Knitting and the Pursuit of “Stuff”
For the last couple of days I’ve had a post rolling around in the back of my head, which is a little odd, because since deciding to take a break I haven’t really felt the usual compulsion to write much of anything. Particularly here on the blog. This self-imposed hiatus has been an excellent refresher for me. Sometimes you just need to be quiet and listen. That has pretty much been the theme of the summer for me. And I have heard a lot of things. I’m not sure that’s over yet, but today I felt the need to write and I am listening to that voice.
As the Summer of Knitting Naturally has worn on, I have found myself experiencing a sense of freedom and relief. At first I couldn’t quite put my finger on where it was coming from. Then I took a step back from the blog and that sensation increased. So I decided to give it some more serious scrutiny.
A not so surprising side effect of the boundaries I set for myself this summer is that is has been much more difficult to buy yarn. Not that there aren’t options, it’s just that they are few and far between and usually only available online. I tend to be reluctant about purchasing yarn I haven’t touched or felt or visually inspected. I say, “Oh, I’ll think about it.” And more often than not, I just never go back and actually hit the “buy it” button.
In the midst of all of this (as usual) I have been in the throes of some serious evaluation of my path and where I want it to ultimately take me. The getting quiet and listening are a big part of that. I have had some revelations and realizations and moments of clarity. These moments, in turn, have caused me to seriously think about my priorities.
Financially, knitting has been my priority for the better part of the past few years. I started crocheting to preserve my sanity in a difficult situation. This led to knitting. And like many things in my life, what was once an activity promoting peace, relaxation and a personal sense of accomplishment, has been turned (by me) into a pressure-filled pursuit of excellence with unrelenting expectations and standards that I can’t possibly meet at the moment. In short, it has become discouraging. And expensive.
I hadn’t really realized how much pressure I felt about the financial aspect of knitting until it was removed from the equation. The pursuit of knitting, like most hobbies (or really anything) here in the US, seems to be primarily about the accumulation of stuff. Notions, needles, yarn, books, etc., etc., etc. And there is very little in this game that is inexpensive. Particularly once you start trying to find materials that were produced organically or sustainably or with some aspect of the earth’s future or the health and well-being of her inhabitants in mind.
While, admittedly, my stash is so small as to be almost non-existant and I like to think of myself as someone who has never been too terribly into the accumulation of things, the truth of the matter is that I struggle against cultural tides just as much as the next person. Living off the grid is still a pipe dream and I am not immune to the marketing messages that bombard me at every turn.
Since knitting became more than just an amusing hobby, keeping up with even a moderate amount of knitting and spinning is a major financial commitment. Every time I find myself with a little bit of cash, I feel I can’t spend it, because I will need it for that next sweater or that book or that [insert knitting purchase here]. Then there are the agonizing decisions such as, if I purchase this book, I won’t be able to afford the yarn for the project, or the needles or something else. Meanwhile the tidal wave of options continues to pour over us and the short-attention-span-syndrome leads to continual project abandonment, or, if you are me, option paralysis. I am afraid to commit to this yarn or that yarn for fear that I will end up not liking it and then I will have no money to get something I really like. Spending money is, generally, an exercise in anxiety for me. So this connection between financial anxiety and knitting has only served to make my fun and enjoyable hobby a big stresser.
In all of this quiet contemplation, I have suddenly come to see very clearly what has been lost to me in my pursuit of knitting. One of my dearest friends in the world told me once that she had made a commitment to less stuff and more doing. In other words, living life was more important than accumulating things. It has taken a little while for the weight of those words to penetrate into the inner sanctum of knitting. Yet, here they are. Somehow the necessity of the stuff has taken precedence over the actual doing.
I know what I want now, and knitting, while it is lovely and will continue to be a part of my life, needs to take a less prominent position in the knittiot’s hierarchy of needs. Or rather, it needs to go back to being that calming, peaceful activity that provided a lovely outlet for stress rather than something that adds to it. Simplicity is the name of the game here.
August 15th, 2006 at 8:12 am
Yes. YES. Any “hobby” that spirals into the out-of-control obsession that we see proof of all over the blogosphere becomes nothing but a vile, draining habit. We started this out of love, and it’s easy to get caught up in greedy accumulation. I rarely buy yarn, and yet my stash is overflowing with more than I could possibly find time to knit up, all carefully recycled and restored. And sometimes I want to give it all up and never knit another stitch.
