Jessica: Reading from the novel Letters to Lelia

Landing Bay, Terra Two, July 25th, 3245

Beloved,

None of us has the privilege to design our lives exactly the way we want them to be, and this may actually be a blessing, because we would make them a lot less extraordinary than they have the potential to become. That doesn't mean, however, that you leave it up to chance whether you want something or not, whether you create something or not, whether you love someone or not. Your existence itself is a beautiful work of art, work that takes a lifetime to complete.

You are not given all the resources from the beginning, you have to start with what you have, to improvise, to envision possibilities, to look for the bigger picture. Some people are absolute masters at this, and no matter what life throws at them they never miss that larger canvas of their meaning, their goals are not removed from their consciousness for even one second, and they always find ways to improve upon their life's work, even when their circumstances change.

Most of us stumble upon our purpose later in life, but you have to have one if you want your time here to make sense. Imagine trying to make a cake by adding random ingredients into the mix, just because you have them: there isn't a single chance of it coming out edible. Your life works the same way, you have a cupboard full of ingredients and you have to select the ones that aid you in your purpose in order to make it happen.

The real art begins later, when after knowing what the ingredients are, you refine their quantities, the timing, the quality, with higher an higher standards of excellence, until the results become extraordinary. With craftsmanship comes enthusiasm, with enthusiasm mastery, with mastery a legacy to future generations.

Nobody can give you the recipe book, unfortunately, because every one of our lives is unique, so you have to create one for yourself, according to your talents, your wherewithal and your circumstances. I can only assure you of one thing: every being has a light to bring to the world, and the responsibility to do so, even if it takes a lifetime.

Let me tell you a story.

My grandmother was born to hardship, she didn't have a hope to get an education; life on the farm where she grew up was tough and everyone was expected to put in as much physical labor as possible to get sufficient yield to feed so many mouths.

For years she didn't make any plans for her future, which seemed to be doomed to hardship until her last breath. Despite this, her heart wasn't burdened, because every day when she went into the fields she was mesmerized by the gold of the wheat swaying in the wind, and the rosy radiance of the sky at sunrise, the glow of the poppies in the afternoon light, the green of the trees and the gray of the mountains in the distance.

She was so immersed in this landscape that she often couldn't tear herself apart from the pulse of life that surrounded her. The days were long and rough, but she was growing stronger every day, as the spirit of the earth got fused into her palms with the dirt she was toiling.

She learned to see the essence behind mundane things, the richness of color, endless color that God poured in abundance on the land. She discovered almost by accident that some of the plants were gracious enough to lend their colors to the people cultivating them: the turmeric yellows, the plantain roots greens, the onion skins brown, the madder red, the hollyhock purple, the indigo blue, the sumac black.

She tried dyeing fibers one day, just to see what they'd look like, at first, and because the colors turned out beautiful, she made more. She wanted to show this beauty to the world, so she took a few spools of cotton that were meant for blanket weaving and used her new found skills to turn them into beautiful pastels of sunny yellow and heather gray, with blends of madder red and hints of hyacinth purple.

Her hands wove magic when she blended those colors in ways that enchanted her family and neighbors and earned her a reputation as a master weaver in five different counties. People started coming from afar, to ask her to make things for them, a quilt, a jacket, a decorative carpet.

At first she didn't think she'd find the time, but as her reputation grew it became clearer to everyone that the family blessed with these magical hands would thrive beyond any expectations.

Her designs were laborious, and she soon realized she'd need some help around the shop, apprentices, if you will, to keep the supply of materials well stocked for her products. She picked a few of the youngsters from the village for the task, an eager group, all energy and fire, who worked tirelessly to learn the craft and keep her happy with the works of their hands. A few of them advanced quickly, and got a chance to turn the skill of their fingers into amazing works of art.

The word spread even further about this little shop in the village, and the masterful artwork that came out of it, and orders started coming from abroad, bringing the works of her hands farther that she ever thought possible.

People were mesmerized, not as much with the craftsmanship of her works, which in itself was exquisite, but with the spirit that shone through each of the pieces. Her artwork came alive, there was this unexpected quality about it that didn't allow people to avert their eyes, it drew them near, it made them think, and dream, and wonder.

She captured the soul of her beloved land in her tapestries, the colors of her youth, her memories, her love for her family, her ambitions, her marvelous skill. She depicted the animals of the wild, the contours of the mountains, the depth of the sky, her deep spiritual communion with the world, her love and appreciation for the fibers themselves with which she wove her visual story for the world to see.

Maybe under different circumstances she would have lived her life another way, and maybe her extraordinary skill would never have been revealed. Or maybe she would have found another way to bring it into the world, we'll never know.

In the circumstances she was given she wove the tapestry of her life with the colors her native land gave her and the talents God bestowed on her hands, and in this way she gave her life meaning and left behind her works to beautify the world long after she'd gone. Nobody told her what to do, or how to do it, this is how the gift works in people's lives, she instinctively knew this was her path to follow, and expressed her talent where she found herself to be, simply, quietly and without doubting.

My grandmother worked her entire life in that shop, creating one masterpiece after another, ever more discerning about colors, ever more educated about the chemical processes, ever more skillful about the craft. At the age of ninety seven she was still weaving, and created one of her most famous masterpieces, "The sunrise", which you can see at the Museum of Applied Arts in Bangalore, if you ever find yourself back on Earth.

I took one of her quilts with me when I came here. We couldn't bring much to Terra Two, because the space was so limited, but I wouldn't leave Earth without that quilt my grandmother made. Every time I think a task is impossible to accomplish, I look at that quilt and reconsider.

You might be familiar with The Weavery, whose reputation no longer needs explaining, as it is often the case with extraordinary human achievements, but I'm sure you didn't know that it was a little peasant girl with no education or prospects for the future who made it happen. This is my grandmother's legacy, and I am proud to present it to you in the hope that you will also find the spark that lights your purpose and brings the best there is in you and all your talents.

There are no real barriers to achievement, my beloved child, who can put barriers on the light God gave you to shine into this world?

May your life be fulfilled a thousand fold, and may the Lord keep you in happiness and peace! In our culture it is a custom to offer a blessing at the beginning of one's life's journey, and I am honored to present you with mine.

God is love. You are love. Be happy!

Sister Benedict

Thank you for reading.

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