Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Slowly Slowly

Getting back into blogging has been just as challenging as I thought it would be. Success in writing for me means quiet time, no interruptions, focus, etc, etc, etc... At least, that's what I tell myself. I went back in time today. Back to 2007. I read my journal from that year. It stretched from February of 2007 until May 25th 2008. Going back to visit your darkest days, after ten years or so, is cathartic.

There is so much I want to write about, so much to say on so many different subjects that they all jumble together. But today, the past, the present and the future.

In the days I was writing that journal, I was stuck in a pattern of repeating conflicts. Mourning, pining, wishing, hoping, groping for the light that was supposed to be at the end of the tunnel. I couldn't see any light. There was no flicker of hope. There was only darkness and despair. The strange thing is, the thing that put me into that place, is the thing that got me out of it. Sort of.

I was in that dark place before it took me over, but I was never the resigned type. Usually, I take the bull by the horns, wrestle it to the floor and force it into submission, one way or another. That figurative bull was any obstacle, situation or conflict I might be facing at any given moment. But wrestling bulls gets exhausting, and isn't there a saying about bulls? Something about horns? Yeah, you know the one. So, I got the horns, and it got dark.

There was a middle time, between the first break and the break that starting my healing. The darkness in that time was intense. All I could do was pine and mourn over a beautiful fiction that I had created almost by myself. There were aspects of it that were real, that I hadn't created, but it's easy to see what you want to see when you feel nearly desperate for appreciation or to even be acknowledged as worthy of attention.

The things I learned from breaking are profound. One of the main things is that there is always another chance to get it right. The chance may not be with the same person, but the chance does reoccur. The lesson you have to learn to get to the next step in your personal evolution will present itself again and again until you get it right.

I don't pine anymore, but I still mourn. The pining was less about any particular person, but about love. That thing that had been just beyond my reach. It would appear in front of me, shadowy and misty. Then it would materialize and make me feel safe enough to reach for it and disappear into thin air and leave me bleeding and reeling. As I was learning to love myself enough to not settle for anything less that something quite real and tangible, I had to start to mourn for the person whose job it was to teach me unconditional love. Dads are funny things. Flawed and flailing in their own worlds of ineptitude, how can they do their job when no one taught them those things about themselves?

The truth is, unless they are very diligent, they cannot teach what they have not learned personally. It is forgivable, because it must be. To live happily we must forgive the inadequacies of those who started molding us, as difficult as it is.

So here I sit. In the present. Having looked at the past, reflected on the present and looking forward to a future that is all light and no tunnel. Emerging into the light has been a relief but has come with it's own birthing pains. This is to be expected.

The lesson is, if you are in darkness, darkness cannot persist, for into the darkness, light will come - one way or another. But you must be patient in the interim, the light is worth the wait.

~ * ~

In unrelated news, I'm still knitting that baby blanket. The baby is born and getting old by now. Maybe this blanket is for a different baby? That's what I have to tell myself for procrastinating so long. Oh well, that baby already has lots of blankets. =)

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

When I'm Wrong I'm Wrong

Behold! A swatch!

You see, it had to be done. I was wrong to imagine the yarn you see holding the swatch up would ever look right in this pattern. I was also wrong to think I was going to double strand this cotton. I changed my mind accordingly and here lie the labors of my mind. Keeping it simple has many advantages.

My original failed project had 199 stitches. It was going to be fairly large for a baby blanket. The swatch is 25 stitches (quite photogenic for a swatch, don't ya think?) and 4 inches across exactly. 200÷25=8  8×4=32 32 inches is a decent size for a baby blanket. I think I'll stick with the 199.

Now I have to decide to keep the swatch (because it's so pretty) or save yarn and roll it back up. Most likely I'll decide in favor of the latter, but I may be wrong. Again.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Where the Heck am I?

I'm here, lurking, reading, clicking all my links in the side bar looking for life in Blog Land. I've been feeling it's time to reconnect with the Knit Blog Community. This leads me to examine how I connected with Knit Blogging to start with, why I drifted away, and why I'm heading back in.

The reason I got into Knit Blogging was for a creative outlet that could encompass all the drives I had in me. I was brought to this community by my sister Heidi (Mica), remember her? She was a teenager at the time, getting into html coding, learning along side me the ins and outs of knitting, fiber, attempted crochet, etc. We blogged together for a while and then we blogged apart for a while. Things happened, lives exploded, lives were knit back together and exploded again and knit together again. 

Life is hard.

That's the real answer to all three reasons. I knit because life is hard. I blog because life is hard. I do art because life is hard. I fight with my family because life is hard. I make up with my family because life is hard. I drifted away from blogging because life is hard and I'm back here because life is hard.

The hardness of life, though, need not make us hard. It definitely can do so, but we choose how we respond to hardness. We can develop tenacity, empathy, kindness, compassion and we can love just as hard as life can be. Through it all, keep moving forward, keep swimming, knit through all, keep on keeping on, never give up, plug away, keep breathing in and out and keep our heads up.

Whatever kicks us or slaps us or does unjustifiable things to us - that is the problem of that thing. Our response and attitude is our problem. You reap what you sow. Karma. Balance. God. The Universe. Aliens. Whatever you believe all boils down to the same thing Jesus said, "Treat others as you would like to be treated." and "Turn the other cheek." And for the sake of all things just BE NICE, c'mon! Is it really that hard to just not be a jerk? hm? really?

ANYWAY...

I started knitting a thing and then I ripped the thing apart because it was making my eyes crossed. Originally I was going to make a pretty little baby blanket out of variegated yarn and also knit patterns into it. That was a bad idea. And of course there's all those people talking to you when you are just trying to think straight and you P K P K P instead of K P K P K and it all goes bonkers. So... the end and the beginning.

So here I am at the library where they have real internet and actual quiet doing real work and some playing (right now) although this technically is work because I'm writing and I'm a writer. so there HUMPH

Anyway, different yarn is picked out and since I actually did my due diligence and planned it out very  thoroughly, I can start again with much fewer problems - hopefully. I actually get to use the object of my last post, my "new" yarn stranding box that I made. I'm actually going to do a swatch first. (don't panic) Everyone knows I don't "swatch" (yes I used that as a verb) and I'm not a "swatcher" but we can't all stick to our principles 100% of the time. If this double stranding is too much for this pattern, I want to know now before I cast on 199 stitches and do several rows of garter stitch and then start something I can't stomach.

So, I'm back and I'll be back again.

Just keep knitting, knitting, knitting la la LA LA laaaaaaaaaaaaaa