One In One Out

Do I love it? Does it fit? Have I used it lately?

I’m cleaning out my closet, and what doesn’t make me happy is going out. If I haven’t used it, if I don’t feel great in it, if I don’t love it, out it goes!

Parting with my clothes is painful! Especially things I’ve enjoyed but that aren’t useful anymore. But at the same time it’s a relief - I enjoy a neat closet and when I clean it, I usually find some long lost stuff.

My husband has a one in, one out policy in his closet. When he gets something new, he gets rid of something old. His side of the closet is balanced. I want mine orderly and color coordinated! I might be in the one in, three out state of closet organization, but I'm determined to find out if less is more.

As I’ve been sorting through my clothes, I started to get the idea of sorting through my habits. How about tossing out the thoughts that don’t make me happy, or just aren’t what I want to be like. Too bad changing habits is a bit harder than changing a shirt!

OK, what habits should I toss? Complaining. No, criticizing. No, worry. Being mean. Being sarcastic. Well, I have a nice list of negative thinking to choose from.

Usually I don’t even notice that my mind is full of dark/sad/mean thoughts, and then I suddenly find myself in the middle of a sad day and I might even be making it a sad day for somebody else!

So how do you wake up and throw out those thoughts and non-thoughts? Waiting for them to show up and then using hand to hand combat to toss them out seems like a slow way to make changes. What if I don’t have a chance to get mad today? Or nobody makes a mistake for me to criticize?

The one in one out idea might be just the thing for my dark thoughts. What would happen if I get my mind so full of the positive that there’s no room for darkness to sneak in? In with the happy, out with the sad!

I’ll try Alex Haley’s motto, “find the good and praise it” and apply it everywhere, to people, to the weather, to whatever happens today.

I knew of a man who hummed a hymn to himself when he felt angry. He looked like a happy guy. And he was. He was a guy who was keeping the door locked and bolted against emotions and thoughts he didn’t want.

Instead of fighting negativity, I’m going to keep my mental closet so full of kind, cheerful and optimistic thoughts that there’s no room for whiney, mean, sad ones.

There really is so much good all around every day, it shouldn’t be hard to find it. That quest actually sounds kind of pleasant.

So it’s one in one out for me. With clothes, habits, thoughts, whatever I feel like changing.

Never suppress a generous impulse.

A few weeks ago I found Gretchen Rubin's excellent blog The Happiness Project. I wanted to try a little happiness project of my own. I decided to devote the month of February to love. I thought of love for God and also my family and friends and even thought of reaching out to those I don't know. Why not just include everyone!

As I contemplated how to show my love for God I thought first of my personal devotions and then I remembered what Jesus said about the good we do for those in need - when "ye have done it unto one of the least of these... ye have done it unto me." This reminded me of what King Benjamin taught his people, "When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God."

So I decided to try to find ways to brighten someone's day. Hopefully each day. Maybe with something that took some time or required a bit of a sacrifice. I wondered if I could actually find an opportunity for a good deed like that each day. But I knew I'd find opportunities to be cheerful at least, and smile at the check-out clerk or whoever I encountered as I went about my business. I could use Camilla Kimball's rule "never suppress a generous impulse" to guide me.

That was what I hoped and intended. As the days passed I was surprised to find so many ways I felt impressed to reach out to someone. Maybe with something from my kitchen, maybe with a phone call, maybe a walk together, maybe a note of encouragement...

And the result of this was that I woke up one day late in the first week of this endeavor feeling unreasonably happy. I searched my mind for the source of my happy mood and remembered what the Dalai Lama said about doing good. "If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion." I realized that even just a few days of looking for little ways to show my love for God by attempting to "give the succor He would give"* had turned out to be a big happiness producer.

Which sort of seems ironic. I meant to be spreading cheer to others, but I ended up with a heaping portion of it myself.

*Henry B. Eyring,"Our Hearts Knit as One," Ensign, Nov 2008, 71

Love at First Touch

My first knitting adventure in 2009

I'm in love. With a knitting project.

It started with a fun afternoon last fall while I was visiting my son and daughter-in-law in New York City. Angie and I went to the great yarn store Purl Soho where we tried not to drool on the swatches on the front table. We decided to try to find the softest yarn and pretty much touched everything in the store. We finally agreed that nothing was softer than the cashmere. We chose a skein and decided to make the cowl that was displayed with the swatches. A love affair was born.


The yarn is so light and soft and the pattern texture so delicate, I felt like I was knitting a cloud. Every stitch was delicious.

Then the romance hit a rocky moment just as I was finishing the last row. I held the cowl up to show it to some friends and my eye caught a mistake about a third from the top. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach!

My friends each had a thought about what I should do ranging from rip it back to leave it alone. Someone said it wasn't noticeable.


To test that theory, I showed it to my husband, who picked the mistake out instantly; and then to a knitting friend, who couldn't find it.

I had knitted so carefully, checking every row. How could this have happened?

This is not the mistake that you'll find in a Persian rug or an Amish quilt or a Navajo blanket which I believe are all sort of intentional and which remind us that only God is perfect.

This is an "I can't even figure out what I did wrong, but I know it's not right" kind of mistake; an "I thought everything was going well and now this!" kind of mistake.

I stewed about things for a couple of days. I'm worse at unknitting lace than at knitting it, so ripping it all back was a daunting thought.

I knew the weather in New York was cold and wanted Angie to have her little cloud of warm fluff as soon as possible, but I also wanted to have a finished product worthy of the yarn and pattern and the effort that I'd already made.

I finally decided to try to do a kind of faux fix, knowing that I could rip it all back if need be. Even that was tedious, but in the end I think I got an acceptable result.


A handmade cowl - not like the ones you can buy in the store. A humble illustration of the truth that only God is perfect. And that something can be perfectly lovable even if it has a flaw or two.