I think if you’ve read this blog for a while you know how much I adore knitting socks. There are many selfish reasons for that and I don’t have a problem saying it to the knitting community at large. I love knitting socks because I get to be selfish.
Everything I make I sell and that’s how I pay the bills. The only thing I get to keep are my greedy socks. Oh, I love the hours circling around and around with my needles watching the color ways change, the pattern show itself, the time spent quietly in wonder of something other than commerce. Then I have to focus, paying careful attention as I turn the heel. Careful now, careful, I tell myself. Screwing this up could cause the whole thing to collapse! (Not really, but I do like motivating myself).
Then I get to swirl again into mundane sweetness. No thoughts, just watching the colors turn and collide, blend, then subside. By the end we’re at the toe and my sock is done. I slide them on, slip on a pair of jeans, then zip up my boots….and no one can see the result of the most amazing time I’ve had: me time….
Socks are me time. Knitting socks is the time I get to be greedy and selfish with my talent and just sit back and not worry how quickly I have to make them so that I can pay rent. I don’t have to think about that with socks, because knitting socks for just a moment allows me to take down the road blocks that keeping me from moving on into happier, healthier, wealthier.
I get to day dream greedily, selfishly about the things that I want out of life.
So someone randomly, anonymously sent me some sock yarn yesterday.
I put my teddy bear down. It took ten minutes for me to open the package, find the sock yarn, then (hallelujah) have it on my needles. Sock yarn greedily, selfishly found its way into my hands at just the time I needed.
I’m finally going to get some me time….some amazing me time.
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