**“become patterned”**

Collage, cut *New Yorker* magazine paper, 12” x 9”

It’s been decades since I was in a math class.

If grades are any measure, then I used to be pretty good at math. I didn’t enjoy it all that much except for successfully solving problems. And getting an A on my report card. (Okay, and one B.)

But as soon as the education overlords said I had fulfilled the necessary math requirements to get a piece of paper with my name on it, I was done with math.

Until years later when I started to learn about sacred geometry. I’m no expert, and even if you’re not either, you’ve probably still heard about the Fibonacci sequence. Each number in the sequence is the sum of the previous two numbers: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, and so on.

INNER CRITIC URSULA: Oh, goody. Numbers. I’m all a-twitter.

ME: (gives side-eye)

Those numbers can show up in nature in the form of spirals—in sunflowers and seashells, for example. And that is fascinating to me—the notion that all of nature, all of the universe, is based on patterns.

I love finding patterns. I think it’s the same part of my brain that loves solving puzzles, that loves creating collages.

I don’t know a huge amount about the Zodiac, but my Walking Buddy Wanda does. She tells me that my four planets in Virgo probably have a lot to do with my propensity for seeing and creating patterns. I’ll buy that.

I needed that Virgo influence this week as I worked on this collage. Because other patterns started to show up. Behavior patterns.

“Dog Walking 2.0” by Tom Gauld (@tomgauld)The New Yorker, Innovators Issue, May 20, 2019 — “Dog Walking 2.0” by Tom Gauld (@tomgauld)
*The New Yorker,* Innovators Issue, May 20, 2019

I had a vision for the collage, but it wasn’t entirely clear to me at first. I knew I had some beautiful landscape photography to work with from this week’s New Yorker issue. And I had a general idea of what I wanted to do. But I knew that I would need to create some of it on the fly. I couldn’t pre-plan all of it. And I think I was intimidated by that.

So I procrastinated. I had all my squares cut out, but it took a while to commit to the glue. Of course, once I started, I had fun solving the “problem.”

Patterns I’m recognizing: thinking I’m incapable; thinking I won’t like what I create; thinking others won’t like it; thinking it matters if I or others don’t like it; thinking I have to adhere to a certain standard; thinking I need to get an A. I could go on.

These thought patterns can create another pattern—stasis. Sometimes stasis is called for. Other times, it’s an obstacle.

With this week’s collage I wanted to convey patterns emerging from chaos. And even evolving into a more complex pattern, the way life-forms evolve out of water. So that yellow object? What do you see? A bird? A fish? Teddy Roosevelt? I can go with two out of three of those.

If you read last week’s post (thank you!), you know that I’m looking to unburden myself from things that no longer serve me—old wounds, old identities, old patterns.

But just releasing them leaves a void. And nature hates a void. I want to replace those old burdens with new patterns, thoughts, behaviors that do serve who I am today.

I guess my collaging counts as a new pattern, at least for these 52 weeks. And it comes with the added bonus of helping me identify more patterns that need releasing.

URSULA: Maybe you can get extra credit for that on the final exam.

ME: Har-dee-har. Bugger off.