I don’t often miss knitting.
But, right now, I wouldn’t mind a big, fat ball of speckled orange yarn and a pair of number 10 needles.
My Amtrak train is just pulling into Penn Station, New York, NY and my feet are twitching to dash into the city, hit the nearest yarn store, and fly back before the train departs.
Somewhere in the heart of Manhattan, I just know there is a fabulous knitting nook full of soft cashmere yarns, yummy wool twills, and nubbled, knotty, funky art yarns that would help the last few hours of this trip to fly by.
Having spent the morning watching the Eastern seaboard scroll past my window, consuming food made by someone else’s hands and reading books that someone else wrote, I can feel my creativity rising, like an itch surfacing from deep under the skin. I don’t often knit anymore, but now feels like it would be a good time to begin again.
I learned to knit from my grandmother who created the most gorgeous cable patterns… from the cheapest, scratchiest yarns she could get her hands on (often in atrocious colors).
The urge to create is so much a part of who we are.
And how we create becomes a statement of who we are.
Do you allow yourself the soft, dreamy yarns that soothe your fingers and calm your soul, or do only allow yourself someone else’s leftovers from the sale bin?
(I know, if it’s a Ramen noodle week, you’re not investing in expensive yarn.)
But notice your patterns– are you willing to buy a venti macchiato on your way to work but are unwilling to invest in expressing yourself and connecting with your spirit? Are you using money as an excuse to stifle your creative urges?
When you price-out the cost of creating, do you factor in the joy your fingers will feel, the way your soul will salivate over just the right color, and the smug satisfaction of a compliment received from a stranger on the street? Or do you compare yarn costs to the cost of buying yourself a sweater at Marshall’s and budget accordingly?
Do you ever think of your legacy… the granddaughter who will sit on an Amtrak train, willing creation from her fingertips? Or the throw blanket, lovingly made, that lays across the back of your granddaughter’s couch?
When she reaches for that throw blanket, how do you want it to feel? How do you want her to feel?
P.S. Firey herbs are good for lighting the creative spark. Try some fresh ginger tea with a pinch of cayenne, plus lemon and honey, when you need to get things moving!
Want to get creative with herbs and essential oils? Check out my recipes!