What I love about knitting is that it can’t be optimized

& one more week to get those lovely handmade items ready for a new home

“Get the benefit of sleep without falling asleep.”

This was the headline in a newsletter I recently received. As you might guess, this headline did not land well with me. 😂 I like to get the benefits of sleep by actually sleeping.

I’m going to share a secret with you: I nap every day. I’m someone whose menopausal nighttime sleep is often not very good, and I have adapted by making time to rest every afternoon. (If your nighttime sleep is also not so great, here’s a fantastic post from Emily McDowell. Pro tip: Read the comments. There’s a ton of great crowd-sourced advice.)

I don’t think everything (and especially not sleep) should be optimized. Sometimes, it’s nice to just let things take the time they take.

I’ve been practicing slow as a way of life for a while now, and, for me, it’s been the best antidote to all the -isms and tough things going on out there. The folks I look up to the most, the Black and Indigenous women who are figuring out a way toward liberation for all of us, not once have I heard them talk about optimizing sleep.

You can’t meditate your way out of a 40-hour work week with no childcare.
—Pooja Lakshmin, author of Real Self Care

Remembering Pooja Laksmin’s wonderful quip, I had a peek in my own meditation app last night and noticed that I’m at 496 consecutive days. That’s a lot of days with at least 10 minutes of quiet, slow breathing in them. And every one of those 496 days has had knitting in them, which has not been a coincidence. It’s been intentional, un-optimized, hard-to-come by moments of trying.

There’s been summer knitting with summer yarns (like now). There’s been deep winter knitting, with cozy chunky yarns and a fire in the fireplace. There’s been knitting when I’ve been sad and scared. There’s been knitting when I’ve been buoyant and cheerful. The knitting has been with me through it all.

Knitting can’t really be optimized. Even if you are using a knitting machine or a circular sock machine (which I have), it for sure cannot be optimized. There is always a learning curve, and there is always skill and technique and hours upon hours of knowledge involved.

I love this about knitting.

There is no way to learn how to get better as a knitter other than to knit.

Knitting is perseverance. Nothing happens quickly with knitting. Even with “quick knits.” It is always one loop, connected to another. The only difference is how many loops there are between casting on and binding off. Sometimes it’s more, sometimes it’s fewer. But it’s always just one after another, kind of like steps or days of meditation. It’s always just one. And then one more.

Knitting can also be simply paying attention. We learn how to watch our stitches and how to read our knitting. We memorize small bits of patterns, and see how each loop, very slowly, contributes to the whole.

Knitting is humility, too. We all know the feeling of ripping out an evening’s worth of knitting (which I had to do just two nights ago). No matter how experienced we are, sometimes, we don’t get it right. And that’s okay. We can always try again and, the next time, try to do it better.

Knitting isn’t optimized, and that’s one of the things I love most about it. (Just as much, if not more, than I love an afternoon nap.)

Summer knitting and summer yarns

My studio work, of late, has been about dyeing and swatching summer yarns. They’ll be coming to the shop on Friday. (If you’re on the list to receive “newsy” emails, then you’ll get all the photos and links and reminders. If you’re not sure and want to be on the list, add your email here.)

As I was photographing the yarns, I came across a really pretty blue feather, picked it up, washed and rinsed it, and used it as one of my backyard props. I like to use a few leaves or other bits of natural ephemera when I photograph yarn for the practical reason that it helps my camera color-correct the yarn—and for the frivolous reason that it’s a small easter egg that says I dye yarn in an outdoor dye kitchen.

Summer is also a great time to sort through your knitwear

I like sorting my knitwear in the summer because I’ve had a little bit of distance from the actual wearing of it. I can see it with fresh eyes and decide if it’s something that fits my current style and preferences. And, I can wash and dry the items I’m going to keep so much faster than in the fall or winter. They dry lickity split in the outdoor sun. One of these summers, I’m going to do a full wash, dry and fold of all my knitwear, but for now, I generally wash and fold just a few sweaters. And whether it’s one or many, it always feels good to put a fresh piece of knitwear back in its drawer.

This week, I’ll be sorting through my knitwear and deciding what to list in the Swap Shop. I will be contributing at least 3 sweaters and a few hats, too.

If you want to join me in sorting and rehoming some knitwear, now is the time to upgrade your membership and send me the details for your items. You have until Friday for your knitwear to be in Sunday’s opening. 😉

As a reminder, paid members will get a week of first dibs, and then the shop will open up for everyone.

Summer is a time for being slow. It’s a time for being outside. It’s a time to not optimize. To just let summer things be summer things. It’s a time for summer knitting —small woolen things like socks, or trying summer yarns, or knitting one of the amazing summer patterns being created these days (links to Ravelry).

I hope you’re able to find some time for slow, never-optimized knitting today—and an afternoon nap, too, if you’re so inclined! Slow is the antidote.