All systems no

High tide is coming. (Image by Christel SAGNIEZ)

I haven’t knit or crocheted anything since December.

This isn’t particularly noteworthy except when you consider that I spent dozens of hours per week doing fiber crafts in October and November, completing a cowl, two sweaters and most of a third, multiple washcloths and dish towels, a Christmas ornament, some mittens, a hat, a vest, a doily, a lace trivet, and a market bag.

In short, I was devoted, and then I just stopped.

This doesn’t bother me. I don’t knit for a living or anything. I know I’ll eventually get back to making stuff out of yarn, but right now I’m sort of glad to have the time for other things. When I’m in a knitting phase, I can get a bit obsessed.

I sometimes think about my activities as a mixing board in which the faders are set at different levels:

Image by Tricia Jones

As one comes up, another might come down. If I’m playing a lot of tennis, I’m might be doing less hiking. If I’m very busy with work, I’m definitely neglecting household chores. I can’t do it all, all the time.

I often get asked how I’m able to run multiple businesses. That’s simple: I don’t. I rely on a dedicated team so that each person can, ideally, have a distinct area of focus. Meanwhile, for the projects I’m involved in, I cycle through so that I’m only working on one at a time. These cycles might take weeks or days, but sometimes I have to cycle through in minutes. At any given moment, some of the channels on my metaphorical mixing board are cranked up, and others are muted. That’s just the way it works.

If I find myself feeling concerned about one of those silent, dormant projects, I might need to make a change. Maybe that means delegating that project to someone else, or handing off another project so that I can do the neglected one. But there’s only so much time in the day or week, and I can’t get to all of it. If I tried, life would be very noisy. Sometimes, I have to accept that I may not get to a particular project in the near future—or even in this lifetime.

One of the most beautiful feelings in life is the sense that it’s not long enough for all the things you want to do. When you wish for more time to spend experiencing a particular place, pursuing a particular activity, or enjoying the company of a particular person, you know you’re fully appreciating your precious life, even if it means feeling a pang of regret for the time you spent in ignorance of this person, place, or activity. “Ah, I wish I had done this twenty years ago!” Behind the pain is pleasure.

When it comes to our dreams and aspirations for things we’d like to do, places we’d like to go, and achievements we hope to realize, one choice is to be anxious and fretful about the time that’s running out and our failure to accomplish what we had hoped to. Alternatively, we can embrace the continual, joyful, messy story of our life’s work and play.

I mean, what would we do if we actually got it all done? The unfinished projects, unmet people, and unseen places give us a reason to go on. There’s always another page to turn to see what happens next.

I know I’m never going to be at 100% across the board, and I don’t have to be. There is no one keeping score but me. I can choose to focus on what’s most important to me right now, and ignore the rest. Some projects may go dark until it’s their turn again. That means I have something to look forward to.