the Village Knittiot

Well folks, I hate to say it, but the Knittiot fell just short of finishing. Much of yesterday was spent working and reworking experimental pointy toes in order to get the right kind of elven curl on the end, but to no avail. Every attempt resulted in something I would likely shove in the back of my closet and never, ever wear not be proud to put on my feet. In the end, I had to admit that the constraints of my own personal knitting knowledge proved too great an obstacle.

Now, most of you will not be surprised to learn that I am a bit of a rabid perfectionist at times. So, as the minutes and hours slowly ticked away yesterday and my chances of finding a suitable toe for the finish dwindled into the land of impossible dreams, I began to hyperventilate. Panic and anxiety are not typically funny things, but if you can’t laugh at them, they never go away, so I did a little bit of laughing about it alternated with some crying and a dash of self criticism for good measure. But mostly I spent a lot of time thinking about my experiences and what I learned from participating in the Knitting Olympics and also from watching the Olympics.

The pursuit of self knowledge has a particular ebb and flow to it, and each wave of realization that washes over you carries new details that penetrate deeper and add a new layer of understanding. Yesterday was like the crest of a wave that has been slowly rolling in for the last week or so.

I don’t know about you, but when I first discover something, I pour myself into it. I am that proverbial teenager who is forever convincing their parent(s) that they want to play a new instrument, take up a new sport, pursue a foreign language and so on and so forth, leaving in my wake a trail of unused equipment and accessories for long abandoned “hobbies.” Each time I find something new, it is going to be THE thing. It will be my life. I will be perfect at it.

Then it takes time and practice and I don’t have the patience for it and it falls by the wayside. I, of course, tend to use these “failings” as a means of convincing myself that I am no good at anything, instead of just saying, well, this isn’t the form my passion takes.

Knitting has been slightly different in that I haven’t given up — or even wanted to give up. It has however taken on the typical grandiose expectations. Part of those grandiose expectations are a true desire to learn and grow and advance in the craft. But there is something else going on here.

Yesterday, as I was getting completely worked up about my inability to figure something so simple out, I just had to stop and ask myself, “What are you trying to achieve here?”

What is knitting supposed to be for me?

The answer to that question is really quite simple. Knitting is supposed to be relaxing. Meditative. A creative outlet.

I think that in this, as in other things, I am still chasing after something, maybe an identity of sorts. Something that I am good at that can define me. Something I can focus on and excel at. Something to validate me. Of course, I have many interests and am easily enticed in new directions — Jill of all trades, master of none, and all that — which presents its own problems. But there is something in this mad pursuit that seems to miss the whole point.

Last night my sweetie asked me what I was chasing. And I really had to think about that. What am I chasing? What am I trying to be? What is this elusive goal? When will you be satisfied with yourself?

Good questions.

Watching the Olympics this week, I was often struck by the sadness that seemed to accompany the bronze and silver medalists to the podium. The only thing they appeared to see were the failures and mistakes that cost them the gold. It was as if they were incapable of seeing what they did right — what earned them the medal or even just the joy of participation!

Hmmmm. Sound familiar?

Yeah, it sounds familiar to me too.

Having sufficiently searched my soul and oddly enough rediscovered my love of knitting, I got back on track. Toward the end of the day, I finally decided on a toe I could live with and set about to finish, but I am about 8 rows short of finishing the last slipper/sock. I’m also contemplating adding a decorative cuff now that I have a little extra time.

So, the big question is, “Will you compete again?”

My answer? A resounding, “Yes!” I pushed myself, I learned so much and I was a part of this really amazing global event. Of course, there are many things I will do differently next time around. But overall, it was a great success.

This entry was posted on Monday, February 27th, 2006 at 8:53 am and is filed under these knittiot olympics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.