Comfort in a Purl
This morning I've felt lazy. And, oddly enough, lazy often takes me to the porch with a book. But it needs to be a book that feels like it's in a different direction than where I've been going for the past week or month.
So I dug out Knit One, Purl a Prayer today, and took it to the side porch. Did you know I have two porches? Side and back.
On the back porch, I've been working hard, in so many ways. Including writing a book that feels both the same and different from what I've done in the past. Because it's fiction, it took a lot out of me. Having never written fiction before, I had to learn as I went along, and I was presuming to actually teach others how to write fiction, so it had to be good. Pressure, pressure.
Now, I always feel a sense of peace on the back porch, but I knew that had been tainted just a bit, because of all the hard work I've been doing there. So I went to the side porch, and here I am.
As you may remember, I've been aching for solitude this past year. And I've honored that ache, and it still remains.
Yet I know there will come a time. A re-entry. I've been wondering what that might look like, and I still don't have a clear picture. To that, this morning I am comforted by two things from Knit One, Purl a Prayer.
The first is a communal knitting project a woman kept in her home. It wasn't pretty; it was useful. Anyone who came into her home could practice on it, no pressure to be good. Just learn.
And so as I wonder about my solitude and my re-entry, I take this image to heart. It is okay to just knit my way, as if in the home of a generous woman with her communal knitting-piece. Did you know God might have such a piece too, somehow? I think maybe God does. We might not need to know exactly where we are going, to put our hands to growing in this life.
The second thing that comforts me from Knit One is the amazing community that apparently exists around the pastime of knitting. There are groups you can join. It's a little like church without the preaching, as some of these groups offer the chance to have spiritual connections with others not only through sharing a craft and stories but also through giving to the world.
It's almost amusing for me to think about maybe someday joining a knitting group. It's been so long since I've knitted. And maybe I won't join such a group, but I am reminded that community and the chance to give-back can be found in the most unexpected places, if we are seeking a chance to belong and bless. To this end, yes, I might even read Knitting for Peace: Make the World a Better Place One Stitch at a Time.
For now, though, I'm just sitting on the side porch. It's quiet here this morning. And, for now, that's the way I'm still knitting-my-way. Taking the quiet into my hands and holding it near.
So I dug out Knit One, Purl a Prayer today, and took it to the side porch. Did you know I have two porches? Side and back.
On the back porch, I've been working hard, in so many ways. Including writing a book that feels both the same and different from what I've done in the past. Because it's fiction, it took a lot out of me. Having never written fiction before, I had to learn as I went along, and I was presuming to actually teach others how to write fiction, so it had to be good. Pressure, pressure.
Now, I always feel a sense of peace on the back porch, but I knew that had been tainted just a bit, because of all the hard work I've been doing there. So I went to the side porch, and here I am.
As you may remember, I've been aching for solitude this past year. And I've honored that ache, and it still remains.
Yet I know there will come a time. A re-entry. I've been wondering what that might look like, and I still don't have a clear picture. To that, this morning I am comforted by two things from Knit One, Purl a Prayer.
The first is a communal knitting project a woman kept in her home. It wasn't pretty; it was useful. Anyone who came into her home could practice on it, no pressure to be good. Just learn.
And so as I wonder about my solitude and my re-entry, I take this image to heart. It is okay to just knit my way, as if in the home of a generous woman with her communal knitting-piece. Did you know God might have such a piece too, somehow? I think maybe God does. We might not need to know exactly where we are going, to put our hands to growing in this life.
The second thing that comforts me from Knit One is the amazing community that apparently exists around the pastime of knitting. There are groups you can join. It's a little like church without the preaching, as some of these groups offer the chance to have spiritual connections with others not only through sharing a craft and stories but also through giving to the world.
It's almost amusing for me to think about maybe someday joining a knitting group. It's been so long since I've knitted. And maybe I won't join such a group, but I am reminded that community and the chance to give-back can be found in the most unexpected places, if we are seeking a chance to belong and bless. To this end, yes, I might even read Knitting for Peace: Make the World a Better Place One Stitch at a Time.
For now, though, I'm just sitting on the side porch. It's quiet here this morning. And, for now, that's the way I'm still knitting-my-way. Taking the quiet into my hands and holding it near.
Labels: community, Knit One Purl a Prayer, knitting as spiritual practice, Peggy Rosenthal, solitude