Offline

Immediately following the most intense, public online period in my life–launching Knit Hero, this website, a blog, an email list, and initiating a Ravelry KAL group that suddenly gleaned a lot of followers–I very suddenly went completely offline by going on an Alaskan cruise last week.

It was hard to leave all the feedback I was constantly receiving from others and the rush of connections that I felt I was building in this online world, but at the same time it was just exactly what I needed. For people who know me well, you know that I tend to be a little bit (okay, a lot) obsessive, and the past month has been all about Knit Hero all the time. It has been thrilling and exciting and I love every minute of it, but it is also exhausting. I was almost manic over how often I was checking stats, viewing feedback and responding to comments, and brainstorming next steps and  concocting plans. I didn’t know how to stop, how to take a breath.

Then, very suddenly, I was just Karyn. On a cruise. With my family. In Alaska.

It was wonderful.

I had no internet connection and no easy way to connect with anyone who wasn’t in my immediate vicinity. I was completely offline. Instead, I took over 400 photographs, ate a lot of food, saw whales, Bald Eagles, and glaciers, played games, sea kayaked, and walked along quaint sidewalks in little Alaskan towns. I didn’t get as much knitting time in as I had hoped, but what I did fit in was perfection.

I got to the halfway point of the Talisman Shawl, the first Shawl Society shawl, just south of Ketchikan, Alaska. It was a gorgeous few hours sitting in the sun, watching for whales and feeling a connection with these elusive mammals as they came up for air and then headed back below the surface once again. It was a good reminder that this time to myself, with my family, just quietly coming up for air and then disappearing for a while before coming up for air again, is so restorative and natural. It reminded me that  trusting myself as I move through this life, remembering to breathe and rest and look around a while, is crucial in maintaining balance and momentum.

My daughter, Grace, and I kayaking Chilkot Lake outside Haines, Alaska. Breathing together.

After docking in Seattle, I flew down to Eugene, Oregon to visit with my mom as she recovers from surgery on her spine, allowing me the opportunity to be with her and also to reconnect just a little bit online before getting fully back into the swing of things once I get home. It is yet another chance to breathe. And remember the whales.