and I knit

I have left my beloved home in the hills to temporarily reside in the beloved home of my parents, to be support for them during a challenging time. Here, the greeting of the sun each morning never disappoints.

IMG_6896

Here, one is consistently seduced by the promise of change that resides in the colors of fall. It is a blessing to be assaulted with the beauty of changing scenes throughout the day.

It is a reminder that this time too shall pass, that whatever struggles are here to negotiate right now can be met with gratitude.

And I knit. Not anything complicated or requiring knowledge of sophisticated patterns. I just knit, seventy-two stitches on size ten and a half needles, back and forth until the call for a change in color prompts me to reach in my bag and consider the next phase of the work.

IMG_6908

My knitting bag, bought in Peru last year during my stay with Molly is with me at all times. I never leave home without it.

The simple repetition of knit and purl is a balm. Each stitch is a breath. When the pain of emotion rises, I can send it through my heart and out through my fingers into the next stitch. I revel in the momentary calm. Until the next feeling arises and like a wave finding shore, becomes absorbed in the soft fibers under my touch. Over and over and over again.

I love that fall has the ability to envelop us all in the inevitable acceptance of transition from one season to another. Everything dies. The life of a leaf that eventually falls to the ground is but just a moment in the life of a tree that has the ability to regenerate through change every single year. And in doing so, we are offered the greatest affirmation of living a life. Us humans could learn a thing or two from these trees. I have heard that trees embody a form of intelligence that can communicate through vast root networks. It makes sense that this might be true.

When I knit, I feel the root of devotion to being open to change, open to the love that is there, and open to whatever the next moment might bring.

FullSizeRender-2

I imagine that what moves out through my fingertips becomes part of a vast human network of human hope and promise of joy, that I can connect to a vast network of human fear and sadness and pain and stay rooted to exactly where I am.

IMG_6942

4 thoughts on “and I knit

  1. I too am at my parents during a sad time. But the fall does show us the change that is life. Thanks for the reminder.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s