Rekindle the Flame

My mom taught me how to knit a long time ago.  I rekindled the flame, after a long absence of knitting, when she brought me to a sheep farm festival in the summer of 2011.  It was soooooooo inspiring and comforting, I thought to myself, people really make a living doing this stuff?  The owner of Sheepstuff is originally from New Zealand, a place I’ve always dreamt of going and where sheep outnumber humans.  What is it about sheep that is so comforting?  Or fluffy stuff for that matter (i.e. kitty). Always, I’ve just been drawn to fluff and Sheepstuff rekindled the flame.  After many months, my mom and I revisited the farm and we got a personal one on one therapy session on what our ambitions are in life and that she doesn’t want to see me when I’m 40 “bored.” She’s right.  Maybe that’s why I was drawn back to the farm (except in this case curiosity didn’t kill the cat; it raised it from the dead.) Her textiles are superior, her passion, contagious.  She had found her life’s passion.

So where did that bring me?  I bought 5 skeins of her yarn, tried and tried again at knitting something worthy of selling myself, and believing in the light at the end of this tunnel.  The flame keeps me afloat.  It keeps me wondering and dreaming, in a time where many lose it.  Ms. Sheepstuff doesn’t do it for the money.  She does it because if she didn’t, she would lose it. So I will learn to accept the place where I rest.  The resting place of sitting in a chair knitting away at a pair of socks that may or may not sell.  And I brainstorm and talk it over what it is inside me that could make a viable income. Not that the income is the light but that it is possible to do something that brings out passion, hope, and truth.

Last night I went to a class at WCC in the Cottage Food Industry.  It rekindled a flame.  It made me think of my late grandmother again and how I would sell zucchini bread from one of her recipes at my mom’s tent sale.  There are others that can support you, if you let them, if you seek it out. 

What is your flame?  How can it be rekindled, held gently, protected from outside forces that tear away at the soul? I may not know what is ahead, but I do know that I cling, now, to the flame that brings me comfort and rest in a time of uncertainty.

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