Knitted Back Together

One of the reasons I love knitting so much is that it can fill many holes in your life. It does this not just in stitches and rows and projects, but in the passion it brings into your life and especially in the people it brings into your life.

Over the past 4 years, I've met my husband, dated him, fought with him, and finally married him, learned to be frugal, quit a job without a definite safety net, went to school to change careers, changed careers, got laid off from my latest job, and decided to switch back. I've gained pets and lost pets. I've moved three times, once from the Northeast, the area I've always lived in and where I grew up, to the South, which is as much of a culture shock as visiting a different country. I've lost weight, I've gained it back. My first car finally gave up the ghost.

Nothing is the same. For a while, after my last job ended, I fell into a pretty serious depression. I've only started to feel better in the past couple of weeks, and today I found myself thinking about why. I thought about the fact that we moved, which usually helps for a while, and the fact that my husband and his family have been very supportive (they are gems, really), while my family (not so supportive) has not been in touch. I thought about the fact that I've been able to sleep properly and get some decent rest and relaxation. But then I thought about knitting. Both the craft, and the group of women I started crafting with when I moved here about a year and a half ago. It is both of those things, I believe, that have led to my recent recovery.

The act of knitting always soothes my senses (at least until my counts are off!) because of the flow and it's repetitive nature, as well as the fact that something GROWS from it. When you progress on a knitting project, you see something tangible from your efforts. It's more than the results of, say, running the dishwasher. You've created something, something that hasn't been created before (even if that pattern's been made a dozen times).

The people brought into my life because of knitting have literally knitted me back together this summer. These long-suffering ladies have encouraged me every week and given me a sense of purpose at a time where I felt purposeless. They've listened, told me repeatedly that this is not my fault when the only person I could blame was myself, made constructive suggestions, didn't take it personally when I didn't act on them but just stared at the wall most of the summer, and lots of other things I'm sure I'm forgetting. They managed to break past the hard piece of stone that serves for my head and penetrate my depression and my fog. I will never forget any one of these people for that.

These two factors -- craft, and the people involved in the craft -- are some of the major reasons why spirituality and craft are so linked.

I just started applying for new jobs. While nothing's really come of the whole process yet, this is such progress for me. I'm knitted back together now. I still need some work -- I'm not nearly finished, and I may have a dropped stitch or two, but I'm getting there -- slowly but surely, and I have knitting to thank.