“I live for the approval of my children” I tossed off the other day, jokingly, in response to some random comment. A surprising top-of-the-mind comment. Fairly self-denying and limiting, if taken literally. It’s gratifying to be admired, to act as a loving parent, to offer something valuable to your own and others’ children but not what to live for, surely.
What do we live for? Does that mean passion, or faith? What wakes us up, or keeps us “up” daily? I have only limited religious and philosophical knowledge but can understand that analysis along those lines would frame the answer to this for most people. Without thinking too deeply but putting a little more consideration into it, my next top-of-the-mind answer would be …
to learn
When I am learning (or teaching, which is for me the same thing usually), I feel a rightness, solid confidence, contentment, satisfaction. This awareness took me some time to realize and came to me quite clearly several years ago, following literacy tutoring, when I noticed everything just felt right; I knew what to do in that setting, I was confident that it was useful, I liked anticipating and preparing for it, I delighted in being there and learned many new things from my “learner,” and I enjoyed thinking about it after. There’s probably better vocabulary to describe this (maybe someone will comment and enhance my language) but I knew enough to try to replicate that feeling whenever I could.
Shortly after this I took the plunge to try to learn several things I had always wanted to but had demurred on for years; I started Spanish classes, singing lessons and asked a trusted friend to teach me to knit.
Yes, in the blog and print world this is such a cliché – the lessons gained from knitting – but, for me, it is true. I found it very difficult to learn, and still each new aspect I attempt is a challenge and sometimes uncomfortably so; the learning curve does not seem to flatten out for me but I soldier on. I recently finished my first garment with this yarn (after stop-and-start 16 months? more?) and during one of the endless re-workings I actually said aloud, “This sweater has taught me so much.” Besides specific techniques, I learned about reading patterns and when to ignore them, about asking for help constantly, persevering, and relaxing about the outcome.
I can sew pretty much anything, love to do so and feel very comfortable with that but I never experience what I do from being a knitter. Many books make grand claims about the spiritual and meditative and therapeutic benefits of knitting. Pretty much all true. True believers tout the social and community benefits of knitting. Pretty much all true. Knitters nearly always are making something for someone else. And even if you don’t knit in the presence of others, there is a rich online community of knitters (smart, creative, lovely people with extensive interests in other creative and intelligent projects) and when you step into any knit shop around the world you are among friends (“we may not like you but we already love you” as AA says to newcomers) who may not be like you but can speak a similar language, offer help, understand your passion and offer a safe, comfortable place to stay until closing time.
Further lessons:
- It’s something my mother and my daughter AND I enjoy – how cool is it to share that? and my best friend. and my mother-in-law, and my sister-in-law.
- Knitting in public sparks conversations that transcend all sorts of disagreements.
- And it’s beautiful.
Waiting for a title 