For as long as I can remember, I have been a knitter. My mother and grandmother taught me to knit, sitting next to me and patiently guiding my fingers when I was about 10 years old. They gave me an appreciation for the texture of yarn, for smooth needles, and for the infinite variety of projects that can be made. I have always loved taking a skein of yarn and two needles and making a loop and crossing yarn over a needle and pulling it through, until something simple or intricate is fashioned.
Knitting is often the closest that I come to meditation. It puts me in a state of flow. I can simply pay attention to the beat of each stitch instead of my thoughts. When I knit I feel like I am in a state of zen.
Knitting has become a kind of metaphor for life for me. Needles and yarn have taught me a lot about myself and life. Some examples: Slow down and pay attention. Ask my husband, I tend to do everything fast. I’m very efficient, so that sometimes works out well for me. However, there are times when it can be more trouble than it is worth. Knitting, especially knitting intricate patterns, forces me to slow down. I have to carefully follow instructions, count stitches, and read patterns. Pay attention.
I probably should also do more of this in my life. Take more time. Pay more attention. Be more deliberate and thoughtful when doing things. How frequently have I asked myself, “Have I been truly present today?” at the end of the day? Therefore, in the morning, I practice making and consuming my coffee more slowly. When I do the laundry, I feel each piece of clothing. I pay attention to what’s going on around me when I walk. Take stock and check in often. No matter how slowly or deliberately you knit, you will make mistakes. You’ve missed the decrease or increase at the end of the row, misread the pattern, or dropped a stitch. When that happens, you usually have two choices. You can either scrap your project and start over, or you can simply accept the flaw and learn to appreciate beauty in it. I tend toward perfectionism and so I often unravel a piece and start again, sometimes even several times. Every time I do, Steve groans. “I would never knit if I had to undo all my work and start over,” he often says. But I don’t mind. It’s better to catch a mistake early and rectify it than to keep going and regret it later. Other knitters are perfectly content with the flaws, such as one sleeve being slightly longer than the other, uneven stitches, or a hole that appears far below the surface of the work. In life, it’s beneficial to have the ability to evaluate and reflect. Before we let a conflict or a rift get too far, might we check in with our spouse or our friend? When we fall into some bad habits, does taking stock of the consequences make us change course?
Some mistakes in life are cause for starting over. Others can never be fully mended. But either way we are reminded that the broken can be beautiful. Grace from God is abundant. When knitting, especially with a complicated pattern, you often can’t see how everything will fit together. More than once, I’ve thought that the author of a pattern made a mistake. It didn’t make sense. But when I have persevered, kept at it, and trusted the process, the piece came together in the end.
A useful life skill is perseverance. Life is filled with a lot of nonsense. We don’t see any pattern or design. Despite this, we have faith that God is in control of everything. Even if something seems meaningless, it may still serve a purpose. Give of yourself. The socks, hats, and other knitted items I give my kids don’t always make them feel good. However, I hope they are aware that I have given them my attention and time. In these intertwined stitches, I have conveyed my love to them. Life is about offering ourselves to God and to others. That entails our love, attention, and time. Knitting, for me, is a symbol of that. Isn’t this why the prayer shawls tknitted or crocheted by church members can make such an impact on the sick or the grieving? It is not that they need another shawl or blanket. It’s that the shawls carry prayer and presence and love. They remind us that love is incarnational, tangible.
There are undoubtedly other knitters out there. Would you add anything? What has knitting shown you about life?
