The Weaver
A parable for writers, ghost writers and all creatives
Once upon a time, there was a girl who longed to weave cloth for a living. She had this inner feeling that creating textiles was what the world required her to do. She learned how to spin and to warp a loom. She practised for hours and hours, refining her craft until her arms ached and her fingers blistered and bled.
She enjoyed adding tufts of unspun yarn in tangerine and turquoise or magenta and violet, or mixing shimmering gold thread and crystals together with rough cream wool.
Over the years, she tried all kinds of weaving styles. One week she created sheer and shimmering gossamer-like fabric, which required patience and dexterity. This material was in pale colors with intricate, subtle patterning. Being a colorful and exuberant person by nature this was hard for her. But she knew that there was a big market for this elegant silk. She needed to master weaving this kind of thing if she was to make a living. So she persevered. The delicate work of shaping cloth for gowns and veils did not come easily, but the experience taught her about patience and tenacity. She knew she had to become an expert in all styles and that only came with practice.
