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With these frigid winter temperatures, I caught a bit of a chill this morning. As I walked over to my wooden rocker, I reached for the familiar blue shawl that I knit ten years ago.

The beautiful Cherry Tree Hill wool it was made from was an unexpected gift from my husband.

This is how my shawl came to be:

Using a diamond shaped pattern that I’ve had previous success with, I wound the 1000 yards of royal blue yarn with confidence and high expectations.

After several days of knitting I experienced my first glitch.

Something was wrong.

One of the diamonds shapes was not quite right. It was wonky, and leaned to the right.

I showed my daughter and she said everything looked fine.

Still, I fretted.

Sensing my frustration my daughter then offered to rip back the stitches and repair it for me.

Wanting to figure it out for myself, I declined her kind offer.

After an hour of reworking the stitches, I was finally satisfied enough with the results to move on.

And yet, every now and again, I found myself re-visiting that part of the shawl, checking to see if the error was noticeable.

Oddest thing was, that by the time the shawl was finished, it looked perfect.

And so today of course, when I picked up this beautiful blue woollen shawl for the first time in a while, my eyed automatically began to look for discrepancies in the shawl pattern.

I could not find any.

Not one.

It was then that I had an epiphany.

As in knitting, how many mistakes have I made in life that were continually fretted over?

How much anguish did I suffer from them, and at what cost to my health and emotional self worth?

Years later, I can hardly remember them.

In the end, those mistakes that had kept me awake nights, turned out to be just “glitches.”

And as we all know, there are always “glitches.”

And so, hopefully, the next time I find myself about to jump into the sea of remorse and self condemnation, I will think on my perfect blue shawl. Maybe then I’ll stop breathing angst into things that time will completely erase all on it’s own.

That way, I can save my angst for more manageable problems.


…”What should I write about tomorrow?”