Thresholds

I went on a brilliant retreat last weekend with Anna from https://www.livelightdwelldeep.org/ and the Contemplative Fire community of which I am a Companion (https://contemplativefire.org/). It was called “In Between” and was all about St Brigid and thresholds; in between spaces, moments, seasons. We are currently in between winter and spring. On the brink.

On the retreat I found myself knitting in solitude quite a bit. And appropriately, a very short poem that has been brewing for sometime finally took form and was birthed on the retreat. It resonates with home and the threshold to our home, and also with recently shared experiences of seasons of knitting and not knitting, and with the fact that trains regularly speed past the retreat place where we were, like carriages of the liminal.

Ironically, I find myself on a train, knitting, half a week later, sharing this poem (maybe this is just part of a longer poem? I’m not sure yet):

I am knitting
I’m not knitting because I am waiting;
I am knitting because I have arrived.