If your interest is to hold onto time, then you will regard it as something slipping away that’s being lost. But if your interest is transformation, growth and change–wanting to ride the wave as it’s cresting–then there is no problem. You are immersed within the flow of time, and you are dripping wet! Bill Viola, video artist
I started knitting at 4:09 today under tumultuous clouds. Let me back up…I was horrified to see a chunky old television and a black t.v. table dumped in front of the bench. I sat down to knit beside my blank-screened friend, wanting so much to turn it into a parable about the benefits of detaching oneself. (There is nothing quieter than an unplugged t.v.) Then D. came out and sat on the bench for a while. A woman walking by asked me what I would do when the line reached the water. D. chimed in, “We’ll have a ribbon-cutting ceremony!” A lot of people have started telling me that they think I’ve already reached the water…Makes me think I should check my progress soon.
One woman wanted to know why I was knitting a rope to the Bay, and D. explained to her, “She’s afraid of the water, but she’s always wanted to swim…so she’s knitting a rope to tether herself so that we can pull her up if she gets in too deep.” It’s very handy to knit with others around to field questions…The woman wasn’t sure whether to believe D. or not, and she moved on.
D. told me that C. is down in Seattle tending our sick neighbor for the next week or so after the surgery. “They’re both strong women, so they would probably start killing each other if she stayed two weeks,” D. said. A little girl approached with a coloring book and a case of rainbow markers. “Are you the Coloring Fairy?” D. asked her. She turned and headed home since it didn’t look like promising weather for coloring outside. D. got the truck and loaded the t.v. and table into the back. All of a sudden, it started to rain buckets. D. ducked into the back seat of the truck and closed the door to wait it out. I was laughing and hooting with the sheer intensity of it.
My shoes got drenched but thankfully my Frogg Toggs kept the rest of me dry. As each drop of rain hit the road, it bounced back up making a crown briefly before another one took its place. The entire surface of the road was full of liquid crowns. Water gushed merrily into the grate near my feet and the knit line turned into a dam holding pine needles and maple leaves. I thought, “Dear God, let me live before I die.” And yes, in that moment, I felt very much alive, abundantly so. It all lasted less than 5 minutes but it was such fun…The rain dwindled to a few speckles here and there, though the gutters still churned with the excess water. D. emerged chuckling from his refuge in the back of the truck and offered me a ride home in a bit when I finished out the hour. I ended up bicycling back, my eyes washed clean by the rain. Golden leaves reflected in the new asphalt streets…the air pregnant with a malty smell as of black tea leaves.
P.S. Full disclosure: I missed my October 18 and 19 knit. I think this one made up for it royally!