August 15th, 2006 at 10:39 am
Well said. I’ve actually found that spinning has helped stop me from buying yarn…it being so exciting to knit with my handspun. And that’s as much stress (and the right kind of stress) as I want from fiber stuffs.
August 15th, 2006 at 12:02 pm
Yes, yes, yes. I get caught up in this knitting overload, too, but I hadn’t thought it through so thoroughly.
August 15th, 2006 at 1:12 pm
well thought out. I think something like this has been rumbling around in my mind in relation to the question of whether to attend Rhinebeck this year. In the end, I decided not to. The reasons are exactly the same but there is a sense of being able to determine what my needs and desires really are outside of a set of expections within a group of people.
August 15th, 2006 at 2:11 pm
If the pleasure of the activity has become overshadowed by the cost and pressure to aquire, then it is a good thing to take a step back. Nothing about this ought to be bad, you know?
I hope this doesn’t mean we’ll lose you here - because you don’t have to buy anything for me to want to hear what you have to say.
I’m looking at Rhinebeck this year as a chance to see friends and spend time around people doing things I love. It doesn’t mean I won’t go home with some wool - I mean really *g* - but my stash is full of things I love and I really feel a pull to work with them. But I still want to talk and take pictures of sheep and try different wheels and watch exploding pumpkins and stock up on handmade soap.
I guess I mean knitting doesn’t have to be primarily a consumer experience. And it doesn’t have to be in your life to the same degree for the rest of your life. As with all things, there is an ebb and flow.
August 16th, 2006 at 8:02 am
I’m so happy to see this post. There have been a whole handful of folks writing similar posts–and some of them got together to put together a new participatory blog you might enjoy:
http://knittingsimplicity.wordpress.com/
Meanwhile, as I think about the twin concerns of organic/natural and anticonsumerism/anticorporate, we plan our trip to Vermont next week where we’ll be driving through Putney and past Green Mountain Spinnery….
August 16th, 2006 at 8:27 pm
I haven’t been knitting long enough to reach this point in knitting, but I’ve had it in other places. I think rests from anything like this are one of the best ways to re-find what you loved about it; I hope we’ll hear more about how you are achieving knitting simplicity.
August 18th, 2006 at 1:03 pm
I do know what you’re talking about. At one time, when I was much younger, I felt I had to do everything. I knit, crocheted, sewed all my own clothes and all of the kid’s clothes too, I quilted, cross stitches, baked almost every day including all of our bread, etc. It got to be to much. I wasn’t enjoying any of it. I had just learned to spin and discovered that spinning was what I really felt I was meant to do, so I pared my activities down. I spin, I knit to use the yarn and on rare occasions I weave a little. Of course I still bake some and sew for halloween and anything else that I really want to do, but I no longer try to do it all, all of the time. Even my spinning and knitting is more relaxed because I no longer feel the need to keep up with other knitters. So what if I stick to things that are I’m comfortable for me to work on, I spin and knit for my own enjoyment not to prove I’m able to do something more advanced than someone else.
So take a break if you need to. Decide what it is that really makes you happy. We’re supposed to do this for fun and relaxation, it’s not a race. Good luck.
August 19th, 2006 at 12:10 pm
Thank you, thank you for saying all of this - I was also going to mention Knitting Simplicity. I think your words get right to the heart of what what is *not* knitting on the Internet: buying, showing off what you’ve bought, fretting about how much you have and finally, destashing some of what you bought but won’t use at less than you paid for it, often so you can make room for more knitting stuff. I am so interested in knitting, and it’s a constant annoyance to me that I have to wade through so much *not* knitting content to read about what people are making on their blogs. I’d hate to think that I’d have to read less to get more out of it, but maybe so. Come join us at Knitting Simplicity
August 19th, 2006 at 2:26 pm
I just found your blog (thanks to Franklin - The Panopticon) and reading this post has filled my heart with balm. Oh, how I needed to read this! I began knnitting again (after a 20 or so year hiatus) and then I discovered blogs and got bit (hard) by the accumulate-stuff bug. My stash isn’t large by any means, but there are more projects hiding in there than I’ll probably ever get to. (the plain dusk colored sock yarn for hubby - not very exciting, the second fair isle mitten - having “learned” how to do fair isle, I want something more challenging…etc.etc.) And, the financial constraints…let’s see, do I pay a little extra this month on the mortgage or do I buy {any knitting related item}. As you pointed out so beautifully, it isn’t the “stuff” that feeds my soul, it’s the knitting itself. And how great would it be to actually present hubby with hand knit socks? Very great indeed. Thank you.
