Last night a huge fire broke out in a storage complex in North London. Here a BBC article about it. The pictures show the level of devastation.
Most of my yarn collection, lovingly selected, was in there.
When I was first told the news, I couldn’t believe it was true. My partner said, there’s a fire in the area where we keep our things… “What?!”
Disheartening as it may be, for now I’m taking it with a philosophical approach.
Firstly, there were no casualties, no one perished.
Then, was it meaningful to have a collection well beyond a knitting-life expectancy? I don’t even have much time to knit!
And although I dearly love(d) my yarn, it’s (was) still a thing. In fact, it was a rucksack, somehow a burden: “Will I ever get to use it?”, “Where do I keep it?”, “How do I protect it?”.
Perhaps, I had spent too much of my life preoccupied with it – acquiring, caring, storing it and so on.
A lot of my belongings from various periods of my life were lost there too, but perhaps it was DESTINY?
Perhaps, it’s another of the eras in life that are destined to pass – all passes away and there’s nothing we can do about it.
Perhaps it will make it easier if one day I were to move elsewhere or change my life?
There have been signs of change in the last years, some days I feel it’s time for a bigger change, but I’m not sure about it yet.
Meanwhile, should I “travel light”? Should I detach myself?
Anyway, as there’s nothing I can do about it, life moves on!
PS some yarn kept at the flat has survived…
PS2 my collection before