This past week I treated myself to a new set of knitting needles. Owning a yarn shop allows me to indulge my hobby with near reckless abandon. I tell myself it is market research and it is, after all, my obligation to be in the know. My customers depend on me...right? All rationale aside, I have been wanting these needles for years. The manufacturer sold them directly to the customer through mail order and the internet. Just recently they decided to sell wholesale to yarn shops. Yippee! I could now own these beautiful wooden needles and not just stare longingly at them from afar.
We fiber folks are tactile...very touchy feely. Our yarn and tools must not only perform a certain task, but they must feel good in our hands and be pleasing to look at as well. When I sat down to knit with these needles my hands relaxed, my grip loosened and the work began to flow from the needles. I thought it was just the initial rush of a new toy, but I cast on a second project and again the same sensation. I was, once again, enjoying the process. I am a process knitter. I knit for the pleasure of the process. I love the projects, but if the process is not pleasurable then the chances of completion are nil. That is just how I am wired. There is a psychological/physical/emotional connection in knitting. My needles get into a rhythm freeing my mind and spirit to soar.
It is in these zen moments that my mind roams aimlessly, occasionally stopping to ponder more deeply the things of the world. Most recently I began to wonder why it is that I can't remember s_ _ t.
I am really not that old, and yet if I am this forgetful now what I am going to be doing in 20 years? Good thing Cheyanne loves her Mimi because she might have to remind me where I live someday. I am really not making light of this serious situation. I talk with many ladies during an average week at Yarntopia and this seems to be a very common condition. Do we just live in a world of sensory overload and this is our brain's defense mechanism? I'm hoping so. I don't think my brain stops working, even while I sleep as I often wake feeling exhausted. I only seem to feel rested when I am away from home. Hmmm, I am seeing a connection here.
I think it was Erma Bombeck that said "getting old isn't for sissies." Boy, she wasn't kidding. So, how can I slow my brain down and get the mental rest I so desperately need? Knitting helps as long as I'm not trying to crank out a project for the store. Listening to music, particularly classical or jazz is a definite. But those are just bandaids. I think I need to check with the Manufacturer for a recall notice. Surely God didn't intend for us to feel this way.
Then I remember, "Relax the grip, allow the flow." Could the answer really be that simple? Relax the death grip I have on all the details of my life and just let the life God placed in me flow through me to others. It's worth a try. God has given us all the tools we need for life, it is up to us to use them in the process of becoming the product He designed us to be.
Don't worry, be happy.
Ok, so God didn't say that but it makes a great ending.
Hugs,
Sheryl
