I’ve finally reached the point of not tearing everything out.
This is going to be a cowl (aka a neckwarmer), like a warm, woolly scarf but without the annoying dangly bits that fall off your shoulder and catch on things.
I’m not knitting to make things, though. I’m doing it for meditation.
I find it more calming and, so far, better for mindfulness than “listening to the silence” type meditation. When I just sit and breathe the drunken monkey in my head tends to overcome my every effort to sober and quiet it. On the other hand, sitting and counting the pattern while my hands move — 1-2-3-4, purl-2-3-knit, 1-2-3-4, knit-2-3-purl, is guaranteed to keep me in the moment and gradually instill calm.
Kinda nice that it’s also producing something someone will appreciate long about January.
—–
I aimed (and still do) to post from the hermitage about the things going through my mind, the things I’m finding and the things I’m feeling. The last few days I’ve been aching to do exactly that, but it’s all seemed too internal, too inconclusive, too scattered, to “me-oriented,” and frankly too damn whiny to foist upon you.
The other day, while a lot of us were talking about how we once felt (and perhaps still feel) like aliens in the world, Ellendra posted a link about Otherkin — people who believe (or claim to) that they aren’t really human. On first look, there’s a lot to laugh at. I mean, seriously, you think you’re an elf or a fairy or a dragon in human form? You’ve been reading too many fantasy novels.
Still, I found I couldn’t — and didn’t want — to get the concept out of my mind.
For some of us, the sense that we have or had (especially as children or teens) of being fundamentally unlike other people is so pervasive, so deep, and so sincere that there must be something to it. Despite my skepticism and downright scorn, I found I couldn’t get the idea of Otherkin out of my mind.
Maybe the sense of alienness so many of us have felt is just a normal consequence of the old human tragedy: we are born alone and die alone. Or maybe it’s normal in that we perceive our differences from others more strongly than we perceive the things we have in common. (And certainly daily life within institutions — family, tribe, school, church, workplace — is designed to pick out and often painfully emphasize everything that’s non-conforming, even the most small and otherwise unimportant traits, beliefs, appearances, or behaviors.)
Equally certainly, if our more “normal” parents and peers and preachers and teachers don’t feel alien themselves, they desperately, deeply fear the aliens among them. Why else is it so vital to so many that everyone else be more like them? Why do so many insist so urgently that we must dress like them, enjoy the music they enjoy, share their political opinions, believe their religious beliefs, and live their lifestyles?
So in a sense, they’re acknowledging and validating the very thing so many of us have suspected and felt about ourselves. We are alien.
It’s not that big a step from there to conclude you’re really an elf. Never mind that coming to such an unprovable and unlikely conclusion is just another form of striving to belong, another myth to explain away unexplainable human isolation. A myth to make us feel more important and less alone. An explanation, however facile, that keeps us from having to face The Void.
—–
After days of mental muddle, of frustration and an embarrassing amount of self pity, this morning I came out on the other side with an insight. It’s still fairly formless and I haven’t yet found the relationship between this thought and the sense of otherness (though I’m absolutely certain it’s there just under the surface).
It’s about trajectories and patterns.
This cable knitting I’m so entranced with. It’s longer-term trajectories, woven about with smaller, shorter, but intricate patterns. You can see that.
Life is the same, but much harder to see. We launch ourselves (or are launched) on long-term trajectories at major moments. Our heart gets broken and we decide “never again.” We choose medical school over the arts or arts over engineering. A hit-and-run driver inflicts life-altering injuries. We move to another country. We get cancer. We marry. We drop out and bum around the world. We commit a crime whose effects can never be undone. We enter a monastery. We produce a child. We throw caution to the winds and get up on a stage to sing and dance and find it leads us to a whole new life.
Then around the big trajectory, all the little patterns develop. All the smaller choices and events that come from and with the trajectory we chose or that was inflicted upon us.
As with knitting, both the trajectories and the patterns emerge only with time. Unlike knitting, that takes years — decades — lifetimes. Unlike knitting, the trajectories and patterns tend to be chaotic. And unlike knitting, it’s impossible to determine them in advance.
Sometimes you don’t even know when you’re launching (or being launched) onto a major trajectory. Sometimes it’s obvious, with a big decision or event. Other times you don’t even realize that some tiny event or decision was a life-changer until years later. Or you recognize that some big event has changed your life, but only years later do you understand that it changed you in far different ways than you could have anticipated.
One realization I came to is that, at two crucial points in my life, I chose wrong trajectories.
