Meditation on Two Knitting Needles

 

Click-clack. Click clack. The bamboo knitting needles tap lightly with the back-and-forth rocking motion of my hands. The yarn uncoils from my left index finger, slips to the right-hand needle’s round point, slides through an existing stitch from the line below, and is pulled up to join the next line. Thus, a cord of yarn is cajoled into becoming a brand-new stitch. Thread held in back, it’s a knit stitch. Yarn held in front, a purl stitch pops out. Two-knit-two-purl, two-knit-two-purl, and a rib pattern is revealed. Knit, knit, knit, knit all the stitches on the front and back, and a seed stitch germinates. Knit all the fronts and purl all the backs, the work-a-day stockinette builds a wall of cozy stitches. Different sequences, different successions form different patterns. No matter how complicated the pattern, it is made up of simple knits or simple purls lined up on a simple rod called a knitting needle.  So simple, yet so satisfying.

The bamboo knitting needles feel alive, smooth and agile under my fingertips--softer and warmer than the old metal needles, more responsive than the dull plastic varieties. The tall grassy bamboo plant once blew in the wind. Now its wood transforms the yarn and brings something new into existence. The stitches attach one with the other, entwining and growing, multiplying stitch upon stitch, row upon row.  From two sticks and a string, a sweater with its arms stretched wide is born, a baby blanket is birthed, a sock is ready to slip into a shoe.  The knitter becomes the Creator; the knitting needles and length of yarn become the building blocks of creation.

The news clips may scream with chaos and destruction, but in a quiet space, on a comfy couch, with the syncopation of the tapping needles, all feels calm and orderly. Only an incorrect gauge can prove catastrophic.  A dropped stitch is a fixable oops, not a world crisis. An unsightly knot can be pulled to the back of the work. Alpha waves flow and alter the passage of time and sense of place.  Two moving hands and two wooden sticks working in concert reward the knitter with inner peace, and also, a new piece of knitwear.

Marsha