women of a certain age are like sunflowers; they know how to turn their faces to the sun.

Monday, July 13, 2009

No(ro) Time Like the Present

"We steal if we touch tomorrow. It is God's."
-Henry Ward Beecher

Isn't that a fascinating quote to ponder today? I'm not quite sure I ever thought of it that way.

Of course, it is all too true.

DH is out of town this week, down in Huntsville AL at a training session for his job. So I stayed up too late knitting last night.

But look at how much I accomplished!

Just last week, it looked like this:

Just goes to show, you never really know what your children are going to grow up to become!

The pattern just wasn't making the best use of the spectacular color runs of the Silk Garden Lite. But I wanted to keep this project on the simple side.

An easily memorized 6 stitch, 14 row mosaic pattern does the trick. You get the complex look of Fair Isle with half - one third - nowhere NEAR the effort! Clever yarn!

She doesn't have a name yet - any suggestions?

Note added later: Too late! I christened her "Byzantine" for the colorful mosaics found in Byzantine churches.

Meanwhile, Festivus is ready for her bath and a little stretch to knock out the kinks. Look for her tomorrow.

Not every ball of Noro is so flamboyant. This understated little fellow is waiting on additional yarn. As you can see in this pic, the dreaded Noro knot rendered the pattern indistinguishable at the top.

His time will come soon enough.

Last night, as I knit, I watched the late movie on AMC: The Game, with Michael Douglas. Michael Douglas plays Nicholas Van Horton, a very successful and lonely business tycoon, whose brother gives him a very unusual birthday present.

I won't go too deeply into the plot (would take forever - very convoluted) but the upshot is that Nick learns how to live in the present, because everything spirals so far out of control that he has no choice, but to react.

And, in the end, that IS the gift. The complete unsettling of his routine breaks the bonds that hem him in and sets him free to experience life more adventurously, more fully...

More presently.

Sometimes I think I am somehow deficient or less than an adult, because I live so fully in the present. My work demands it. Thinking about next month, or next year, while you are knitting a complex pattern is asking for it.

"It" being dropped stitches, unintentional "K2tog"s, wonky patterns, one-offs, and frog ponds.

Sometimes I think I should worry more about the future.
  • Will my eyes hold up?
  • Will my patterns keep selling?
  • Will I run out of things to say?
  • How will I cope if Scott dies first?
  • If I do?
  • What does tomorrow hold, that I should be preparing for today?

I used to worry about those things all the time. Now I just shove them back into the closet and slam the door behind them. I can't answer them, so why waste my enjoyment of life on them?

I am never happier than when fully present in the moment, whether I am knitting, playing with Conner, spending time with my husband, or listening to God.

John Lennon had it exactly right when he wrote, "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans."

Sometimes, we need those plans to go awry.

Sometimes, we need to let go of our perceived realities.

Sometimes, we need to let the yarn, the beloved, the truth, or the moment tell us where to go and what the pattern looks like.

I do not design. I let the design flow through me.

I do not drive. I let the road take me where it will.

Trying to wrest the wheel into my hands would surely lead to disaster.

Might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.


Donna Lee said...

I remember that movie. I am happiest when I remember that I have so very little control over what's going to happen tomorrow that to make elaborate plans is asking for trouble. I am content (most days, I'm far from perfect) to let life unravel at its own pace. It's more peaceful that way. Maybe it's just that I'm getting older.

RobbinMT said...

I think that the quote by Beecher was just what I needed to contemplate this week. Thank you so much for posting it!

Ruth said...

That is the wonder of getting older: you can let go of so much nonsense and just concentrate on the now. Tomorrow is tomorrow; I'll happily take today.