Sometimes, when the light bulb over my head comes on, it’s not a big BING sound and a beam like a floodlight. Sometimes it’s a little flashlight bulb and a whisper in my ear. I’ve been working on knitting a pair of fingerless gloves for a friend. He doesn’t normally wear gloves, but he’s recently been diagnosed with carpal tunnel syndrome, and our winters are harsh, so I know he’s going to be in pain without them.
Tonight I was trying to put into words to another friend (who doesn’t know this guy) why I was making the gloves, and the pieces sort of fell together. My sudden renewal of interest in knitting, which had been dormant for years, just happened over the past few weeks. This yarn that I’m using is a dark blue, which consciously I chose because the coat the intended recipient wears has blue trim, but I’ve associated blues with Brighid for as long as I’ve worked with her. The project is intended to ease the pain of someone who’s suffering, and I’m owned by a goddess who has a healer aspect. I’m so used to being rather thick in my interactions with the gods and needing a swift kick to the ass to force me into gear that I nearly missed the quiet nudges that I was obeying without realizing it, but I’m so grateful for the rare occasion when the work is actually placed in my hands, without my having to look for my task. My first message from her, long before I was actively hers, was, “Get to work.” So even though this isn’t a huge project, it feels good to realize that she approves.