Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Not really a knitting post

So.  I'm in therapy.  The effect that the body has on the mind and vice versa would, as a dear friend observed,  be fascinating and interesting if it weren't happening to me.  There are times when it is fascinating and interesting but there are times of great pain.  And times of lesser pain and times of bewilderment and times of ...peace.  More peace than there's been in years.

On the stormy days, when the cycle between grief/rage/denial/hurt and calm is two hours of agony followed by ten minutes of peace before it cycles back to agony, I ask WHY AM I DOING THIS?

One of those times, I was knitting. Knitting keeps the hands busy.  No stress eating while you're knitting.  No throwing breakables at walls.  Just ...yarn, yummy soft yarn, pretty needles.  Concentrate on the tactile details.

I am knitting a baby blanket, and I'm about 80% done.  I looked down at the blanket and wondered what I would do if I noticed a mistake in the second row that threw everything else out of kilter. I would whine, throw up my hands, declare I was never knitting anything ever again ...and then take it out and do it over.

The unraveling would be painful.  Ask any knitter.  That pile of spaghetti that is a project ripped back is an assault to the senses.  Row by rebuilt row, we're just not happy until we're moving forward again, that is, knitting up yarn that hasn't been knit yet.

I think therapy is like that.  I'm unraveling, back to where the hurt started, to events that made me think I wasn't good enough, I could never be good enough, I am not, even now, good enough, and I'm reknitting.  Only this time, the mistakes aren't there, and the resultant work will be better.


I think the pain is worth it.


kayelizabethday said...

The pain is worth it. I know God does not waste pain.

And just so you know, I think you're plenty good enough. :)

Swallow in the Wind said...

Hi Susan,
Sorry to hear about your blues. Hang in there; "this too shall pass".

What you're saying sounds like the depression I went through after I came off chemotherapy. Dark clouds of "EVERYTHING'S WRONG!" would bowl me over for awhile, then lift and I'd get back on my feet again until the next round.

Marcia said...


corrie said...

What a beautiful analogy. Thanks for sharing and inspiring even when you're in the midst of it.

Love and prayers.

Janet Sketchley said...

The knitting analogy makes perfect sense. And you are good enough! You. Susan. Are. Good. Enough.

Because Jesus designed and made you. The Master Craftsman, Himself.

He who will heal you and grow you already loves you just like you are.

It's not about what you can do, it's about whose you are. And I know words don't mean much when a person is hurting. I'm hurting a bit too, but not this much. I'll be praying for you, and I wish we lived close enough to actually meet and do the dog walk around the lake together. {{hugs}}

I'm glad therapy and prayer are making a difference.

Heather Plett said...

Unraveling takes courage. You are brave.