Knot Theory

"We learn the rope of life by untying its knots." — Jean Toomer

The name Evan traces its roots to an ancient Hebrew moniker meaning “God is gracious.”

As a standalone Hebrew word, it translates to “rock” or “stone,” while it’s sometimes used as a shortened form of Greek names like Evander (“good man”) or Evangelos (“good messenger”).

All those terms work for me, and they apply to a neighbor who came to my aid last week when I was seriously tangled up in blue.

Evan walked into my life during my weekly visit to the laundromat.

I was about halfway down my block when the drawstring on my laundry bag got caught in the wheels of my shopping cart, and everything came to a grinding halt.

I looked down at the snarled mess gripping the axle of my cart. The cords of the laundry bag had a lo mein–level stranglehold on my ride, and I couldn’t move an inch.

I have since learned that knots are among humanity’s oldest technologies, predating even the Stone Age.

For thousands of years, tying, binding, and weaving cordage allowed early humans to build, fish, hunt, and even record complex information.

And the quickest solution to untying a stuck knot is placing it on a hard surface—like a piece of wood—or using a tool to gently tap or roll it to loosen the fibers.

But none of that was helping me now.

I tugged and pulled while the sun beat down on my brow and a crew of contractors raised a racket as they worked on a nearby house.

Knots to You

“Oh, yeah,” I thought. “This day is working out just fine.”

I got sweatier and crankier as the temperature—and my blood pressure—climbed. I wondered if I’d have to drag the cart back to my house and reenact Alexander the Great’s Gordian knot–busting schtick.

And then Evan showed up, a good man with a message of hope.

He asked what was going on, I pointed to the mess I’d made, and he immediately got down on one knee and began pulling at the noxious knot.

“I don’t want you to waste your time on this,” I said.

“It’s all right,” he replied, nodding across the street. “I’m just supervising the guys.”

Oh — that was his house getting the mid-morning makeover. I’m so glad I kept my mouth shut and refrained from complaining about the noise.

Evan worked slowly and methodically, as if this were his job, displaying a level of patience I could only dream about.

But this was hopeless. Harry Houdini couldn’t have freed himself from this mess.

I was getting ready to go fetch a pair of scissors when Evan took out his house key and pried open the knot.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. How did he do that?

We shook hands, I thanked Evan profusely, and I promised to be more careful with my dirty laundry.

I am so lucky this man showed up when he did, and it reminds me that there really are good people out there. They’re just not in charge.

And now I’m looking to pass his kindness on and help someone else facing a knotty situation.