Unknitting
While on a conference call today with my beautiful Body Trust ® Cohort #4 (I am also part of Cohort #3 but that's a whole 'nother story I'll save for a later date), I was doing what I’m often doing, while sitting, while listening, while riding in a car, while watching TV... doing what keeps me grounded... knitting. This Girl's always got knit ta do Chile!
As I was listening, talking and knitting, I got caught up in the conversation while not missing a beat (nor a stitch) on my knitting. I was so happy to be connecting with my colleagues. By the end of the phone call, I looked down at my project and discovered that I had begun to knit in the round, which was not what I was going for since I was starting a baby blanket for my great nephew.
So there I was, connecting my yarn in a way that I did not intend. This is so much like life, right?!? Doing or not doing what we intended or didn't intend to do. Learning what we didn't intend to learn. Being how we didn't intend to be.
I had to correct the process without damaging my project. I had to un-knit.
As I proceeded to unknit back to the point where the error was made, I was inspired and wrote this poem.
Unknitting
Knitting
Feeling the beautiful soft yarn
Helping me to feel
The feels of my feelings
Casting on to a rod
Holding on for dear life
Needing softness and strength
To keep me connected
I began to knit
With the view of the script
The tried and tested patterns
Often hard for me to follow
I am curious
Yet knowing
I will have to knit
My project, my passions, my problems, my past
My intentions
In my artistically authentic way
Free styling this bitch
Excuse me, this stitch
Or the evolution of a new
Stitch ‘n Bitch®
It’s a real thing y’all
A movement of feminist groups and books
Reclaiming the art of knitting
While daring to be different
Yet those caught up on the word
Will sadly miss the point
The point is in my knitting needles
And the point is in me
And the point gets stuck
In twisted skeins of you
In pretty variegated yarn
In scratchy bundles that itch
Rolled balls too delicate
Laws and patterns too hard to work
Like Lamb’s wool
The process can be felted and strong
Holding the container
The burdens of our nations
The point is also in my totes full of yarn
The different weights and types
That are crocheted and knit together in Love
The point is in the true poetry
That the hook
And the needles
And the lines of threads
Collectively create as they commune
I was also once caught up
On the words of works
But now I’ve been freed
By transforming grace
Yet this grace
Doesn’t prevent me from making mistakes
Bleeps and bloopers
Not intended to offend
Nor to entertain
That tapestry covers me
Every time I get in my own way
Every single time
I trip over my feet
Or accidentally or intentionally step on your toes
Which happens at least
Seven times a day
Sometimes
When I look at what I have knitted
What’s been hooked and learned
The afghans and throws
That have covered my frame
I realize that I have committed
The biggest sin of all
I’ve been knitting a routine
Not calling a thing a thing
So I must stop
Name that bitch
Release that stitch
And let it go
The unraveling was never mine
Nor yours to determine
The point is
That I’m forgiving
Unstitching
Unknitting
Unbitching
As the gratitudes of my unlearning
Creates new arts of being whole
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Copyright June 8, 2018 | Angela Braxton-Johnson | All Rights Reserved