/99%+ humidity in a part of the jungle that no one had been through in over 200 years. Borneo is a special place. So off the grid it seemed like another planet. We did not know how it would take a toll on our fragile bodies. Day 6 was after three days paddling in an indigenous built boat in open ocean, two days of mountain biking…all of this mind you with no Holiday Inn or shower at the end of the day. Fast forward to our jungle trek and my feet are….he said it best….like a ‘dead person’s feet’ and we had to get out of that jungle. You know when you have someone who has built a condo in your heart when every twenty minutes they stop walking, wait for your sorry/slow ass to hobble up, give me some of our precious water (he was carrying my pack too) and an electrolyte tablet. Then do that over and over and over for 16 hours. This was grounding, humbling and part of that love for my earth.

For me, it was/it is the closeness with dirt, the trees, the smells and sounds of nature. For you, it could be a runway show, an airplane museum, or the solitude of the library. Finding that love is a mission.

Then slowly, almost silently….stealth-like I lost my way again. The weight started creeping on, the bike gathered more dust and the world got very small.

I could not see the train wreck that was on the horizon.