Caring for ourselves in uncertain times
Caring for ourselves in uncertain times
In other words, it's an election year so things may get a little rocky (especially those of us who lean towards anxiety). What can we do?
I’ve been thinking a lot about how knitting—or crocheting or any type of hand-making—carries us through both good times and hard.
I’ve knit in hospital waiting rooms, on school field trips, in a cozy corner of my living room, on picnics or hikes, and at weddings. Knitting has kept my hands, and my heart, busy when I needed them to be doing something. It’s kept me entertained when times have been boring. It’s kept me anchored to the now when my mind has drifted towards what-ifs or fears.
I first watched this one-minute film by author Gretchen Rubin a long time ago—probably around 2012.1 Back then, I had a newly-minted kindergartener and the central message of this video deeply resonated with me: that the days of mothering can be hard. (I’ve shared this brilliant piece before, by Anne Helen Petersen: Other countries have social safety nets. The US has women.)
The days are long.
And yet, the years are also short. It doesn’t feel like that long ago that my now lanky teenager was a tiny squish in my arms.
To say this is incredibly obvious, a bit of a platitude, and, at its worst, belaboring.
And yet.
Back in 2013, not all that long after I watched this short film, I quit a job I had loved … to do something else. I had no idea what; I just knew I wasn’t doing what I craved most: living every day and fully soaking it in, whether it was hard or easy, quiet or chaotic. I didn’t want to rush through my life.
Knitting has helped. Indeed, it’s been instrumental.
I generally work on a single project at a time. From start to finish, I’ll be fairly dedicated to that project and, thus, will usually spend about a month working on something (sweater, pair of socks, shawl). That one project will be with me from Netflix evenings to Saturday morning coffee in the backyard.
Seeing a project grow—stitch after stitch—helps ground me. It reminds me in the most visceral and obvious way that being here, now, is the best I can do. I can feel the yarn running through my fingers, I can see the stitches building upon one another, and I can see the dropped stitch a few rows back—and take the time to mend it.
It's become a bit of a rallying call for me: the days are long, but the years are short.
It helps me stay in the now. To soak up all the parts of this life that are hard, or boring, or joyful, or sad. With my knitting at hand.
Would you be interested in …
With all this in mind, I’ve been thinking about how difficult November 2020 was for me, and how election results took a few days to come through and how very stressed and worried I was. Knitting carried me through that time. I currently have a lot more tools in my toolbox for managing anxiety and worry, so, as I think ahead to this coming November, I was wondering if you, too, would be interested in a community offering (led by me) for politically left-of-center knitters & crocheters that would focus on calm and common good?
I am still forming ideas but it would be low cost (probably hosted here on Substack for paid members, so $5 for a one month upgrade if you’re currently a free subscriber). It would likely involve a few of the common sense grounding tools I use myself. I’d likely do the project with a collaborator, so the practice and expertise behind the week’s activities would be really solid and evidence-based.
Knitting and hand-making would of course be part of it.
What do you think?
Reader spotlight: Meet Tyne Swedish!
If you follow me on Instagram, you know that my dear friend (and amazing knitwear designer), Tyne, is visiting me this week. She’s agreed to be my very first reader spotlight!
📍 Where do you live? Indianapolis, Indiana, in the United States.
🧶 What is your (main) yarn craft? Knitting.
🗒️ What are you currently working on? Socks of my own design.
✏️ Something you want to learn: Spinning.
🌧️ Tell me about a hard time that knitting carried you through: When my dog, Cooper passed. That was so hard and I miss him every day. Knitting was a constant that I could turn to.
☀️ Tell me about a joyful time that knitting carried you through: When I knit in the car on our drive to Illinois to pick up our current dog, Charlie. I was super anxious, so I knit a lot in the car. When we first met Charlie, he scooted over to me and was just so cute!
🗳️ What your politics are about: I’m more of a socialist than anything else. I want everyone to contribute and share, equitably, in having a good life.
📖 Favorite book? The Secret History by Donna Tartt
🎥 Favorite movie? The Godfather
✨ Something you’re excited about: Starting renovations on my house.
Would you like to volunteer for a future reader spotlight? If so, please message me!
The first iteration has now been replaced by this updated one.
I'm really looking forward to seeing what the plan is for November because I'm very much already anxious about it. I've had to slow down on yarn projects (and everything else) lately because my body has been tired and sore, which is a hard thing for me to honour, even though I know it's important. I think the importance of my creativity is never more obvious than when I can't engage with it the way I want to.
All this so much. I’ve written here about knitting through my father’s dying and how I finished a sock almost as he died. Now there is so much with my mom, with my husband, with our friends—the hits keep coming. And I’m knitting through it all.
I do watch the project grow but I think my solace is in the momentary forgetting, that all that matters is the stitch I’m making. The next stitch always there, quiet and waiting. Mistakes are easy to fix. Life doesn’t seem fixable. Knitting follows patterns (stitch patterns, not “the” pattern)—predictable and can be learned, repeated as they form a coherent whole. Nothing in life at times makes sense.
The days as a mother were long—I remember sitting on the back stoop knitting sleeveless cotton tops for my daughter,knitting as she picked dandelions. Mothering was hard and lonely. I still knit for her, and she wears what I make her.
I used to be a one project person, but I somehow now have 4 active projects going. They range from no-thought vanilla sock to a complicated cable sock to tandem sleeves on a cardigan (can’t work on that with 4 dogs in my lap) to a bag for a friend’s birthday. Somedays I need an easy project. Some days I want to get lost in the cables. And somedays I need both.
November frightens me. A Biden win is what I hope for, but was Jan 6 a dress rehearsal for this election? A Trump win makes me afraid for my gay and trans friends, for my international students. I live in Illinois, a blue state but blue only thanks to Chicago and the U of I downstate. My county is cherry red. Most of the people we have to associate with due to my husband’s job are quiet Trumpers who may not like him, but will vote party line. We have a few allies, but we are a minority.
I’m sorry this is so long. Thank you for being here.