#BlogElul

#BlogElul 24: End

Leave a comment

#BlogElul 2013I finished knitting a sock yesterday!

It took me a couple days of pretty intense knitting sessions (mostly undertaken to avoid dishes and laundry, I suspect, but that’s neither here nor there) to get from casting on the cuff to working that kitchener-stitch magic at the toe. That’s pretty quick for me.

What a sense of accomplishment there is in reaching the end of a knitted item! I’m always rather chuffed when I finish knitting something. I mean, using pointy sticks to turn string into wearable items is pretty amazing, when you think about it. Or at least it is when I think about it; I may be biased. Either way, I started with raw materials and wound up with a finished object. Go me!

I finished a sock!

Woohoo! I’m done!

As soon as I finished weaving in the last loose yarn ends, I was sorely tempted to stop there. (“Sorely” is literal — I’d been on a knitting hiatus for a while, and my fingers were tender from unaccustomed manipulation of small-diameter double-pointed needles.) Hadn’t I achieved enough? Surely I deserved a break to sit back and admire my work.

The trouble is, one sock is only half a project. It feels like a thing complete in and of itself — you cast onto your needles, you knit (and knit, and knit…), and you bind off. Done, right?

Huh. Half my toes are cold. Something's missing...

Huh. Half my toes are cold. Something’s missing…

Not quite. Unless you want to alternate warm and chilly feet, you’re not there yet. You have reached an ending, but it’s not the end.

Knitters have a name for that feeling of being done with a project at that first, deceptive ending point: Second Sock Syndrome. Making the second item in a pair is not nearly as exciting as making the first one. The newness of the yarn has worn off, I’ve already learned the pattern, and I can’t shake that feeling of “Again? Didn’t I just do this?” — probably because I did just do it. The allure of a completely new project is strong. Couldn’t I just start one of those and come back to the boring second sock later?

And that’s how some first socks never get their mates. There are always fresh projects in the queue, much more exciting than revisiting the sock project that felt finished already. That’s Second Sock Syndrome.

I have learned about myself that I must, absolutely must, make myself begin the second sock the moment I finish the first. I need to take that sense of accomplishment and use it to jump-start the next one. When I take that ending energy and feed it into another beginning, I can get over that hump and keep going until I reach the real end of the work.

Sometimes, life feels like an ongoing series of second socks. We reach a lot of “endings” that aren’t really endings; there is always still work to be done. If we’ve figured out how to take those feelings of culmination and use them to galvanize ourselves to begin again, though, then we have learned something worth knowing.

A beginning and the ending that gave me a push.

A beginning and the ending that gave me a push.

#BlogElul, the brainchild of Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, invites participants to chronicle the month leading up to the Jewish High Holy Days through blog posts, photos, and other social media expressions.

Advertisement

#BlogElul 23: Love

Leave a comment

#BlogElul 2013Love.

My heart brims with it, but the overflow refuses to spill onto my computer screen in the form of a blog post. I type a few sentences, then immediately delete them for their sheer inadequacy in the face of something so big, so transformative, so universe-altering.

I love. I hope you love, too. It may be the best thing we can do with our lives.

#BlogElul, the brainchild of Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, invites participants to chronicle the month leading up to the Jewish High Holy Days through blog posts, photos, and other social media expressions.

#BlogElul 22: Dare

Leave a comment

Our theories will go awry, will all throw dust into our eyes, unless we dare to confront not only the world but the soul as well, and begin to be amazed at our lack of amazement in being alive, at our taking life for granted. Heschel, Abraham Joshua (1976-06-01). Man Is Not Alone: A Philosophy of Religion (Kindle Locations 2307-2309). Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition.

Do we dare to put the same amount of time, effort, and passion into cultivating our sense of wonder that we do into seeking a solid handle by which we can manipulate our physical surroundings? It’s so easy to get caught up in the relentless business — sheer busy-ness — of day-to-day life that we begin to see everything only in terms of its utilitarian value. We start to think we can’t afford the time to engage with the spirit. It doesn’t seem practical, we complain. Aren’t we rational, scientific people? What do we need this woo-woo “soul” talk for, anyway?

If we only look at the world through a scientific or utilitarian filter, I bet that we are missing something important. The rational “gatekeeper” (to borrow a term from Rabbi Zalman Shachter-Shalomi) in my head may tell me I’m being silly to go looking beyond and within for that Something, but I dare to defy her in search of what Heschel called “radical amazement.”

#BlogElul 2013

#BlogElul, the brainchild of Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, invites participants to chronicle the month leading up to the Jewish High Holy Days through blog posts, photos, and other social media expressions.

#BlogElul 21: Change, Part II

Leave a comment

#BlogElul 2013I do not always deal with change gracefully. I have a tough time with upheaval and disruption in my routine. I may transform, briefly and without much warning, into Grumpy McRageface. I have been known to throw things (though never at anyone… so far).

So naturally, I married a military man, thus ensuring that my world would get shaken up like a tacky Navy-themed snow globe with every PCS move. Moreover, I married a pilot, which means that not only do we not find out what he’s doing tomorrow until the afternoon or evening before, but even the official flight schedule often proves to be merely a plan from which to deviate. This set-up is less than ideal for my constitution.

I wish I could be as sanguine about change as some of the more resilient military spouses I know. These are the kind of people who thrive on change, who not only meet the challenges of continual transmogrification, but are actually excited about it. They’d get bored if things fell into a dependable routine, whereas I would be ecstatic.

Maybe.

Sometimes I get a flicker of a hint that perhaps I am finally adapting to having to adapt and re-adapt so often. In our most recent move, I found myself feeling eager for the adventure more often as I felt out-of-whack from the process of dismantling our life, packing it up, and starting over someplace new. Our Jewish tradition has some advice for how to deal with a change of location over which we have no control, and we find it in the person of Abraham. When God said “Lekh-lekha, go forth,” he trusted that the uprooting of his life from all he had known would wind up being a good change.

I need to trust that the changes my future holds will also turn out for the best.

#BlogElul, the brainchild of Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, invites participants to chronicle the month leading up to the Jewish High Holy Days through blog posts, photos, and other social media expressions.

#BlogElul 20: Judge

Leave a comment

We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

#BlogElul 2013My assessment of myself takes into account things that never gone beyond the confines of my own skull. Thoughts, feelings, intentions — they’re all real to me, even if nobody else may subject them to scrutiny.

If I judge myself more kindly because of all the times I thought really hard about donating to this charity or volunteering for that cause, is that a realistic assessment of myself if I never made my nice thought into a concrete action in the world?

If I judge myself harshly for the nasty remarks that flitted across my mind or the anger that flared within me, even though I refrained from saying something hurtful, is that a true appraisal of myself?

The word l’hitpalel, usually rendered in English as “to pray,” actually means “to judge oneself.” Perhaps the One to Whom I pray can help me figure out how to balance the actions that others see with what I know I am capable of doing, and thus help me see myself more clearly.

#BlogElul, the brainchild of Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, invites participants to chronicle the month leading up to the Jewish High Holy Days through blog posts, photos, and other social media expressions.