I quit knitting for awhile. Every time I sat down to work on Jesse’s sweater, I was miserable. It wasn’t coming along well and I couldn’t just set it aside. I’m a checklist knitter. I start a project, finish it, start another. And because I didn’t want to finish my project, and I couldn’t start another until I finished it, I just couldn’t knit. Until I decided two things 1) I’m just going to frog the thing anyway so it’s not really a knitting project anymore and even if I wasn’t going to rip it out, 2) I’m the boss of me. If I want to have two knitting projects going at a time, I certainly can quickly followed by a “So there, knitting police in my head!!” (I’m mature like that.)
Here’s what I learned during my interlude from knitting:
1 – I have too many hobbies. Once my main hobby (knitting) wasn’t appealing, I had to choose between scrapbooking, blogging, embroidering, sewing, and reading all as back ups. Not to mention the hobby of just gazing lovingly at pinterest. Most of the time I just watched TV.
3 – Knitting is a beautiful companion to Prozac. My mood since I’ve started working on this afghan is unbelievably better than it’s been in weeks. Knitting is restful but it’s also productive. Pretty awesome.
4 – And of course, that I’m the boss of me. I’m probably pretty late to the game on this lesson. Maybe not. Maybe a lot of us are arbitrary rule followers. While I know it sounds like a toddler throwing a tantrum, I’m really not. I’m not advocating going out and breaking societal norms willy-nilly or even saying that rules are a bad thing. I’m saying I’ve imposed a lot of ridiculous little rules (like I can’t be working on two knitting projects at the same time) that are just ridiculous little rules. I’ve spent a whole chunk of my life worrying about what I should be doing and what people would think if I did (insert some innocuous activity here) and if so-and-so thought I was “good”. I need to stop that.
Being the boss of me means I get to live a life aligned with my own values, filled with the people who matter most to me, and saved by grace.
Doesn’t that sound fun?
I’m reading Stiff by Mary Roach right now and while some of the discussion has me a little squeamish, a good portion has me laughing out loud. And it’s fascinating – even if it is a little macabre. Highly recommend.