Several weeks ago I decided that enough was enough and I didn’t need my spinning wheel anymore. (No, I’m not an Amish woman or a time traveler from 14th Century England – although the time travel thing sounds intriguing!) It had sat in the corner of my living room for over 4 years and had been used approximately half a dozen times. That’s not a good ratio of time:use. Yes, it looked pretty sitting in the corner, it also worked as a conversation piece when guests came: “Do you actually know how to use that?”. However, I don’t think those things overcame the fact that it was an extra thing in my house that I didn’t need, especially, when it could garner some decent cash on Craig’s List. So, I snapped some pics and posted it online. Two scam emails and one offer for an exchange of live sheep in lieu of cash later, a legitimate buyer came through and I now have an envelope of cash (not sheep!) ready to be deposited into the bank.
And now it’s time for me to reflect. As I watched the wheel drive away (well, you know, the car drove away with the wheel inside it – damn grammar!), I was a little sad. The few times I did use the wheel I enjoyed it immensely. Spinning is a very “zen” activity. Well, maybe a more correct word is “meditative.” It’s very quite – there is no whir of a sewing machine or klick/klack of knitting needles. Your foot goes up and down, up and down in an unbroken rhythm, and you must concentrate enough on the roving in your hands that there is little room for any other thoughts. If your thoughts do wander, as they often do during meditation (unless of course you are not a beginner like me!), the roving slips, or bunches, or breaks. There is nothing wrong with this, nothing is broken. It just gives you an opportunity to reestablish yourself and start over again.
But, as much as I enjoyed my spinning, it didn’t do it nearly often enough to justify the wheel in the corner of my living room and the money not in the bank. And there are cheaper ways to meditate. Like, you know, sitting on the floor and simply meditating! I told a friend that I would be sad to see my wheel go, but in a week I would forget that I had ever owned such a contraption and wouldn’t regret in the least that I had sold it.
Update: I think I was a little generous with the week thing – it’s been approximately 4 hours since my wheel left for its new home, and already I can barely remember what stood in the corner of my living room for 4 years. How quickly I move on!