When you walk through the garden . . . *

knitting 3

Things are overwhelming.

Cancer is the devil. Since the last time I posted, I’ve learned that two people dear to me will probably die from it in the next days or weeks and that one precious friend is facing it again, after fighting a long, hard battle to beat it once already.

And work. I’m so grateful to have it, but the stress is huge.

And the world. Ohhh, the world . . . I’m trying to remember to breathe, do yoga, eat healthy food, get enough sleep, love on the dogs and Augie, take at least a little time to touch base with the wise people in my life, and of course, knit.


This morning, I was in serious focus mode: “This 45 minutes, in between all of these other things, will be spent dedicated to making progress on this particular work thing.” During the 45 minutes, I got two separate texts about two new and complex obligations that have to be added to a schedule that feels like it’s already unworkable.

For a second I was teetering on the edge . . . but then I put the texts out of my mind as well as I could, finished out my 45 minutes of work, and like I was reaching for a life raft, picked up my knitting. I actually set an alarm for ten minutes so I wouldn’t have to keep looking at the clock, and I knitted on the  Smooth Operator socks I’d cast on last night. 

Smooth Operator Socks CO

It helped.

I’m saying this here because it’s been six days since I posted, and I didn’t want to just disappear. It’s also a note to my future self: knit. I can’t imagine I could ever forget that, but just in case . . .

The other thing I’d like to mention for the record is this huge life lesson: Cut everyone you’ve ever known a ton of slack. Give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Assume people mean well, and hope they will know that you do too.

This is such a cliche, but I’m understanding it in a way I never was able to before. My younger self somehow felt on top of everything, all the information, mine, yours, theirs. If I didn’t know, it was just that I needed to find out, think more about it, ask some questions. I didn’t even realize I thought this way. But now, as I face new challenges and I see people I love face challenges that my younger self just flat didn’t have the wherwithal to imagine, I realize how much every single one of us needs a break.


*Way Down in the Hole


  1. Jay Jarman

    I’m sorry for your stress and I so sorry for your friends. Please PM me your friends names if you’d like us to light a luminary for them. You’ll be in my thoughts.

  2. Thanks for being so honest! Cancer does suck. I lost my very best friend to it three years ago and not a day goes by that I don’t miss her and wish she were still here. Not to mention the countless others in my family / life that have lost their lives or are currently battling various forms. Sending thoughts of healing, love and prayers to you and your friends. BTW, loving your Smooth Operators. The color is divine.

    • melinda

      Thank you so much for your sweet comment, Paula. I’m so sorry you lost such a close friend. The words just don’t seem adequate to express any of it, do they? We need some sort of primal sound to help us voice the anguish. I appreciate the good energy and am sending it your way as well. The Smooth Operators in this set of stripes are definitely making me smile.

  3. Wow. That is quite a burden to be carrying. I am glad that you are making a point of carving out time to take care of yourself. It’s so easy to get overwhelmed by everything and just do, do, do until you just can’t do any more.

    I’ve nominated you for the Creative Blogger Award:) See details here: https://alexandknits.wordpress.com/2016/07/23/creative-blogger-award-nomination/ Don’t worry about participating if you don’t want to/don’t have the bandwidth to. I just wanted you to know I appreciate your writing and your blog.

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