An antidote for tough times

Why picking up your knitting needles, crochet hook, and stitching matter more than you think

Have you heard? The force-of-nature Congressional representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez has started knitting as an antidote to doomscrolling.

We are just 13 days into a new governmental administration in the U.S., and it feels like 1300. I imagine that for AOC, it feels like 13 million. I know you know what I mean.

So many, many things have shifted. I think the brute force being used to pull us back to old eras—and the chaos and enervation that go with it—are the point. It’s exhausting. Even though I’ve narrowed my aperture for taking in the news, it’s exhausting. I know you know what I mean.

These are the times when we need to find a quiet, steady light inside because it won’t come from the outside. There are no marches—not because we don’t care enough to march, but because we know that marches and public demonstrations aren’t going to sway this administration.

Right now, I believe that social change will only happen because of inner work.

Inner work is unwinding the old messages (of white supremacy, of patriarchy, of gender essentialism, of blithe consumption) inside us, so we can more clearly see what’s happening in the outer world. Inner work is tending to our sadness and anger and finding a light of hope within.

Inner work is discovering which part of social justice lights you up inside. Is it dropping out of diet culture? Is it reading diverse books? Is it decolonizing your language? Is it expanding your understanding of gender?

However you approach the inner work of social justice, it matters. And it matters deeply.

Tyranny is eroded by a sea of small acts. Everything matters.
—Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

Picking up your knitting needles, crochet hook, needlepoint needle, or cross-stitch canvas may feel trivial but bear with me.

When we stitch—however we stitch—we are showing ourselves that we can make something new, something that has never existed before, and we can do it with our own two hands. We are building a lived experience of efficacy. We are showing ourselves, one stitch at a time, that we are competent and that we have capacity. I’m no neuroscientist, but I imagine we reinforce positive neural pathways when we knit, crochet, stitch, and make things. Perhaps it’s that neural pathway that says we are competent. We can make things happen.

We are also expanding our ability to see and understand. We may be “reading” or knitting or seeing a stitch pattern, but isn’t this also just a form of observing, analyzing, and decoding? And what is more valuable right now than decoding what is happening in the outer world? What are the patterns and connections between gender essentialism and dismantling diversity and equity programs? What does anti-immigrant rhetoric lead to? Seeing the patterns of dehumanization may seem different from seeing a pattern of stitches, but I think it’s connected.

I used to think presenting data or cogent arguments to conservative folks on social media (or even in real-life interactions) would help change minds. I don’t think so anymore. Aldous Huxley famously said, “There is only one corner of the universe you can be certain of improving, and that's your own self.” I would add that when you do the inner work of social change, you become like a lighthouse for others. Maybe it’s the way you write your pronouns on a nametag that lets other folks know you see gender as expansive. Maybe it’s understanding that parent meetings at your kid’s school must happen at a time accessible for parents who can’t leave work by 5:00 pm. Maybe it’s how you volunteer at a welcome program for refugees resettling into your community. All of these examples are from you, people I know from the amazing internet, who are doing these outer things because you are doing the inner work. You’re making sure you have the inner resources you need—by knitting, crocheting, and stitching.

It’s all connected: what we do to slow down, what we create, what we imagine.

Are you a fan of Birks-n-socks?

I’m a committed sweater knitter. But lately, I’ve found myself absorbed with sock knitting. Reliably, for me, when life goes awry, I cast on a sock. It’s something about knitting at a sock gauge. It soothes me to see the tidy and orderly rows and columns of stitches begin to line up. When I can’t control much about the world out there, seeing tiny stitches, one after the other, row by row, making fabric, well, it feels good.

The rhythmic movement of my hands helps me turn off my brain. I can more easily sit in the moment, let my hands move in familiar ways, and enjoy the tactile pleasure of the yarn.

It also helps that I see quick progress with a sock. I can form the top cuff fairly quickly. One more evening of knitting produces the leg of the sock. Make a heel flap and turn the heel. Knit the gusset. Another evening for the foot, and maybe a final evening for the toe and grafting. It’s a neat and tidy process, and after about a week, I have one more sock to add to my pile of finished socks. (I don’t even need to complete a pair to feel a sense of accomplishment.)

I may not be able to do much to stop the external tide of harrowing news, but I can still make something happen. And I know that this feeling of accomplishment and the quiet calm that comes from it matter in the long run.

We find ourselves in tough times. Knitting, crocheting, and making things by hand can be an antidote. I hope you will spend some extra time with your stitching today. I know I will.

I’m trying to do something different, here, and you’re invited to join me. This newsletter is about building a community of liberal stitchers who envision a world of social justice, equity, and belonging. We’re the folks who don’t want to shop on Amazon, who want to be gentle with the Earth, and who want to stitch with abundant joy.

There are many ways to participate: you can become a paid subscriber, ask for a community-supported paid subscription, make something with one of my knitting patterns or yarn, or leave a comment or a heart below.

In the words of my knitterly colleague Kavitha Raman, I accept any of these things with immense gratitude.