Two days ago - in the beginnings of a blizzard - it was necessary to drive eight miles or so to Joanns Fabrics for yarn. I needed to keep my fingers busy, so I bought three POUNDS of yarn. Gray. White. Navy. Since then, a six inch wide and three and a half foot long meandering white stripe grew row by row from my silver size 10 1/2 needles.
The process is at least as satisfying as the blanket will one day be. The yarn's rough texture, the slip and slide click of the needles, and the twisted stitches feel and sound and look good to me. I sort of marvel at the simple intricacy of what I am creating. My fingers and hands know how to move and control yarn and needles without help from my brain, so free thought flows. A moving meditation. Knit one, think one. Thought to thought to thought. Stitch to stitch. Row to row.
I think about my children. Writing. My students. I think about the to-do's waiting to be done. I think about living with intention and in the moment of now. Now will not wait - not that I want it to - but I want to be sure to notice now, to live it, love it, revel around with it, soak in it, and breathe it in.
Tomorrow will be here soon enough, but I have right now wrapped around a really big ball of yarn. It feels warm.