August 20th, 2006 at 12:20 am
It’s not really so odd that when I need some insight, I find someone that will provide it for me!
Speaking of stash — well, I have gone well overboard, I know it; just didn’t know what to do about it! It is a sickness, agreed. Like food, is it a replacement for something we are not getting in our lives? Dunno — But it’s becoming clearer now, and I haven’t really been adding to it lately. Mainly because I’ve been too busy, but also I realize that I will not be able to use this up in my lifetime, or even the next. So it needs to be pared down, disposed of in some way, and let go to someone that can use it. I will only keep the very best for myself! hehehee Those few yarns will become something truly worhty.
August 20th, 2006 at 10:36 am
I have been thinking along these same lines. I’ve just learned to spin with a drop spindlle and love it, but keep getting pressure to “get a wheel” …. I really don’t want or need a wheel. My stash overflows, maybe not by some standards, but I KNOW I can’t possible use it all up. Maybe if I was 10 and had a whole lifetime ahead of me! The same goes for my quilting fabrics.
It’s good to read someone else feels the stress, and know that others agree … maybe it is time to stop the “game” of me too, me too …. I want my blog to reflect what I am doing, what interests me, what joy I get with and from others who share the same interests.
It is all about our relationships, not our stuff.
August 21st, 2006 at 10:11 am
Ahhhhhhh. I absolutely agree. I think I am able to avoid some of the manic consumerism that pops up because I’m so focused on making historic repros, and they tend to require natural fibers in decent colors and simple patterns. Very satisfying, and never part of the mania. Of course, who knows, everyone may decide to make a horto bachi bichko when they see mine . . .
August 21st, 2006 at 1:13 pm
Wow. I can hear you very clearly. I guess I’ve really missed out on the pressure and ‘material’ aspects of this art. See, I started by living off-grid. I needed someone other than myself to laugh at, so I got sheep. They needed a haircut every summer, so I got wool. I wanted to stay out of jail, so I taught myself to spin. Because I had a bunch of yarn, people assumed i could knit…so I believed them. I rarely use store bought yarn. Bamboo skewers sanded fine were my first knitting needles, and the wool just keeps coming. I’m so hoping you find the peace and serenity in this awesome art form, again, and I think you surely will if you listen to the wisdom you’ve shared here. Take care.
September 1st, 2006 at 10:08 am
I am having a horrible day re. finding/remembering people’s e-mails, and now I’m not sure I have yours. Could you e-mail me now?
September 2nd, 2006 at 12:06 am
Thank you. You said it all, beautifully.
September 6th, 2006 at 7:43 pm
I just found your blog, and not only is this is a fabulous post, but you have the ability to express many of the same things that I have been unable to put into words. I used to consider mine a knitting blog, but over time felt at odds with the peer pressure aspects of the community. As Joanna pointed out, there is incredible pressure for new spindlers to “join the fold” and buy a wheel (why stop at one?), and not to mention all the accessories that go along with it (woollee winder, etc). I try to do things simply, and on a low budget, but time after time of not feeling that I measure up has made me stop posting about knitting and spinning entirely. In many ways, this saddens me, but fiber is only one part of my life. I’m still knitting and spinning, but it’s become private, and something I do for myself…maybe someday I’ll share it again, but I will seek a balance, and will try not to care if anyone finds my projects uninspiring. It’s what works for *me*.
Often on knitting blogs, the writer seems very one-dimensional, posting about her latest aquisitions without seeming to have a care in the world for what kind of impact that new purchase may have (environmental, financial, etc.). You clearly *do* care, and it would be a shame if your voice wasn’t out there… I hope you have more to say.
September 7th, 2006 at 3:00 pm
Hey there Knittiot. I don’t check out your blog much, but when I do, I’m always amazed how well you put your thoughts into words. I know exactly what you mean about the consumerism of knitting. I find myself getting sucked into it from time to time wanting to buy more yarn, but I remember my stash. Thankfully, I never got into the really expensive yarn, just buying the good stuff on sale occasionally. I don’t plan on buying anymore yarn and use up what I have to make some goodies for my son and my new baby due in March.
I hope you’re doing well in Philadelphia. You aren’t missing much here in Syracuse. Say hi to Mr. Knittiot for me and David.