Middlemarch is becoming my oasis, my little-bit-of-heaven wherever I am. I can dip into it in the waiting room of a doctor's office, on the sofa with a baseball game playing, on my lunch hour at That Place, anywhere. Eliot will be there to illuminate the consciousness of a character or the character of a place with her adagio alto. I'll admire her compassion and her wit, and I will be grateful for the dense prose that gives me everything I need without stifling my own sensibility or imagination.
My other oasis is a newfound love of lace knitting. I'm doing a very simple lace pattern, Vine Lace, from Barbara Walker's first collection, and it is turning out to be one of the most meditative things I've ever done. Now I'm thinking of doing the Branching Out scarf from Knitty, perhaps in the orchid colorway from here. I have already ordered cornflower-colored yarn from Knitpicks for a simple triangular lace shawl. And I can feel my blood pressure getting lower.....
It's good that I can find meditative things to do besides meditating. Actual meditating makes me nervous. If I meditate for a few days, my already-hyperactive nerves become utterly jagged. Colors become too bright, sounds too sharp; my skin prickles. I need to get out of my own head, not further into it. Knitting and reading are perfect for me.
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