Knot that way (Week 27)
"Even though you tie a hundred knots, the string remains one."
So true, Rumi. I knew there was something more deep and mystical in the words of the 13th century Persian poet, but it was eluding me when I first read it. Then, after tying hundreds of knots for a week while on an epic cycling/camping adventure with my son, it began to dawn on me. I started looking at the string as the straight line connecting our home in Victoria with our goal in San Francisco, and every knot as a challenge along the way. Each time, Nic and I were able to "untie the knot" and keep the string unbroken.
My week of knot-tying started out as a practical objective. First, I had never really learned to tie any, despite several years in Boy Scouts and many more as an active hiker and camper. So I knew that learning to tie knots was a great life skill that I needed to add to my repertoire. I started by reading an article about 17 essential life-saving knots. Then I popped into my local MEC store and found a great little pocket-sized knot tying guide called Pro-Knot to stuff in my panniers.
The second practical consideration is simply having something to do. On some days, Nic and I would arrive in our campsite earlier than expected. Having abandoned his smartphone before setting out, he was always content to sit at a picnic table or in the tent reading The Jungle Book (highly recommended while travelling!) Me, I got a little more restless, and needed something to do with my hands. So I would pull out my handy guide and my piece of rope and begin tying knots.
I can't tell you how stimulating this seemingly boring pastime can be. At first, some knots seem hopelessly complicated (I'm looking at you, Figure Eight and Butterfly!) Worse, you can't even imagine yourself ever needing it in a real-life situation. Then, the zen of moving your hands with a piece of rope takes over and you begin to see what you're doing more as art than necessity.
Speaking of which, shortly after Nic and I arrived in San Francisco, we found ourselves in the Maritime Museum down by Fisherman's Wharf. There, in a display case, was a collection of very artistic knots. Apparently this was called Fancywork by sailors, and they are as beautiful as they are functional. Looking back at my own humble attempts at knot tying, I realized there was a serious gulf between the novice and the devotee. It also made me wonder if those knotters of yore saw the same wisdom in their craft as the sage Sumi once did.
Having arrived at last at the end of an unbroken string, I reflected on the knots we had encountered along the way. Continuing with the metaphor, once you know how a knot is tied, you also know how it is untied.
Let the string remain unbroken.
NEXT WEEK: Pedalling at least 50 miles (80km) every day!
PS Since writing this, my buddy Jon has put me onto a great animated knot site.
So true, Rumi. I knew there was something more deep and mystical in the words of the 13th century Persian poet, but it was eluding me when I first read it. Then, after tying hundreds of knots for a week while on an epic cycling/camping adventure with my son, it began to dawn on me. I started looking at the string as the straight line connecting our home in Victoria with our goal in San Francisco, and every knot as a challenge along the way. Each time, Nic and I were able to "untie the knot" and keep the string unbroken.
My week of knot-tying started out as a practical objective. First, I had never really learned to tie any, despite several years in Boy Scouts and many more as an active hiker and camper. So I knew that learning to tie knots was a great life skill that I needed to add to my repertoire. I started by reading an article about 17 essential life-saving knots. Then I popped into my local MEC store and found a great little pocket-sized knot tying guide called Pro-Knot to stuff in my panniers.
The second practical consideration is simply having something to do. On some days, Nic and I would arrive in our campsite earlier than expected. Having abandoned his smartphone before setting out, he was always content to sit at a picnic table or in the tent reading The Jungle Book (highly recommended while travelling!) Me, I got a little more restless, and needed something to do with my hands. So I would pull out my handy guide and my piece of rope and begin tying knots.
Speaking of which, shortly after Nic and I arrived in San Francisco, we found ourselves in the Maritime Museum down by Fisherman's Wharf. There, in a display case, was a collection of very artistic knots. Apparently this was called Fancywork by sailors, and they are as beautiful as they are functional. Looking back at my own humble attempts at knot tying, I realized there was a serious gulf between the novice and the devotee. It also made me wonder if those knotters of yore saw the same wisdom in their craft as the sage Sumi once did.
Having arrived at last at the end of an unbroken string, I reflected on the knots we had encountered along the way. Continuing with the metaphor, once you know how a knot is tied, you also know how it is untied.
Let the string remain unbroken.
NEXT WEEK: Pedalling at least 50 miles (80km) every day!
PS Since writing this, my buddy Jon has put me onto a great animated knot site.
Comments
Post a Comment