Over the summer I pulled all my half finished knitting projects off the needles. I boldly cut my knitting with scissors. I threw it away. I wound leftovers into balls. I put it all in the closet. I shut the door.
Relief, that's what I felt. A deep breath. A freedom from the stress of unfinished work. What little free time I used to have seems to have slowly eroded, and knitting took the hit. Accomplishment might have felt better, but freedom felt good.
My sister in law knit a beautiful scarf this Christmas. While I am a Good-Enough-Girl, she's an admitted perfectionist. Her secret: she doesn't choose many hobbies, but in every chosen area she pursues perfection. This just makes me sigh. How could I choose four out of a thousand interests? I have so many questions to Google I can't even remember them all. Lately I've been considering economics. My former experience? Umm...none. Economics may be a victim of Time-budget cuts.
Or, how can I be a perfectionist when everything I make is fatally flawed? Perfectionism is a path strewn with frustration. Good enough is a safer route. My mom likes to argue that this in itself is perfectionism; but never mind my mom. She's a perfectionist too.
But, the scarf! With my sister in law's hearty encouragement, pattern in hand, I ordered the yarn. I cast on. I ripped off. I'm all the way to row four of my beautiful scarf. It's been three days.
I will, however, be firm with myself. No more projects until this scarf is done. That is, no more big projects until this scarf is done.
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