What a Tangled Web we Weave or Knit

I thought I'd whip out an adorable scarf before dinner time. The skein of new yarn boasted an easy pattern with a thick chennile type feel with faux fur puff balls sprinkled around.  I'd paid only $7 and it seemed like a Christmas gift waiting to be hand-made.  The directions guided me to roll the yarn in a ball prior to stitching.  Always a bit impatient to get started, I was tempted to skip the advice.  But with only 60 yards of delightfulness, it would be a quick job.

It took me about a yard a minute to get my tangled mass of yarn into a usable ball.  I was tempted to return it to the store, but didn't.  I was tempted to rip and begin again, but I stayed true and steady to the job at hand. This was a special Christmas gift being made by loving hands -- right? I just wanted to knit and see how it would look as it began to take shape.  I just wanted to see that I'd accomplished something today that was obvious and visible!

Finally, I began to see that I was making headway. My slow and steady approach was begining to make a difference.  A rhythm of sorts was created as my hands found ways through the maze. Gentleness won over frustration as the integrity of the yarn wasn't harmed by the detangling. I actually began to enjoy the process. 

The last foot of yarn was wrapped and a ball ripe with potential lay on my lap. I hadn't even started to knit and already, I felt like I'd made progress. 

My husband came home and asked about dinner.  He didn't know about my heroic yarn effort yet, because if he did, he certainly wouldn't have had the audacity to inquire about something that paled in significance to my yarn challenge.

So much of life is the journey.  We want to hurry up and get to the thing that we want to enjoy. When we are a child, we want to get to Christmas or our birthday. When we are a teen -- the driver's license is the mighty goal. When I have a good job, when my career takes off, when I  have a baby, when that baby is potty trained, when I finally lose weight, when . . . . THEN I will begin to enjoy. The destination isn't the thing, the journey is the thing.

I wonder how much of life is taken up by the arrival at the destination -- I bet it is such a small percentage of our lives that it would discourage us to know how few of our life moments are considered those "I have arrived" and "All is well with the world" moments.

 I am quite sure that the journey -- the life in progress moments, where we are untangling life and preparing ourselves take up most of our life.  It makes sense that we strive to enjoy those run on moments that both delight and frustrate, challenge and renew us. It is the every day stuff that makes up most of life.