Patchwork Bullpen

Earl Weaver: "You can't worry if it's raining. You just got to play baseball."

The common “thread” of today’s post is quilting (patchwork bullpen, Earl Weaver) and a concept I dreamed up this month on how a quilt (albeit an ugly quilt) could be used as a metaphor for life. 

Imagine a quilt, with each block having a ripped hole in its center. This is like us. We are each a block, sewn together in one quilt through society. Our block’s edges touch the world on all sides, we cannot escape its influence. Feeling stuck and ripped open, we look to grow outwards and sew shut the gaping wound. As we expand beyond our block it requires us to take from other blocks, making ourselves bigger by making others smaller. In many cases causing a chain reaction outwards; a battle for dominance and territory on the quilt. Even if we, instead, redesigned our block with patchwork that we believe is uniquely our style, we’d find, if we could step back and look upon the quilt, our patches would be simply a mirror of other blocks that are close by. In this greater view, their influence upon us would be revealed as a type of unconscious control. More than anything we are embarrassed of our ripped fabric, we see it as a deformity that must be sewn together with patchwork for us to be whole and perfect. But it is, in fact, the only feature of our block that makes us uniquely us. It is the only feature that can bring us true freedom in this interwoven universe. Because, although it seems like a wound, it’s the only path to visit that which is beyond the quilt. It is terrifying, because the quilt seems warm and cozy, each stitch follows certain patterns that are understood and comforting. Yet a quilt without holes is a sterile artifact; a dull, lifeless expression of blocks reciprocally controlled by the influence of surrounding blocks. This quilt, when placed over the light, blocks it completely. It can’t see beyond itself. Not one member exists in this perfect quilt, for they are blended together in an endless, flat form. Therefore, no block has a chance at experiencing anything real, uninfluenced by the determinants of others. But a ripped quilt is a quilt filled with love. This void in each block is what I mean when I use the word, God; insisting, at every moment, that by becoming less, we are more than just a block controlled by a crowd, revealing the true nature of love and freedom. When you love truly, you find your beloved through the bridge created by a common wound, not by consuming them through patchwork. If we are willing to embrace that which we initially experience as brokenness, the endless destructive cycle of the promise-of-more can be decelerated, and we may get a glimpse of our true nature, revealing a path to the true nature of others. If we are willing to stop expanding and rip open the patchwork to make ourselves less, we have a chance at experiencing the unconditional; our maximum fullness.

If you enjoyed this new meditation on the deeper meaning of the game, you’ll love THE BENEFITS OF BROKENNESS!! Check it out here: www.theartofwarandbaseball.com