How many times can one screw up before one gives up?
When I played softball as a kid, my dad used to tell me that when you are born, there is a designated amount of times that a person can mess up in their life. So when someone misses a catch on the field, that is one less catch a person will miss later in life.
Sadly that is not the reality of life — some all-knowing power didn’t give a person a specific amount of times they can stub their toe and cuss in front of their grandparents before they won’t do it again.
But what is the point of persevering if there is no assurance that one will never have to go through the frustration again? Why keep doing difficult things?
Throughout the different challenges in my life, one has brought me closer to the answer of this difficult question: knitting. Ultimately, knitting has taught me that people should persevere because when someone looks back on the challenges they faced, they can see the lessons they learned and the new person they have grown into.
There are many kinds of fiber arts, but at the naive age of five, I chose to indulge in crocheting and knitting. As I sat next to my grandma on her tan leather couch, she so generously taught my squirmy and impatient self how to wield these needles of unlimited imagination. I was able to make anything once I got the hang of two very simple stitches.
The constant and repetitive motions of knitting and crocheting also came with constant and repetitive amounts of screw ups. This is where I got the idea of how many times I can screw up before I am knitting a perfect cable knit sweater.
My hobbies have allowed me to express myself in ways not always expected of a teenager.
Reflecting on what I have learned from crochet and knitting, there are a couple things that stand out.
You are bound to mess up. I am convinced the sole reason why fiber arts was created is to humble humans.
With the strength of my five-year-old fingers, I learned to knit with minimal patience. I learned that to get to the end goal, I must struggle endlessly.
While struggle is inevitable, it brings beautiful imperfections.
Although my first couple patches vaguely resembled something of swiss cheese, they were still beautiful. But they were beautiful because they were unique. There was time and effort put into them, which would eventually blossom into something that was once unimaginable for a piece of string to become.
Slowly but surely over time, my stitches became more consistent and prettier. My knitwear turned from unintentionally holey wearables to people telling me I need to sell my work.
Every piece I whipped up showed my slow but subtle growth as a crocheter. They were tiny frames into my past that allowed me to remember where I started my journey.
That leads me to my final lesson in the fiber arts: No matter how fast my fingers can produce a nicely knit sweater, always remember the journey because that is what made you, well, you.
The struggles and the screw ups are just part of the love for the craft. While there have been many days where I want to throw my tools across the room, in the back of my mind, I know the act is a chance for me to grow.
I call on each person to give these hobbies a try, then another try and another. Then maybe after that, try again. Many consider knitting and crochet a “grandma hobby,” but when you look deeper than the surface of an old craft, you may be surprised.
Every time I crochet or knit, I get a snapshot back to the life I was living during the project. While the start of something complicated can be frustrating, the journey will help you grow and create memories that you never thought you would experience.
Audrey Day is a sports reporter for The Beacon. She can be reached at daya28@up.edu.
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