The first time I'd read of the power of Red Thread was in The Knitting Goddess by Deborah Bergman (in particular, Chapter 2, Isis, Red Magic and A Warm Stole With Wings). In this chapter, Deborah tells of how she was knitting herself together, knitting the seen and unseen with red thread. Later on down the road in my life, I hear of Madonna and Demi and a host of other famous folk taking up the threads of Kabbalah sporting the red thread on their left wrists. And further yet, I read how Shiloh Sophia was gifted a Ceremony of the Red Thread in her conversation with the Blessed Mother about bonding with a group of women quickly, to facilitate the visionary work at hand.
But these are not my Red Threads. My Red Thread is the one of living and dying, of the chronos and kairos, of divine and sublime. My Red Thread is easily worn either around my neck or my wrist depending on the personal weather. It is not my protection or my connection to others or that which knits me back together. It is my umbilicus to the Mother ~ something a woman needs when her biological mother is absent or emotionally distant, no matter her age. This Red Thread I made is heartbeat and blood and sinew infused with the starstuff of Life. It is the heart worn on my sleeve.
The thread I made ten years ago has become worn. That dedication was made when I was in a different Place and so is also worn. I am now in a new Place and it is simply time to knit a new Red Thread, adding beads both old and new, a random rosary, a prayer for each one all in Rededication to God Hirself and all that it entails.
|My frayed old Red Thread . . .|
|Red Thread in my art journal . . .|
|What knits it together . . .|
|seen and unseen.|
|Red thread strung with beads from the old thread and some new beads waiting to be knit into a sturdy I-cord.|