There is a local thrift store that often has interesting displays of  children's books, or dishware, holiday themed decorations or jewelry. One time they had a contest in which there were twenty items that were not easily recognizable. People were invited to guess their purpose, and whoever got the most right answers won a gift certificate. It was fun to read the outrageous and intriguing suggestions others had come up with. 

 

I have a collection of sewing paraphernalia that would probably flummox most people... a special foot for making uniform button holes, snaggletoothed scissors called pinking shears that discourage raveling, needles as slender as a capillary for slipping through tiny beads.  In the hands of a non sewer, they are curiosities, but for a seamstress they are tools. 

 

There is a short video that talks about inspiration. One of the speakers suggests that when we learn true ideas, they land on our hearts, but as our souls are broken open by pain, the truth falls inside. It is no longer simply a cache of ideas, but becomes the means to rebuilding hope. 

 

My daughter once had an assignment in religion to list differences between men and women. She said it was easy, having heard me talk about these things for years. I am tickled to think that she is savvy about men feeling shame and women feeling fear, boxes vs wires, and husbands being forms of wisdom while women are motivated by love.

 

It is probably easier to collect such notions when they are still hypothetical. But sometimes it isn't until our hearts snap that they tumble inside and come alive.

 

The only way that flowers ever escape from bulbs, is to cleave open.