I am sitting at my dining table in the kitchen where it is warm; the oven holds baked oatmeal and peaches for tonight’s low-maintenance dinner and does a great secondary job of heating up this small home.
I am knitting again, in between writing and peaking on the oatmeal. On the needles is a gift for a dear friend who was one of the first to “order” something when I put out my request for help so I could pay for my course and trip to Milwaukee last weekend. The yarn in my hands is forest heather, a golden flecked emerald DK weight wool, and I’m crafting a handkerchief headband whose pattern title harkens on the forest theme: Lichen.
The special, community supported way in which beginning my teacher training was made possible fills me with gratitude, and as I work to complete each order I am trying to be mindful of the donor the item is going to, filling myself with love and appreciation for their support. It is especially useful that this course is about meditation, as knitting itself can become quite a contemplative exercise. As I work with my hands, in my mind’s eye I am surrounded by large fir trees and a moss covered forest floor like the moist soils of Oregon. The deep green yarn tells of ancient mysteries that lurk behind the trees.
The truth is, my heart is heavy and my mind is unsettled lately, but when I dig deep I find that weightless joy abounds even in the midst of difficult times and decisions. I am delighted and surprised by this; that peace can transcend circumstances and fruitful hope can arise from the decays of failure is a calming anecdote in a world that is sometimes so damn confusing.
The inviting aroma of maple and cinnamon tells me dinner is ready…