The comforter situation got really bad...
The chronicles of Julia and her good friend Léa
I cover my sofa with a faded green comforter that I got from my mother’s belongings when she died. It’s very simple—two big pieces of fabric that sandwich a paper-thin sheet of batting. It’s stitched to look like it has big quilt squares with vaguely floral patterns inside each section. She probably bought it from Walmart.
My mother’s old comforter is not beautiful. It’s not even sentimental. For me, it’s strictly functional. It keeps Belle’s black fur and dirty paw prints from gathering on the tan tweed of my sofa, a sofa I dearly love and is probably the only piece of furniture I ever paid more than $500 for. It’s ironic that I like my sofa but cover it with a comforter that means nothing to me. Humans are complicated.
I wash this comforter often and once it’s clean, I have a particular way of folding it so that it covers my cushions without hanging too low or too high. I arrange the stitched pattern so that it lies even against the top edge. It’s sofa origami—precise but just as the great origami masters say about their paper, it also reveals my mood. Some days, it’s tidy and fresh. Some days, careless and rushed.
I’m thinking about the comforter these days because last week, my week of summer break, I laid on it a lot. I had a fatigue flare-up.
For four days, I laid on the sofa, vaguely thinking about all the plans I had hoped to do but leaden in my horizontal position. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t get anything done. Sometimes I dozed but mostly, I laid there unable to put two thoughts together.
As dire as that description might sound, in reality it was annoying but not alarming. I’ve had enough fatigue that it’s an old friend by now. There was no surprise that she paid me a visit on my summer break. That’s typical of her—my good friend Léa. She likes to come when I’m planning something else.
So for four days, I laid on my sofa paralyzed by Léa (and hoping she might get up and go somewhere else) and by the end of the week, my faded green comforter was in a state. Crumpled. Wrinkled. Spotted with dirt from Belle and speckled with rice cracker crumbs. It was as disheveled as I felt.
On the fourth day, when the fog started to lift, I sat up and little by little, restarted my normal life. I made dinner. I turned off Netflix. I went through the mail. And in a move that made me feel much better, I washed my comforter and folded it precisely on my sofa. The fatigue had passed. Léa went on her way. And I returned to my normal state.
When I was young, I was a gardener in San Francisco. One of the profound lessons I learned from my time with the plants was how much life chooses life. No matter how poorly plants were planted, how mismanaged their location, their watering, their fertilization, no matter how many pests descended upon them, plants struggled to live through it all. They were defiant. They refused to die if there was any way possible to live.
There is a default toward life and vitality. A bias to finding your way to health despite it all. Nature can’t help herself.
Anyone with chronic health issues can tell you this. Flare-ups come and go but whenever the body has even the slightest chance, it will choose to get off the sofa and refold the comforter.
Who’s with me for comforter origami?
What’s coming in August
Here’s what to expect in July:
The weekly Threshold Podcast with Emily Conway is pausing. Our next episode will be Monday, August 10th.
The August Inner Wisdom Field Guide will arrive in your inbox on Sunday, August 9th. In this issue, you’ll explore your reactions to uncertainty. How do you really feel when you don’t know what’s coming? NOTE: The Inner Wisdom Field Guide is a benefit for paid subscribers.
Threshold Podcast
Emily and I starting again! Our next episode is entitled “Fire Season”. Emily Conway an I will talk about what to do when things are burning up. Between the busy-ness of summer, the tremendous political and cultural upheaval, and the literal forest fires burning in the U.S. and Canada, it’s a lot. How do we continue to live and feel grounded in a world that is too much?
Monday, August 10th at 11:00 CT for all things fire.
To catch up on all the old podcasts, click here.
100%. I also have a beloved sofa protected with a sheet because dogs--and I am regularly visited by Léa"s sister there. ❤️
Oh, Julia! I am glad you have your sofa and the stitch-work comforter for when your fatigue--Léa--comes to visit. I am sorry she chose your week of summer break though. I always say that Lupus is my greatest teacher, and when it flares, I've got something to learn. Sometimes it's the lesson I have attempted to learn many times--slow down--and other times it's something else. But there's always some teaching to absorb if I pay attention. I very much appreciate your lesson from your time with plants: Life is biased to survive, and more, to thrive. Plants are wonderful teachers too. Be easy on yourself as you continue to recover from Léa's visit. Hugs to you!