The other day a package arrived in the mail--a scarf from my friend Penny in Australia. Penny taught me how to knit (you may remember this largely fictionalized account). The real story is this:
When I lived in Perth, Dan (then boyfriend) and I lived next to a perpetually drunk, very hairy guy named James. Late one night James and his friends got into a fight outside his door. Dan called the cops, who would take forever to show up, and he wanted to get me out of there because it was clearly getting dangerous—multiple drunk men in a total brawl. Dan had his big-bouncer friend to come over. It was especially scary because we had to cross James’ door to get down the stairs. When the coast was clear, I ran out and down the steps to Penny’s car and Bouncer-Friend ran up to stay with Dan.
Dan and Tiny waited inside for the cops to come. I went to Penny’s and worried about them, and Penny didn’t know what the hell to do with me, so she gave me a couple drinks and tried to teach me to knit.
It was calming in a way that only a woman-bond can be in times of trouble. I’ve struggled with some women-friendships lately, but when it comes down to it, nothing on Earth comes close to female-female friendship. Maybe talking the bond sounds cliché, but… there’s something about it that is insanely powerful, beyond words and vital to all humanity. We get each other on some intangible wavelength. We piss one another off. We forgive. We have fun. As crazy (crazy-good and crazy-bad) women can be, there’s something esoteric and healing going on.
There’s also something to knitting—the ritual of it—that is healing. Mind you, I don’t like knitting at all. I suck at it, I have no patience and have no interest in reigning in my fire-y distain for needle-crafts long enough to get a cool sweater out of the deal. But I get why people do it. There’s something really important about repetitive action, especially combined with creativity, that gives it merit. It’s unfortunate that I have no patience for detail and always end up chucking the whole yarny mess out the window.
In my creative process class, we learned that the mind does its best work when the part of the brain that manages tasks is occupied. This is exactly why we have our best ideas when we’re showering, when we wash dishes, when we’re walking. This is why Einstein came up with E=MC2 when he was shaving. This is why you think of Olivia Newton John’s name when you’re brushing your teeth instead of when you’re on the spot during a heated game of Trivial Pursuit. (Totally happened.)
Back to the story: The cops came and hauled off the neighbor and his belligerent friends. Dan and his friend were unharmed and came to pick me up the next morning. Penny and I became even better friends after that.
Penny finished knitting the scarf she started that night and then she mailed it to me…. in winter of 2003. It arrived four and a half years after she mailed it.
Things with a couple troubled friendships are going well--good conversations are happening and it’ll be fine. In the middle of the difficulty, though, out of nowhere, Penny’s scarf arrived in my mailbox. If that’s not the Universe sending me a big reminder about how worth it it is to work things out, well, I don’t know what is.
When I lived in Perth, Dan (then boyfriend) and I lived next to a perpetually drunk, very hairy guy named James. Late one night James and his friends got into a fight outside his door. Dan called the cops, who would take forever to show up, and he wanted to get me out of there because it was clearly getting dangerous—multiple drunk men in a total brawl. Dan had his big-bouncer friend to come over. It was especially scary because we had to cross James’ door to get down the stairs. When the coast was clear, I ran out and down the steps to Penny’s car and Bouncer-Friend ran up to stay with Dan.
Dan and Tiny waited inside for the cops to come. I went to Penny’s and worried about them, and Penny didn’t know what the hell to do with me, so she gave me a couple drinks and tried to teach me to knit.
It was calming in a way that only a woman-bond can be in times of trouble. I’ve struggled with some women-friendships lately, but when it comes down to it, nothing on Earth comes close to female-female friendship. Maybe talking the bond sounds cliché, but… there’s something about it that is insanely powerful, beyond words and vital to all humanity. We get each other on some intangible wavelength. We piss one another off. We forgive. We have fun. As crazy (crazy-good and crazy-bad) women can be, there’s something esoteric and healing going on.
There’s also something to knitting—the ritual of it—that is healing. Mind you, I don’t like knitting at all. I suck at it, I have no patience and have no interest in reigning in my fire-y distain for needle-crafts long enough to get a cool sweater out of the deal. But I get why people do it. There’s something really important about repetitive action, especially combined with creativity, that gives it merit. It’s unfortunate that I have no patience for detail and always end up chucking the whole yarny mess out the window.
In my creative process class, we learned that the mind does its best work when the part of the brain that manages tasks is occupied. This is exactly why we have our best ideas when we’re showering, when we wash dishes, when we’re walking. This is why Einstein came up with E=MC2 when he was shaving. This is why you think of Olivia Newton John’s name when you’re brushing your teeth instead of when you’re on the spot during a heated game of Trivial Pursuit. (Totally happened.)
Back to the story: The cops came and hauled off the neighbor and his belligerent friends. Dan and his friend were unharmed and came to pick me up the next morning. Penny and I became even better friends after that.
Penny finished knitting the scarf she started that night and then she mailed it to me…. in winter of 2003. It arrived four and a half years after she mailed it.
Things with a couple troubled friendships are going well--good conversations are happening and it’ll be fine. In the middle of the difficulty, though, out of nowhere, Penny’s scarf arrived in my mailbox. If that’s not the Universe sending me a big reminder about how worth it it is to work things out, well, I don’t know what is.
3 comments:
I'll second that, Cavu. Wonderful post.
Your bloggery is shiny and wonderful lately, sister friend. Thank you!
You see, I've wondered abou that--the task-occupying brain bit, not the four-year parcel delivery.
When I was in college and reading a particularly dry text (my reading comprehension os of the charts so it takes a particularly dry, dense, dull, and poor writer to numb my mind) I found it was easier to read as I ate a bag of popcorn. Once the bag was finished, my mind started wandering again.
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