half double crochet...

i woke up monday with the weight of failure heavy on my shoulders.  i knew what it was stemming from but i am still surprised that this day still has a grip on me.  it would have been my thirteenth wedding anniversary.  unlucky number 13. 

i have officially been divorced three years.  i am happy to report that the grip is loosening.  the first year that my wedding anniversary passed i was kind of a wreck.  well actually a lot a wreck. true to form i memorialized my feelings that first year.  although i still feel like a failure, especially on that day, i never shed a tear or really sat back to examine my feelings.

i'm not sure how many of you are knitters or crocheters, but my life, and probably any human who has started something that didn't quite turn out and had to switch gears, can relate to what i am about to describe.

yarning a blanket, a sweater, a cap, booties, what have you, requires that you follow a pattern.  you must gather all the required materials; correct size needles/hooks, the correct weight of yarn and the correct amount plus extra in case you make a mistake, the pattern, some patience and oodles of time.  once you gather everything you sit down and start yarning, deciphering the creators pattern, and watching it come to life.  sometimes you get stuck, and if you are me, you put it down, walk away and try again later.  sometimes you make mistakes and have to rip out what you just yarned and try again until you get it correct.  and then sometimes you feel like you are creating a masterpiece only to be unsatisfied with what you've created and unravel the whole thing, rewind the yarn, and save it for a different project.

this is how i feel about the progression of my adult life.  i spent a great deal of time crafting what I hoped would be a masterpiece, making mistakes and having to try again, only to be unsatisfied with what i was creating.  after deciding to switch gears, i spent that first year unraveling my life into a ginormous pile of tangled yarn heaped on the ground.  the next year i carefully untangled and rewound that pile into a manageable ball.  and this year i am creating something new.  there is bound to be mistakes because i have misread the directions and i will need to try again, but i am in the process of creating something beautiful.

so, my marriage may not have been successful and the significance of my wedding day will probably always be shrouded with a feeling of failure, but if i can stay focused on this new creation instead of being frustrated with the mistake, good things are bound to emerge.