I finished a pair of woolly socks last night. My son needed them for the coming winter and I thought of using some left over yarn to make stripes for the socks - both to get rid of the extra little balls of yarn and to make sure the one bluish-brownish ball I had purchased for the socks will definitely be enough to last until the end of the second sock. I'm happy to say the dark brown and the blue-brown yarn were just about enough, with only a few meters of left overs after the socks were finished, so my goal of getting rid of the excess balls fulfilled itself fantastically. There's only a bit of green left, and that can be given to a friend, who has just recently bought the same type of yarn for the first time.
One thing I realized as I was darning in the ends of the yarn. More than being happy of accomplishing something, more than a feeling of contentment of a finished project, I was already feeling excited over what I'll cast on next. In fact, many of my knittings become very hard to get to the end point because of this. I'm so excited about new stuff, that I can't be bothered with the old anymore. I can't be asked to even finish certain UnFinished Objects because there's no joy in the accomplishment itself.
Yesterday I was happy about finishing the socks. I was proud of myself for sticking to one single project at a time, for making sure this pair of socks is properly finished before thinking of anything else. But lo and behold - as soon as I set the darning needle off my hands, my mind was wandering off to the UnStarted Projects, and my hands longed to crawl into the nest of my yarn balls and find something suitable for casting on next.
And I thought there's something wonky about that. I do love yarn, and I do love beginnings, but not even being able to take the time to notice something being accomplished was something that struck me.
So I thought of trying out something I've never tried before.
I didn't cast on anything new last night.
I didn't cast on anything this morning.
And although I did take two balls of yarn and some needles and a knitting magazine with a pretty winter hat tutorial with me to work when I packed my things this morning, I haven't cast on anything for the whole of today.
There's an empty void in the knitting department. Nothing new has been started to replace the finished object, and boy does that feel weird.
I can't remember a time like this, when there hasn't been a replacement in line waiting for the old project to finish.
I'm intending on lingering here for a few moments, for this is new territory for me.
How about you?
What are the moments in your life where you have so many things in line waiting to be fulfilled that you never ever even dream of stopping still for a moment and appreciating what you already have done? Emails? Dishes? Hoovering? Shopping? Christmas card making?
How about stopping anyway and seeing what happens?
Anne
