Knitting & Fishing :: Returning to Myself ::

Meet Begonia.

Okay, her name is actually Sonja but I call her my Begonia. She lives with me on Flanders street in a house that holds 4 other women (Six of us in total. Yeah).

Sonja Begonia is my buddy in many ways. We go to church together, sing together, laugh together, cry together, appreciate boy bands together and are sassy together. And this only describes a few aspects of our relationship. ;) Sonja is an awesome woman of many talents (especially when it comes to music and gardening), but one thing she loves to do in her spare time is knit! When perusing my list, she graciously offered to help me with #21 - become confident at knitting. I was stoked! 

But first, before getting into all of that, a story of my knitting past...

I first became interested in knitting when my life time friend, Wendy, told me that it was her new hobby. Like so many other things we love to share, she told me that I "had to" learn to knit because she was knitting. In times past I've acquiesced to her demands (she had seldom lead me astray), but I was growing more independent. So I told her that I would think about it, dreading the reality that I probably would. But that was okay; I like learning new things. I always found knitting fascinating enough and somewhat glamorous. Glamorous in the sense that it was something "exotic and off limits" to me (ha, how's that for a description of knitting?!). It seemed like something I could never do or something that wasn't available to me. Then one day I found a cheesy murder mystery series involving a knitting club. I devoured the book; it made knitting seem REALLY cool. If worse came to worse and I got bored, I could stab someone with my knitting needles and a great story could unfold. ;) Since knitting could also double as a convenient weapon when need be, I decided at that moment that I was willing to give it a shot. 

But I still didn't step outside my comfort zone. It was a small thing really, but I wasn't ready for it. Perhaps everything on my list represents an area of life that I wasn't ready to step into but finally am. Finally ready to expand my comfort zone. Or perhaps, in general as I approach 30, I am excited to step into myself, realizing that I like to live outside the comfort zone. Always pushing a little farther. 

Regardless, one day I was visiting my friend Becky. She, too, is an awesome woman + knitter. We snuggled up on her couch and got ready to watch "Eat, Pray, Love". She pulled out her knitting supplies and I casually remarked, "I've always wanted to learn to knit." She turned to me and quickly said, "Would you like to learn now?" I froze. "Uhhh...". She proceeded anyways. Before I knew it she had gifted me with a beautiful creamy, soft yarn, knitting needles and empowerment. She took the next half hour to show me how to knit, all the while gently reminding me that I can do it. 

I started knitting a dish cloth two years ago. I finished the dish cloth about two weeks ago. And here's how it turned out:

HA! It's a slightly terrible. 

Not really in the shape of a square at all (this picture doesn't do the hilarity of my masterpiece justice). Yet, I think it beautiful! Mostly because I did it. I finished it after two years! And Sonja, in the way a parent approves of their child's artwork, loves it too. Like Becky, she seized the moment with me and told me I could finish. That truth nudged me deep within. She was right. I could. And so, I did. :) We went shopping for yarn to celebrate and now I am moving on to bigger and better things... like scarves! 

(though I am still going to practice making dish cloths re: Sonja's advice).

I am currently knitting an infinity scarf with a beautiful black yarn. 

And I am doing pretty well so far. 

Consistency is the key. I have to stick with it. Sonja reminded me that it's hard to have a project turn out "perfectly" if you don't touch it for over a year. My dish cloth came out askew because I avoided it and then came back to it. Back and forth, back and forth. I needed to stay in the game. In addition, I am not the same knitter now as I was then. I am not the same Hannah either. I developed over time... and apparently I relaxed a bit as I faced the challenge. I settled into the stitch and the overall project became better. In-congruent, but better. 

And now one more small thing in this life has taught me to deal with my fears and perfectionism. That it's okay to have things turn out different than hoped for or planned and that I can fumble my way through. This may seem like a small mountain to climb for some, but it's been rewarding to do something outside of my comfort zone, something that people wouldn't expect of me - something I wouldn't expect of myself. I am glad Wendy first mentioned it to me. I am glad I took Becky up on her offer and I am glad she didn't really give me a choice.  

Father Gregory Boyle quotes Alice Miller in Tattoos on the Heart. Dr. Miller believes that we are called to be enlightened witness to those around us, especially those who have experienced severe trauma and pain. I am numbered among those who have experienced severe trauma and pain. That's why it's taken me almost 30 years to take even the tiniest of steps into myself... to walk in my own footsteps. Dr. Miller & Father Gregory both agree that when these enlightened witnesses fulfill their role in a person's life, through their focused, attentive love and tenderness, they help return a person to him/herself. 

"Return people to themselves." I sigh at the thought. It's all I want. For myself and for others. It's all I want. The day that Becky started me knitting she did just that: she returned me to myself. 

Becky always quoted this proverb and she lived by it too: "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." I believe in that moment on her couch she decided "No more fishies for you, Hannah. It's time you learn to cast the net for yourself." When we venture out and try something new - big or small - they are our daily acts of courage. I believe that it takes these daily acts of courage to return us to ourselves. Thank you for the gift, Becky. Of fishing. Of healing. You gave me a lot more than yarn. You gave me faith; you gave me back a piece of myself.

Love, 

H :: 

:: This tiny journey with knitting began because of Wendy, was enacted because of Becky and was finalized because of Sonja. Thanks for the help, ladies. It means a ton! ::