Well, there it is: the loom. We brought it from Saskatoon, set it up in our bedroom, and watched it gather dust, until now!

Over the past couple of days, my wonderful and mystical Aunt Jacquee sojourned with us and shared her years of craft-wisdom with myself and our good neighbour Judy. Jacquee worked with us for a goodly number of hours as we wound warp, dressed the loom, and began to weave. What an adventure!

For decades, I’ve been fascinated with weaving, ever since I read a passage in The Book of Three which described one of the heroes weave together some blades of grass, while simultaneously enchanting it to become a magic net. I’m not sure why, but the image stayed with me, and the language of “warp and weft” grew into a powerful metaphor for something big and mysterious in life. Something Spirit-woven.

I encountered this type of weaving imagery again more recently, in my studies of Anglo-Saxon neo-paganism. Within this ancient runic mythology, the “Web of Wyrd” is like a spiritual energy field (akin to the Force of StarWars, or Indra’s Net of Hindu cosmology) which binds the universe together, and interweaves the fabric of space and time. Though not identical to the Holy Spirit of Christian theology, I imagine the Web of Wyrd to be woven by Sophia (Lady Wisdom) as the underlying matrix of the emergent Creation.

Meanwhile, back in my bedroom, I sit at the loom and celebrate my recent initiation into its mysteries, tentatively shuttling the weft back and forth between the sheds of the cotton warp. True, I’m only weaving dishtowels rather than galaxies, but the whole thing feels cosmic just the same!

Thanks Aunty Jacquee, for passing on your loom and your craft. Weave on!

– Shawn