Reading Stitches
Books, Poetry, Things I Wish I Knew For Sure, and not all that much about Knitting

Jun 19, 2012

Rhythm and SSKs

I know the difference between a slip slip knit and a knit two together.
I can do them over and over again - and have.
I have taken the rhythm for granted, I think - such a shame.
I move on past those stitch markers with only a slight acknowledgement,
As if they chose to be there, insisted upon it, and I am only
Tolerating their presence!  But, I like the smooth movement when I ignore them.
Let them be there.

Most of them are a lime, almost florescent green color, and there is one purple one -
The only one I thank openly, with no shame - after all, I’m not counting!
Why should I, when the purple one is there?  And, my red clicking row counter?
It could be that I only use it for the sound,
And the better than bursting bubble wrap satisfaction it gives.
But, I’m lying.  I rely on that row counter.  I know I can survive without it.
I can survive without those stitch markers, perhaps even the purple one, too.
But, survival is no fun, and pretty stressful without tricks.

It’s marking time that’s fun.  It’s the bass to my rock and roll, the tick of the clock,
The beep of the microwave and the washing machine.  Remember we didn’t have beeps when
We were kids?  Time didn’t mean as much, so we didn’t need them.  Rhythm was like breathing.
But, now, marking time, my own ticking clock, it’s a way of telling myself that I am moving forward, Getting something done.  And, these days, it is also a way to remind me that if I ignore the rhythm,
If I take it for granted, like a damn kid, it will not exist without my attention.
Where is my attention these days?

I know the difference between a yarn over and a yarn over backwards, now.
With one you start from the front and go over.  With the other you start from the back and come over.  They’re beautiful in their own elegant way, these metaphors in knitting.  Simple, and profound, too.
We often enough need to stop and go back, or need to go back in order to move forward.
What worries me is what I ignore all too often these days.  Like ignoring steps in a dance.
As if somehow I don’t need to know the difference.

But, I do.
Knowing the difference reminds me that I am alive in a living world,
Even if my sense of rhythm, and time, are slow, and waning.
'This too shall pass', she said, 'so be present.'
Being present helps me to remember what I love, what we all love, which is the rhythm of living.
So what if, now, it requires my attention?  Should I be annoyed by the need for rhythm?
The need to pay attention?  The need to mark my time, or my presence here?
What happens if I stop?  Nothing.

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