This isn’t about regrets, of which (as the song says) I’ve got a few but too few to mention. This isn’t about the everyday dumb or lazy choices that made me less outwardly successful than I hoped to be. This is about times when I had choices to become — for want of a better word — more my real self. And I chose instead to fit in. Or rather to blend in, even when I felt anything but blended inside.
The first (and biggest) of these choices came when I was 18. I took the “safe” path. And part of me says it was the wisest path. It was the responsible, adult trajectory. The other trajectory (any of the “less safe” choices) might have led to anything from being locked up in the nut ward to early death. On the other hand, making something other than the “safe, responsible, adult” choice might also have led to a bolder, more creative life.
I will never know.
Of course, this is common stuff. The stuff of plenty of science-fictional or fantasy speculations. The stuff of millions of lives. The standard “what if?”
Still … what if I’d acknowledged at 18 that my alienness was real, that I was Otherkin, that I was with but not of “normal” human beings, and damn any notions to the contrary, no matter how “safe,” “normal,” or otherwise tempting?
The road not taken. What might have been or might yet be. The only thing that never changes is the fact that all things change. And all people. Even if we knew what we really wanted, and could see into the future to check on the results, by the time we got there our own perceptions and desires would have changed, along with everything else. This moment, each moment as it arrives, is all we really have to work with…
I’m glad you don’t have many regrets. 🙂
“…what if I’d acknowledged at 18…?”
I can offer a bit of insight on that….you’d have spent the rest of your life defending your authentic self to all those “deemed normal”…..For some reason “they” think we all are to be the same and set out to force it whenever they have the opportunity. And when those times happen it tends to upset your happy vibe until you manage to avoid/scape it LOL.
I don’t have many regrets either but I do wish I’d stop getting myself into situations I’d prefer not to be in. heh.
“Still … what if I’d acknowledged at 18 that my alienness was real, that I was Otherkin, that I was with but not of “normal” human beings, and damn any notions to the contrary, no matter how “safe,” “normal,” or otherwise tempting?”
“What if”, indeed. As an alien I feel that question down to my toes.
And, as every choice has a consequence, WHAT IF you, and all of us, had decided that *we* were the “normal,” and acted accordingly? (Isn’t that what you’re really asking? If alienness is real, then it is normal.) Where would the world be today if all “aliens” had taken the road less traveled? Would more people have acknowledged their alienness and come along with us? Would the institutions and “normalcy” of today’s world been erased before it began?
Quite a think piece, Claire.
~~~
And a question for cable stitchers: They look similar to me. Are there different patterns produced from the cable stitch, or does it result in the one pattern?
Off Topic: Found this on wendymcelroyDOTcom/news:
http://www.ocalapost.com/entire-county-board-arrested-following-citizens-arrest-by-2-military-veterans/
I’ve often wondered what happened to Citizen’s Arrest; I see it’s still alive and well.
This looks as if it’s going to be another one of those where the comment thread goes deeper and is more interesting than the original post. I’m happy to be among such thoughtful aliens.
—–
Pat — Re cable stitches. There is no one cable stitch but dozens of different cable stitches (that is, techniques) involving anywhere from two to, far as I know, 16 stitches (that is, stitches physically on the needles). And those are just the basics, the tools for making cables. They get combined into thousands of unique patterns.
In the Vogue Stitchionary alone (volume 2), there are over 200 swatch patterns.
Here are a few of them: http://www.vogueknitting.com/resources/stitchionary/cables.aspx
Yeah, they all kind of do the same thing — twist and twine. But there’s a whole rich world of cabling, which is why I love it. My neckwarmer uses three basic cabling stitches within two separate patterns.
Aha… now that it’s been pointed out to me, I can see the differences. Thanks. I didn’t know that some patterns I recognize were, in fact, cable stitching.
And they’re gorgeous, aren’t they!
Well, that’s cool, that I now have the term to use for what I’ve always thought a cold-weather scarf should be. Claire, you might just get me to dig out the knitting bag and have at it again. Of course, I’d have to get a little better knitting in the rectangle before trying it in the round. I suppose once you have the basics in place, it’s little different. Ideally, I’d want something that flares significantly at the bottom, such that it sort of lies flat across the tops of the shoulders, and drops a bit down at the front. I liked those designs intended to pull up onto the face as well — very handy at times.
I try to avoid the “what if” questions. We like to imagine things would’ve turned out better if only we’d taken that other choice. There’s one job that I still sometimes kick myself for not taking. But then maybe I’d’ve been hit by a bus crossing the street to go to lunch one day, had I gone there. Less drastically, would I have become acquainted with the same people (some of whom I value highly)? Really, you just don’t know.
