Carolyn and the Courageous Cushion
Carolyn McAlpine — McA as some of us called her — was the youngest member of the Etobicoke Handweavers and Spinners Guild when she died a decade ago from an aggressive brain cancer. She was 33 years old.
She was the most joyful, fun person I have had the pleasure of spinning yarn with. And if you’ve ever hung out with spinners you’ll know that’s saying a lot — we are a pretty fun-loving bunch if I do say so.
It still breaks my heart when I think of her being gone, but there is something she left behind for which I am deeply grateful. It’s something I have been drawing on a lot lately: her joyful approach to courage.
The other day I was out running some errands when the weather took a kooky turn — fierce wind and swirling snow combined with bright sunshine. There were a few of us out there, suddenly caught up in the sparkly light of snowshine, looking at each other with a little more light and laughter than we had just moments before. Carolyn sprang to mind — it was the kind of beauty from turbulence she had a way of summoning.
She’s been springing to mind a lot these days, perhaps because everything feels kind of swirly and I’m working at staying open to those bursts of light. I am shifting gears in my work, and all around me (and everyone, really) there is so much that is being called into question. Some…
