I like to knit. I like how you can never forget how to knit. I like the idea of creating something through your knitting.
What I don’t like though is rolling yarn. I got a large box of yarn for Christmas and spent about a week rolling all of them.
Yarn comes in many shapes and sizes, all varying in difficulty of rolling-ness. The easiest way to roll them is to pull out the yarn end from the middle of it and pull – and commence the rolling.
In my many hours of rolling and many hand cramps, I have realized that rolling yarn, the act of rolling it, and the yarn ball itself, is a lot like life.
Yes, life. I’m comparing a ball of yarn to life. Just hear me out.
It starts off small, and rolling it is quick and easy. It doesn’t matter how you roll it now, because since it’s so small it doesn’t matter.
Eventually you’ll start getting impatient, right? So you’ll start rolling it faster, faster, faster, until your hand slips and a large ribbon of yarn falls off the ball. Then you have to pause, untangle the ribbon, and re-roll it, kind of like fixing your mistakes after plowing through life too quickly.
If you start the ball off too loosely, the ball of yarn will be really big, and it gets hard to hold. Of course, you gotta get the job done, so you gotta keep rolling that ball of yarn. Your hand will cramp, all that nasty stuff, and the process is slowed, kind of like trying to live with the wrong start in life.
But you can’t roll it too tightly for too long, as your hand will cramp anyway. See, no matter what, your hand will cramp, so it’s best to anticipate it with a warm towel or something (I just played some computer games). Just like how you need vacations in life or else you’ll just be crawling through life, suffering every inch of the way.
I think the point I’m trying to make is that when you spend two hours a day rolling yarn covered in dirt and horse hairs you start to see life differently.