“What are you making?”
“I’m making a line to the ocean.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“That’s what I’m doing with it.”
“Oh. To find your way?”
A few days ago:
So you’re making one?
Yes, I’m making One.
What are you making, a rope?
I’m knitting a line to the ocean.
Another lady stopped her car briefly to ask me what I was doing, and the driver behind her honked and went quickly around her, speeding south on 16th. The first lady came back later and asked me, “why are you doing this?” I told her again, “I’m knitting a line to the ocean.” She said, “I know, but why?” So I told her, “To connect myself to the Infinite. It’s about communion.” It was so hard for me to be vulnerable like that with a stranger who I doubted would understand. She says, “Well, I better get back to work.”
Today there was an old ship with masts and rigging like a real pirate ship travelling swiftly across the bay. R. says the ships come every summer and that they shoot cannon balls at each other for fun.
C. comes out and sits on the bench with me. I always feel like I’m going to melt, her eyes are so kind. She pointed out how funny a neighbor looked from this angle–it looked like he was peeing, but he was really watering the garden! I probably shouldn’t put that photo up on this blog…