Pattern Play

Nothing changes if nothing changes.

When I was young, most of our clothes were made by my mother. I remember how she’d purchase a pattern and delicately pin the separate pieces to the fabric for cutting. Then, like magic, she’d sew the separate pieces together until they formed a dress, or shirt, or pair of pants. As we grew, her patterns for basic pieces turned into patterns for elaborate prom dresses and wedding gowns.

I remember one year; I selected a dress from Seventeen Magazine as the one I wanted for the upcoming high school dance. She didn’t have a pattern, so she made one herself. This happened again when I wanted my wedding dress to be a replica of Audrey Hepburn’s gorgeous white gown in My Fair Lady. Again, she couldn’t locate a pattern, so she made her own. The dress turned out stunning, complete with beadwork and careful layering of draped overlays of sheer fabric.

This memory came up recently as I was discussing the concept of patterning with a student. On the surface, yoga appears to be a series of strange postures and repeated shapes, but what we’re really doing is creating new patterns in our bodies. We’re pulling away from familiar ways of moving and breathing in order to generate something new—new ways of seeing, new ways of feeling, new ways of thinking, new ways of healing, and new ways of being. When this happens, we form new neural pathways in the brain, a process called neuroplasticity, which is not only good for your health, but also good for breaking old patterns and creating new outcomes.

This is why traveling to a new place may spark a creative streak or new interest, or why meeting a new friend opens up a world of possibility, or buying a new set of clothes can make you feel like a different person. These little things disrupt old patterns, and when you change your patterns, you change your life (or at least some portion of it). This is, perhaps, why many of us both crave and fear change at the same time…the effects of change, change us.

Usually, we fear the kind of change that sneaks up on us. We don’t want to be unprepared or caught off guard, so sometimes we’ll worry about what may come, as if we could prepare for it, or we resist anything unfamiliar even if what’s familiar is no longer serving us.

Lately, it feels like every single day brings an unexpected change, so as a practice, I’m leaning into change with my own type of pattern play as a way to strengthen my ability to handle it. For me, this looks like very small, bite-sized changes. I’ve added sprints to my morning run; I’ve added a short evening meditation to complement my morning routine; I bought a bright colored skirt, (though I rarely wear color), and I’m listening to new music to modify my mood.

The thing I love about playing with patterns is that it’s different for everyone. If you’re always moving fast, try slowing things down a bit. If you’re always in routine, break it up. If you’re not an outdoor person, try a drive up the canyon or wander a greenhouse. The thing you change doesn’t matter; what matters is that you try something different. Nothing changes if nothing changes, and the kind of change we want is the kind we get to participate in with direction and intention.

When we invite change, we not only break up old patterns, we also become more resilient to the changes that come without our request or permission. As the world transforms, our resilience for change will support us through it.

So, cut a new pattern for your dream and sew it together piece by piece. Then come back and tell me what you’ve created. I can’t wait to see it.

xo,

e.

Hepburn's dress and the one my mother made for me.