Persian Rugs: A Birthday Blog

Today is my birthday, a time when I’m aware of the many different strands of life I have woven together.

I remember returning to Iran, back in 2000, and being overwhelmed by the beauty and complexity of my grandmother’s rugs. She must have always had them, but I’d taken them for granted. Now, however, I was obsessed by their colors and the world of their detail. Above all, I was fascinated by the labor of the workers who had bent their backs, taxed their eyes, and blistered their fingers to bring these majestic tapestries to life.

Like a rug maker, I’ve known both pain and beauty in weaving together the different pieces of my life. Childhood trauma dispersed my memories, making it hard for me to be sure of what had happened. So my first task was to learn how to tell my own story, through writing and speaking, and in doing so, to tie together these tatters of memory.

Then I had to connect all my different inner parts, who each held different desires and dreams. I had to find a place for all my wishes on the loom of one life. A carpet with a single color has no beauty. My grandmother’s rugs, however, had every single tint and hue you could imagine. That’s how I knew that I could too.

These days, I feel much more whole, but I still have more strands to weave. Finishing my memoir and finding an agent for it (yay!) has given my life-story a sense of unity, but I still have so many different interests I want to find a place for: acting, dancing, cooking, writing, traveling, therapy, teaching, hiking. There are so many little joys I still long to tie to the warp of my days. 

Sometimes, I feel anxious about how much I want, but then I remember that the line between anxiety and excitement is a narrow one, and I push myself to live each day a little more fully. As long as my heart beats, I have a right to want more. So do you.

Thank you so much for being part of my life and journey! Whether you’re a close friend or someone who reads my writing, you are a gift to me.