Building the Framework

It was May 1998, and I was getting married in a month. In a moment of inspiration (more like insanity) I decided to sew a quilt for Brian, my fiance. I immediately went to my mom and told her my great idea. She looked at me incredulously.

“Do you know how to do that?”

Admittedly, I did not. But I had sewed a skirt in 4H when I was 9, and I had also made a pair of flannel pajamas just the year before…so I was practically an expert!

I plowed ahead. I found a pattern I liked, gathered my supplies, and went for it. My mom would offer suggestions here and there—things like I needed to use a rotary cutter so the lines would be straight, and how to bind the edges. I didn’t listen. It would all work out just fine.

Remember, this was 1998, and learning new tricks on YouTube wasn’t a thing yet. I followed the pattern in a haphazard way, winging it when I didn’t know what I was doing (which was pretty often). The lines weren’t quite straight, and what was binding again? I just simply folded the edges under and sewed them together. It was an interesting choice. There were lots of sewing mistakes.

When I finished, the quilt looked…slightly disappointing.

Decent, I guess.

Good enough.

I gave it to Brian right before we got married, and we still use it today.

I’ve often wondered why I keep that quilt? It’s functional, sure, but I don’t need it. I don’t think Brian feels particularly sentimental about it. As I thought about it, I realized it’s a reminder to me of how not to do things. Besides a little sewing instruction in 4H, I had not built a framework. There was no track laid before I jumped on the quilt-making train. So the quilt was…ok at best.

In the years afterward, I started building a framework. A dear friend tutored me in all things quilting. She recommended books to read, a sewing machine to buy, and she helped me with every step of the next quilt. This time, I listened. She told me what supplies to get, and I bought them. I took classes on free motion quilting, went fabric shopping with her, and even took some online quilting classes. The track was built before the train came. Because of this, my next quilts were better and better. No quilt was perfect, but I was amazed at the difference.

Building a framework FIRST was the key.

The framework is the boring part, the repetitive stuff that you hate. This is why most people don’t do it. It is certainly why I didn’t listen to my mom when I made that first quilt. Her suggestions took time and too much effort! I didn’t have the patience to actually learn how to sew a quilt—I just wanted to make it. I really wanted to be the person at the end, the one who had already made the beautiful quilt. The problem was that without a frame, there was no beauty.

This is a common problem for most of us. We want these amazing results with no work ahead of time. A few months ago, my 8-year-old son told me he wants to play in the NBA. Great! Go for it! His dad gave him several dribbling drills to work on daily. He hates doing them. In fact, he usually makes excuses for why he can’t do the drills today—he will always do them tomorrow. He wants the train, but not the work of laying down tracks.

My girls started dancing when they were just little girls. It is so easy to enjoy the train now when my 16-year-old dances, but she has been laying down the tracks for that particular train for years. She still is. Her weekly classes in a variety of styles, stretching, rehearsing, competing, and performing have all been part of that framework. It can be a slow process, and it takes a lot of work, but those tracks make the train fly.

What are you building the framework for right now?

Make a list of things you want in your life. Is there a framework in place for each of your desires? Have you put in the daily work so that the train you want has a track?

Building a framework can be taxing. It can feel pointless. The train is much more exciting, and it is tempting to jump right to it. Who cares about the tracks? Well, frankly, you do.

You can sew a quilt, give your husband a haircut, or play a piano piece—but with no framework, those things are going to be rough—possibly disastrous. It may take longer and be a bit tedious, but it’s well worth it to build the tracks first.

Trust me on this one.

Start building.