L is for...

Limitations.

We all have them.  The difficulty lies not only in recognizing them, but in respecting them.

Sometimes, limits are meant to be pushed.  Often, that is how growth is encouraged and realized.  Putting ourselves or our children just a little bit out of the comfort zone to master a newly emerging skill enables us to either celebrate success or learn where more work is needed.

Other times, there are limits that must be respected.  Those of us with chronic physical conditions have to heed our limitations and work within them to stay healthy and safe.  Children with emotional challenges present special circumstances, because it can be especially difficult deciding which limits to push – including when and how hard – and which to leave in place. 

Girlie is sensitive to loud noises; she always has been.  In primary school, the cafeteria was torture, and eventually the staff learned there were days when it was better to let her eat in the office.  Before a scheduled fire drill, someone would get her out of class and take her for a walk outside.  By the time she was in elementary school, she was able to deal with those situations better, but would be emotionally fragile the rest of the day.  We spent years dealing with nightly hysteria around the Fourth of July.  Now, she can tolerate fireworks displays when she can see them, but the fireworks for days before and after Independence Day, when folks are having fireworks in our rural area, wear her out.  The surprise explosions keep her in hyper-startle mode for days.

She is in middle school now, and learning to advocate for herself.  Although she is still stressed or fearful in noisy surroundings or by some sounds in particular, she can often talk her way through it.  Did I get that?  No; in fact, what with those expectations I keep referring to, it’s taken me far too long to understand that Girlie really doesn’t want to go see the latest show (dark theater and surround-sound at maximum volume, anyone?) and is much happier waiting for the DVD.  She gets it.  She doesn’t want to go to the school concerts, and why didn’t I realize that the reason she was chattering all during the introductions is because she was about to get hysterical when the music started?  She gets it.  No matter how much she admires the beautiful costumes, she doesn’t want to go to the ballet and be surrounded by crashing applause.  She gets it.  Finally, thankfully, Mom gets it, too.

In knitting, the only real limitations we have are those we impose upon ourselves.  Once we’re comfortable with a few basic stitches, we have the building blocks for pretty much any pattern.  Eventually, though, I realized it’s better for me to recognize what I need from knitting, not just what I want.  Although I love the look of beautiful stranded fairisle colorwork, I don’t want to deal with multiple yarns and a pattern that needs my full attention every minute.  Even though I enjoy the occasional cable and really admire traditional Aran sweaters, I can’t see myself getting much pleasure out of the process.  I became a much happier knitter when I limited my knitting to my comfort zone, even if I do still look wistfully through the pattern books.  Maybe someday, but right now, I’ll just let the yarn do the work.

'Waving Not Drowning' Pattern by Violet Green knitted with Sockotta Striped Effect Yarn