Sunday, September 11, 2011

Socks: A Love Story

When I first saw this yarn, I decided it was time to knit again.  Knitting is symbolic for me, an indicator that I am calm enough to slow down, an indicator that I have free time or that I am willing to make free time just for me.  Knitting socks is yet another indicator, challenging the impatient side of me to do something which takes a long time and which requires doing it all over again, i.e. making the second sock.  And knitting these socks?  The yarn was much finer than what I have worked with and I decided to try a new knitting technique, to challenge myself beyond my comfort.

All that, with no pre-determined destination for the socks, should I ever finish them, and yet I undertook the project.  Knitting for me is much like cooking; in both activities  I get as much pleasure from the task - or tasks- involved as I do from the end project, and particularly sharing the end project.  

I found incredible joy in knitting what started out as "the goddamn socks" and ultimately became the meditation socks.  The intimacy of sock knitting, with its small needles and the ability to hold the whole piece in my hands was comforting,and I fell in love with the calm and experience of knitting all over again. I briefly dated a man who thought he should be the rightful recipient.  As with cooking, I have learned not to lavish too much of myself on someone too soon, and the unfinished socks remained with me after this man left my life.

When I realized who might be the perfect recipient for the socks- and I considered many - the experience came full circle.  I gave them to a friend with whom I've had a fragile relationship, and it felt really good.  I could never have knit for him before, because it might have implied an expectation.  Now it was possible.  And the love story of the socks turns out to be with me.

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