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“Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty.” – Henry Ford
L is for… lenses, licence, L-plates, and… learning. I must admit I’ve never been particularly keen to learn to drive. In fact, I’m not sure there is any mode of transport I enjoy more than my own two protractile propulsion agents. But.. driving is a pretty handy thing to know how to do, and besides, I’ve found I’m addicted to the process of learning. So I had my first driving lesson on Monday. In contrast to my driving habits, I like to learn as quickly and obsessively as possible, so I’m doing an intensive course. Steering down that rather busy, rather narrow road was probably the scariest thing I’ve done since I saved the cottage from burning down. Clearly I need to do more scary things.
It was a relief when I could dismount (if that is what one does?) and have a nice slow, ambling, pedestrian walk by the river Severn.
My L-plates remind me of this sweet illustration in Mary Thomas’s Knitting Book. I think if we had to wear a great big ‘L’ on our back whenever we were new to something, we’d learn pretty quickly. Still, I would have preferred D-plates.* D for Derya! D for daring, dexterous, and delightful. D for dangerous, like knitting (#100)!
Learning is a dangerous business. You face your fear of one of the worst Ls: looking like a Loser. But there’s a very easy solution to that, which also begins with ‘L’: Laughter. Laughing at yourself and the silly circumstances is the best thing to do when you trip up. In fact, it’s the only way forward! If there’s something you’ve always dismissed off-hand as unworthy of learning, whether it’s how to neaten your selvedges, or how to write poetry
I’m off to have lunch now, and practice steering with my plate. Vroom vroom…
P.S. I wanted to thank the Simply Knitting Blog for featuring Laylock. SK was the first magazine I bought when I was learning, and I still have the first issue. :)
* D-plates are used in Wales instead of L-plates. D stands for ‘dysgwr’, which I cannot pronounce.
