Friday, October 19, 2007

Fallow

Autumn has always, always been my favorite season. Even when I was growing up in a state where "Fall" meant "tear another page off of the calendar, you can't tell any other way," I knew when it really happened. Maybe it's day length sensitivity or something.

Later, living somewhere with a cliched greeting-card version of the season, I almost got hit by cars walking along looking up at trees (changing!) and clouds (scudding!) just sort of humming happily to myself. Probably equinox-drunk.

And it's happening again now, only I'm a little confused because there wasn't much "summer" to indicate that "fall" would be the coming attraction, and anyone who has ever watched a movie with me knows that I'm all about the previews. And I still love it.

But lately, it's become clear that not only am I not going to make twelve sweaters this year, I may not knit again this year. Combinations of stress have just driven any knitting sort of underground. Lots of work, which is a blessing; my dad has been doing the hospital/rehab place roller coaster, which is also a blessing, in many ways; watching those around me deal with their own troubles in graceful, attractive ways has taught me so much -- hey look! another blessing; and the kids are terrific and very very busy. Blessings all (easier to say now that they're asleep).

Instead of fighting it, which I do sometimes, the concept of letting this lay fallow is growing in me. Spinning has become my evening activity of choice, when I'm not ferreting out blatant plagiarism, and the soothing pull of the yarn and the sliding of the fiber heal whatever is jagged from the day. I even spun in public the other day, horrifying Thing 1, but fascinating everyone from little kids to old people.

While I'd rather be finishing the sweaters begun earlier, and I'd love to be casting on for new projects, it's probably better not to fight the inevitable. In the garden, for example, it's time to plant lettuce and kale, to rake over the old beds and put in the carrots. To plant tomatoes and melons now would be to doom them to misery. Likewise, if I rushed my still-healing body into the gym and pumped weights as though there had been no hiatus, I'd become seriously laid up. Waiting and listening have their own wisdom, and I'm lucky to get to be still in the middle of doing a lot and receive them.

9 comments:

amanda j said...

You do what you need to do! Your writing is lovely, very contemplative and thought provoking.

Robin said...

Don't worry about the sweaters - knitting is supposed to be fun and restorative, not another item on the to-do list. And I'll take over the Sweater a Month thing next year, I don't know if you saw my comment before. If you want me to take it, I'll move it to Typepad, as I have a bunch of other KALs (and my blog) that I host there and it'd be easier for me to manage there. Let me know.

cpurl17 said...

I was just thinking about you and was happy to see you've posted!

You do what is soothing for you! The knitting will be there when you need it.

Morenna said...

I think most knitters go through non-knitting periods, for various reasons. I've had slumps that lasted just days and others that lasted months to a year. Spinning is good therapy though. As long as you don't let the finished yarn bully you into knitting before you're ready to knit.

Glad you like the scarf! I was going to e-mail you to say it was on its way, but completely forgot. I really like how soft it is. I used to pet it a lot on "bad" days when I was knitting it. :-)

Katherine said...

Take care of yourself. There's nothing like some trouble/disasters to bring one's attention to the blessings. And know that I, for one, enjoy every one of your posts, knitting or no knitting (bees or no bees).

Charity said...

Nicely said. I've been thinking about you - I'm glad for the opportunities your family has found for growth, but sad to hear about sad things. Hang in there!

meg said...

A very good analogy; we all need those "fallow" periods to rest, restore, & regain our perspective. I'm glad to hear that you are still letting fiber sooth your soul- it doesn't all have to be knit (at least, not right now)
Not to stir the pot, but I just put in two "cold weather" tomatoes- they are loaded with fruit & I'm promised tomatoes thru Feb or Mar; we'll see (but I'm hopeful)

allisonmariecat said...

i was wondering how you were, and I'm glad to read you again. The knitting will keep until whenever you can return to it. I'm trying to be more zen about all the things I'm not able to do right now, and your post is an inspiration. Beautiful writing.

suzee said...

Not in the same knitting league as you, but I go through long periods where I can't imagine what I ever saw in knitting. And then they end as suddenly as they begin, and I can't put my needles down for anything.

Hope all the potholes on life's highway are patched soon...

Caffeinated beverage sometime soon?