“It’s not that big a step from there to conclude you’re really an elf. Never mind that coming to such an unprovable and unlikely conclusion is just another form of striving to belong, another myth to explain away unexplainable human isolation.”
For some, maybe. But speaking personally, it’s more along the lines of “This is the closest word I could find to describe all those wordless things I know deep in my core.”
At the same time, it’s a way of separating. Of emotionally cutting clean.
To normal people, yes, it sounds ridiculous. But then, so does saying you feel like an alien.
What’s the point of being a grown-up if you can’t choose to be ridiculous sometimes?
At times I can get almost overwhelmed by the few “mistakes” I made that changed my life in HUGE ways. But then I look at my daughter and realize she only exists because my life took the exact course it took- mistakes and all- and I can’t regret it. Not really.
But I would like to change some things about the future. Unfortunately, when I have consciously tried to change course, things go terribly wrong and I end up somewhere I don’t want to be. And when I just allow the currents of life to sweep me along… well, things seem to go terribly wrong then, too, also ending up with me in situations I don’t want to be in. There seems to be a theme here. When I step back to observe myself, it seems less bad to just let things happen on their own than to consciously choose things that will end up just as messed up. At least that way I don’t feel like I put in a lot of work to only screw up my life.
That may sound defeatist. But it is sort of freeing. And, no matter what I do, I will still be missing someone I just can’t seem to stop missing, and apparently nothing will change that.
“speaking personally, it’s more along the lines of “This is the closest word I could find to describe all those wordless things I know deep in my core.”
At the same time, it’s a way of separating. Of emotionally cutting clean.”
Good point. And when it comes to Otherkin, I bow to your knowledge and experience. For me, identifying as a mythological creature would just be … how to put it? Reaching or borrowing or trying to put exciting, but familiar images to an otherwise vague and unsettling feeling of differentness. But I love “This is the closest word I could find to describe all those wordless things I know deep in my core.”
“And they’re gorgeous, aren’t they!”
Yes…
Could the Infinity Celtic Knot be incorporated into an item by cable stitching?
http://www.celticcolours.com/celtic-rings-with-braids-in-sterling-silver.aspx
“I try to avoid the “what if” questions.”
Why?
Look, you’re living your life the best you can under the circumstances you’re handed in the 21st C. Your bugout bag is ready, your survival plans are made, your pantry is full and so is your arsenal. And, not being the aggressor, you’re waiting for their next move.
In the meantime, life is not either—or, it’s not EITHER practical OR theoretical. Why can’t it be both?
We are human, after all, and humans THINK. One of the things we think about is the Future; so we ask What If, and debate what Ought To Be. And every choice we make affects the future in some way — not just ourselves, but the entire World As We Know It (part of TEOTWAWKI).
Once upon a time people used to plan for the future. They thought ahead for the next generation’s sake, and in the planning (What If), they spoke of ethical behavior (What Ought To Be). One of the reasons for non-ethical behavior today is because people have become too pragmatic and now-oriented. They don’t see the reason for sustainability of human action.
In this Age Of The Internet we have the opportunity to lay out options for the next generation and be assured that those options will be heard. Why not make use of this opportunity to invest in the future? What Ifs are not impractical; just as we learn from our personal what-ifs, the theoretical what-ifs can be the alarm clock that awakens humans to their responsibility to carry the future forward.
Pat — re the infinity knot: Absolutely that could be cable knitted. If you wanted it to be continuous/infinite as in the ring, you’d have to do it on something like a cowl. Or, if you wanted to do it infinitely on a sweater (that is, going ’round the body) you’d probably need to knit the sweater sideways, rather than the usual bottom-to-top. But that’s very do-able. I have a sideways cable sweater I bought at a thrift store that I just love. (Somebody with more experience might know other ways to do it; I’m a relative knitting n00b.)
Beautiful ring.
I was thinking of around a scarf, or the edging around a pair of wool mittens. (My hands are frequently cold, and I sometimes wear thin texting gloves in the house. A pair of mittens over them would be perfect for outdoors.)
Once upon a time people used to plan for the future. They thought ahead for the next generation’s sake, and in the planning (What If), they spoke of ethical behavior (What Ought To Be). One of the reasons for non-ethical behavior today is because people have become too pragmatic and now-oriented. They don’t see the reason for sustainability of human action.
Wellll…
I almost think it works the other way. We get so obsessed with the future, an planning, and organization, and rules that we get to the point where we expect laws to regulate behavior, making ethics obsolete.
Back in the day if your neighbors needed a barn everybody got together in a barn-raising and built them one.
