Sometimes I feel concerned that I am not 'changing the world.' My best life happens in a quiet gentle way, it seems, and yet there are plenty of thumbs in my back pushing me to be a change agent, a leader, a world influencer.
But I feel a smaller, quieter voice calling me to the gentle life. Calling me to go quietly, to plow my field with oxen instead of a high powered tractor with air conditioning. Calling me to knit with fine knitting needles.Some people knit their life with big fat knitting needles. Progress is fast. Resources are used up quickly, maximized, renewed. What is created is big.
There is a set of these knitting needles in my closet. I have used them. I knit at a furious pace, clicking away and drawing interest from others as my large patterns came into view.
Now I knit with very fine needles. The pace is slow. I often have to pause and really look at my work to see what is being made. Not many people stand around watching me. And more than likely my needles end up stuck into the ball of wool while I answer the door and listen to children who look at me with sticky faces and tell me about their adventures.
I think I am okay with this.