Limbo

You know how they say that life imitates art or art imitates life? I feel like I’m the living embodiment of that saying right about now. My life, while wonderful, is at a bit of a crossroads. I’m making the transition from dependent student and child to a self-sufficient working adult. Or at least attempting to. Currently I find myself in limbo, trying to push forward yet hesitating. There is a part of me that is dragging its heels, unwilling to wholly let go of the convenience and safety of childhood. But this is warring against another, bolder side that’s ready to take on the challenges of life, no matter how much adversity I am faced with; it is she who is responsible for my staying in Winona even now after my college career is ended. Instead of moving home to my sleepy Illinois town of Marengo, I decided some time ago that I would continue enjoying everything that Winona has to offer: the theatre and film festivals, the coffee shops and museums, and river and bluffs we’re surrounded by, and of course the little yarn store I just happen to work at. While the decision to stay was a relatively easy one to make, the means on which I’ll be living are a little more… how can I put this poetically… ambiguous. At the moment I have enough, more than enough even. I’m happy, healthy and in the scheme of things I don’t have much to worry about. But I confess that I lie awake sometimes while my mind creates countless scenarios in which I fail to accomplish the things I most want to do, and therefore fail in providing for myself. The morning brings a clear mind and my usual sunny self, but the shadow of a doubt always exists even on my brightest days.

But how does this deep, pessimistic chatter relate to art, you ask? Well, this limbo I’m in has begun to extend past my circumstances and into the pieces that I’m knitting. In all of the projects that I’m currently working on I’m stuck. In my defense, I’m waiting for back-ordered yarn to arrive to continue with one of them, but I have no valid explanation for halting my progress on the others. For some reason, my feet are dragging and I find myself unwilling to work on or finish the things on my needles. Yes non-knitters, most of us crazy yarn people have upwards of two or three projects going at once. I have attempted to explain my procrastination with several unconvincing excuses such as: this project is too boring, I really hate this pattern, it’s too hard, this is taking too long, and (my personal favorite) I just got this new yarn and I can’t wait even the smallest amount of time to work with it. So yes, I have completed several other things during my time of project stagnancy, but those unfinished items are still there quietly mocking my success. Alright, I might be getting a little carried away, but my frustration at their unfinished state is growing. And unfortunately I only have myself to blame for this. Mirroring my attitude toward my transitioning life, I want to move on, but my other less logical side is unwilling to take the necessary measures.

Limbo really isn’t the best place to be. I’m hoping that I’ll soon snap out of it, finishing and figuring out what I need to both in knitting and in life. It will take planning and determination, but I won’t stay in a state of unknown and immobility my entire life. There are so many new patterns to try, yarns to create with, and experiences to have. Possibilities stretch out before me and while it’s a little frightening, my heart also leaps with anticipation. I can only hope that soon my two warring sides will come to terms with one another and then I might be able to move from this place of limbo and settle into the life I will create for myself.