This is what I do

Too often lately the world has simply not made sense to me. There is so much happening that I just can't wrap my head around. Some of these things hit close to home - good people who are getting a sh*tty hand dealt to them that they don't deserve. Some are not close to home - I see it on the news, I read about it on twitter - and yet they tug at my heart strings and make my head hurt because I can. not. make. sense. of. it.

Sometimes life really sucks. And is completely unfair. Sometimes my heart hurts so much I think it will break forever. Sometime, too much of the time actually, this makes me feel like I am walking a fine line between being sad and being depressed. Like, if I just hear one more piece of bad news, I will go lay down in bed and not get out ever again.

I don't. Even when I really want to. Because laying in bed can't heal those who need it, can't help those who are hurting, and can't make a difference at the end of the day. Often, though, I don't know what I can. I can offer my words. Sometimes I can offer a ride somewhere or a meal or some prayers or good thoughts. This never feels like enough, despite the fact that these things offered to me when I was diagnosed with cancer were a huge blessing. But I want to do more. I wonder why can't I eradicate cancer, pain, hate, sadness, etc. Herein lies the vicious circle I often get stuck in - all of this leads to an increase in anxiety for me. Sadness = anxiety = sadness = anxiety. My brain gets stuck on why I can't do more.

But I think that if it were that easy to get rid of the "bad" things, they'd be gone already. I can't take the bad away. I can't heal the sick or the broken or the struggling. I can offer my words. A meal. A ride. Even when it doesn't feel like enough, it is what I can do.

I can also knit. So I pick up my knitting needles. I grab yarn out of my box. And I knit. Using two needles, I turn a long piece of yarn into something - a scarf, a blanket, a shawl, a shirt, something, anything. I knit. Then I often give what I make away. This is what I do. Knitting makes sense to me, when other things do not. Knitting brings me happiness, even when I'm sad. It's something. It doesn't fix everything, but it helps. It helps me. I hope it helps those I've shared my knitting with.

I also like to walk (or more accurately to pace). Moving, stepping, it calms the anxiety. It gives me a place to funnel that buzzing energy feeling I get with the anxiety. It's easy and even when I'm not feeling physical strong or great, I can walk usually.

All of this to say this weekend I spent a lot of time walking. And a lot of time knitting. And sometimes I was walking and knitting. I know, I know. It probably looks strange. And normally I'm pretty klutzy, but knitting just makes sense to me in ways I can't explain and it feels natural to do, even when I'm walking. Somehow I manage to not trip on the yarn or poke myself with the needles.

This is what I do. It might not make sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to me.