Today we tend to appoint committees, establish programs, develop procedures, allot funding, and then tune out. Pretty soon everybody who needs a chicken coop or a garage or a storage shed, gets a barn. When the low-bid-contractor barns start falling down because corners get cut we pass laws and set up inspections to prevent corruption. But the laws get coopted by those they apply to and corruption gets worse, and chickens are messy anyway so it’s easier to put the neighbors out of business. And nobody is paying enough attention to care, because government will take care of us. So who needs ethics?
Learn something every day.
cowl (aka a neckwarmer)
Originally a cowl was a hood, like a monk would wear, that could be slipped back to hang around the neck. (I made one for a ReFaire costume; really interesting basic shape) Apparently people liked the look, and started making cowl necklines. So now it can also be a neckwarmer.
Therefore it ties back into your search for simplicity.
…Otherkin.. I had feelings along those lines when I was young.
Now I think I just an old soul. This link describes it/me fairly well.
Have you ever considered it ?
Dan
http://thoughtcatalog.com/koty-neelis/2014/07/14-signs-youre-an-old-soul/
I’m with LarryA. Never have been much of a planner. Have done major things on a whim. Often enough have painted myself into a corner. Oh, well…
My wife is more organized. Drives me nuts sometimes, seeing her worry and work to make sure X happens. Why worry about it? What needs to get done will eventually get done.
[…if our more “normal” parents and peers and preachers and teachers don’t feel alien themselves, they desperately, deeply fear the aliens among them. Why else is it so vital to so many that everyone else be more like them?]
I don’t look at it that way. Parents particularly, just want what is best for their children, and think conforming is the more reliable way to that (and that may in fact be statistically true). I doubt fear is involved, so much as concern.
People who get along with others can be happy. I don’t doubt it for a minute, even though I am an “outlier” myself.
[One realization I came to is that, at two crucial points in my life, I chose wrong trajectories.]
I have a hard time looking at it this way. I might say, “Things might have been easier if I’d not taken this path,” but I rarely get even that judgmental. Why second-guess yourself? At most, take a few lessons from experience and move on without too much worry.
As to regretting taking the respectable path, it rarely occurs to me to take it, much less regret it. 🙂 On the other hand, I guess I an schizophrenic because I sometimes say to myself, “Just because you can do X doesn’t mean you should do X.” But the reluctance is never tied to conformity, but more with avoiding being a dumb ass.
But then I just got done reading a quite valid reason to conform:
http://www.itstactical.com/intellicom/mindset/gray-man-strategies-101-peeling-away-the-thin-veneer-of-society/
But that is for a specific purpose, not just to be acceptable to others…
My wife, after buying something, keeps watching the price of the thing and gets upset if she could have got it cheaper. I keep asking her, why is she watching prices after she has bought? The last thing I want to know is that I could have got it cheaper. It doesn’t improve my mood. I tend not to question choices I made in the past. Life just rolls over me like a wave on the beach. 🙂
“I’m with LarryA. Never have been much of a planner.”
I guess it depends on your definition of “planning”, doesn’t it?
A bugout bag in your car at all times is planning — as is stocking up on ammo, or buying an emergency generator. Filling the refrigerator with food you most enjoy is planning — along with growing your own veggies to can, freeze, or dehydrate for future use. Saving for anything — kid’s education, vacation next summer, a new mattress — is planning; likewise the decision NOT to use credit, but only cash, is planning how best to handle your money. Trust funds, life insurance (are they even bought anymore?), making a living will, setting up pre-death funeral arrangements are all a part of planning.
Big or little, important or not, we plan how we want to live. When we extend it into the future, we acknowledge that we _have_ a future, or at least want a future for those we love.
We may have lost trust in the present, but we still leave ourselves open to hope with every decision we make. We may not have hope for the U.S., but we have hope for ourselves with every gulch that’s built, every change we make in our lives. _Planning_ gives us hope; without hope, we have no initiative to re-structure our life to improve it.
Plan, for sure. Plan also what you could do when plan “A” is no longer feasible. Plan “B” might also be bolstered by plan “C”… Plan to be flexible. Things change. 🙂 A “plan” that no longer works for you can certainly be a trap and a snare.
I used to plan endlessly, meticulously, in great detail. These days I’m much more like Paul. Maybe that is just the perspective of age. ??
Guess I should have been clearer.
There’s nothing wrong with planning, and particularly not with being prepared. Learned that as a Boy Scout. 😉
It’s when you rely on “society” or “government” to do the planning for you, when you abandon your responsibility to be ethical, and choose to live by the minimum standard that is the law.
In Hunter Education we quote Aldo Leopold: Ethical behavior is doing the right thing when nobody is looking-even when doing the wrong thing is legal.