LJ Idol home game--Blankets
Feb. 6th, 2009 10:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dezaWhen I was a little girl, one of my favorite things to do was to take my blankie downstairs on a Saturday morning, cocoon myself with a clear view of the tv and watch cartoons. I actually had two blankies for this. My summer blankie was a pink and white stripe polyester fabric bounded by a blanket trim. My winter blankie was a huge felt-batted comforter with blue, yellow, red and green gingham flowers printed on it. Don't look at me like that--it was the 70s, and we were short on taste then.
The blankie was the key part of my Saturday mornings. It didn't matter what was on the screen (although dancing animated figures were preferred) as long as I had my blankie wrapped around me, keeping me safe and snug. The blankie was my barrier to the real world. Cloaked in my fabric shield I could indulge myself in all the make-believe fantasies I wanted. Whenever I felt overwhelmed by life I would wrap up in my blankie and retreat from the world.
I was a teenager the first time a friend told me she was feeling what other people were feeling and asked for help. I knew what she was going through. I've always had the same problem, but I'd learned how to wall it off enough that I could walk down a school hallway without feeling 13,491,095 different emotions. She was just starting to experience this and had no idea how to deal with it. I wrestled with how to help her for days, until Saturday morning.
Saturday morning, when I enveloped myself in my blankie and blocked out the rest of the world.
"Picture a quilt," I told her. "A deep, thick, quilt, the kind you can sink into. Think about how warm it is, how the fabric feels under your fingers. Think about the colors, the patterns, the way they make you feel safe and warm and loved."
Eyes closed, she nodded.
"Now, wrap that quilt around yourself. Pull it tight across your shoulders. Flip a corner up over your head. Hold to yourself. All the feelings that aren't yours, that you don't want to feel, they're going o just bounce off the outside of your quilt. If you want to feel something, you can stick your head out while the rest of you is wrapped up, and you'll just feel it a little bit instead of all over."
She was crying by the time we were done practicing together, going through the quilt visualization, pulling it on and taking it off and working with it until it was always there. The key to making the magic work was to make that quilt in her mind's eye as real as any on her bed. I could see her relaxing under her imagined quilt, relieved to be feeling her own feelings and no one else's for a change.
Now it's my kids wrapped in their blankies in front of the tv, watching cartoons. They're starting to learn about the other quilts, the ones that will keep them safe and snug out in the world.
The blankie was the key part of my Saturday mornings. It didn't matter what was on the screen (although dancing animated figures were preferred) as long as I had my blankie wrapped around me, keeping me safe and snug. The blankie was my barrier to the real world. Cloaked in my fabric shield I could indulge myself in all the make-believe fantasies I wanted. Whenever I felt overwhelmed by life I would wrap up in my blankie and retreat from the world.
I was a teenager the first time a friend told me she was feeling what other people were feeling and asked for help. I knew what she was going through. I've always had the same problem, but I'd learned how to wall it off enough that I could walk down a school hallway without feeling 13,491,095 different emotions. She was just starting to experience this and had no idea how to deal with it. I wrestled with how to help her for days, until Saturday morning.
Saturday morning, when I enveloped myself in my blankie and blocked out the rest of the world.
"Picture a quilt," I told her. "A deep, thick, quilt, the kind you can sink into. Think about how warm it is, how the fabric feels under your fingers. Think about the colors, the patterns, the way they make you feel safe and warm and loved."
Eyes closed, she nodded.
"Now, wrap that quilt around yourself. Pull it tight across your shoulders. Flip a corner up over your head. Hold to yourself. All the feelings that aren't yours, that you don't want to feel, they're going o just bounce off the outside of your quilt. If you want to feel something, you can stick your head out while the rest of you is wrapped up, and you'll just feel it a little bit instead of all over."
She was crying by the time we were done practicing together, going through the quilt visualization, pulling it on and taking it off and working with it until it was always there. The key to making the magic work was to make that quilt in her mind's eye as real as any on her bed. I could see her relaxing under her imagined quilt, relieved to be feeling her own feelings and no one else's for a change.
Now it's my kids wrapped in their blankies in front of the tv, watching cartoons. They're starting to learn about the other quilts, the ones that will keep them safe and snug out in the world.
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-06 04:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-06 07:35 pm (UTC)I will have to try to do that visualization in careful detail next time I can spare the mental energy.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-07 04:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-08 01:31 am (UTC)