Knitting As Therapy; Workshop News
Thursday 27th March 2014
The news recently told us some stuff I am *sure* we didn’t know.
Knitting can reduce stress and lift depression. No shizzle, Sherlock! OK. Maybe not Transalvanian lace wrangling (with neeps), steeking a Martian Moebius, or whatever stitching craze is sweeping the Ravs, but just, you know, regular, happy knitting. A bit of lace, a bit of colour, a lot of repetition. Soothing. Comforting. Rewarding.
Yep. We know this because Someone has conducted A Study. It’s also been in the
Mail On-Line so it must be right. As usual, poor old SJP is dragged up to prove that knitting is hot with
les celebs, plus a man I do not know and also someone unpronounceable, again, unknown to me.
I have offered loads of universities access to my knitting workshops, so they can observe the stress reduction in progress. So far, no takers. But just so you are aware, next time you are here,
chez Millington et moi, some dudes in white lab coats, with a bunch of iPads (that’s what science dudes have now, instead of clip-boards) might have rocked up and be observing us, de-stressing and being up-lifted. Or, knitting, as I call it.
I have blogged before about knitting as therapy. For myself, it’s been a life companion, from whom I have no intention of
consciously uncoupling. (If you do not get that reference, you really do need to get up to speed with the incredibly sad-making celebrity blog-arrhea that is the outpouring of Ms G Paltrow’s site, Goop. No. In fact, don’t bother. It will only make you really angry).
Knitting has seen me through many dark days, even weeks or months, if I am honest. Last year included a lengthy gloomy episode, with bonus stress and anxiety thrown in. This is now, happily, all over. In fact, 2014 looks like kicking 2013’s sorry arse right back where it belongs. However, as the last few months of 2013 (or ‘that total thunder-twat of a year’, as it is affectionately known here), ticked endlessly by, I knitted on. I had to! I was teaching, and I had been commissioned to knit stuff, and so on.
The days – weeks – of industrious design and knitting, plus to a much lesser extent, other work that I often engage in to prove to myself how much I love knitting, and also, to buy wool – kept my, often fairly fragile mental balance, let’s be honest, just this side of the rocking, drooling and giving up end of the spectrum.
I wasn’t depressed. Well, I probably was, a bit, but only because of the real problem. I was afraid. Anxiety and fear are my constant companions. But right now, I have sprinted ahead of them for a bit. I could create, win, and then break my own world record in The Worrying Olympics. Year after year. I don’t know why I am like this, but there we are. I do know why I have blue eyes (technically, more grey than blue but whatevs). I know why I have (had) kind of sandy coloured hair and masses of freckles. Latter still with me, I wish they’d sod off.
But why is my nature so wracked with this flaw? That’s a rhetorical question, but if you do happen to know, and can suggest a cure, I will knit you
anything you like (sub-clause: not you, intarsia). To be fair, I did have some actual stuff to be afraid about. It wasn’t my usual bog-standard irrational fear, of the kind that I am more used to dealing with. But anyway, on days when I could hardly function, eat much, go out except to run – I knitted. And right after I started knitting, the therapy kind of kicked in.
Some months after this first began, I feel much MUCH better. Issues have been resolved, solutions have been identified and executed. New pastures have been explored, even inhabited and made to feel all homey and safe, with throws and cushions. Now, when I look back some interesting facts occur to me. One, when I look at the patterns that I designed and knitted during this roughly three month period, I do recall the emotions and feelings that I experienced then, but in a muted, tonal form; and with a great sense of relief, I find that they feel a bit academic. Happily, the knitting is not tainted with the feelings from which it was created. In fact, I am much more fond of these designs than any others that I have created because I – and this is a physical feeling, not so much an emotion – sense how the
making of them pulled me back up.
Two, and I have no idea how this is the case, because at the time, I felt that each day was an eternity, and each day, as this was October initially, grew longer and also literally darker, but now, that entire few month period appears to me to have passed in some fast-forward time frame. The only freeze-frame moments feature either an especially tense moment (‘tense’ is a euphemism, obvs), OR a knitting breakthrough. Otherwise, perhaps with nature’s kindly veil-drawing habit, the worst of it now seems to have happened perhaps to someone else, and also, to have been very brief, though neither of these is true, of course. It’s fanciful, I know. I know I was there. I have the knitting, the audio book bills and the mental scars to prove it. And yet, it seems to feature some other person.
And three, making bargains with the Knitting Gods totes works. That would be, for example:
Me: if I can design this, write the pattern and knit it twice in 5 days, everything will be OK, right?
(Also) Me, but playing the part of the Knitting God(s): yep.
(5 days later…)
Me: OK, I didn’t *quite* do that task, but IF I can do it in the next 2 days, it’ll all be cool, yeah?
(Also) Me, but playing the part of the Knitting God(s): yes. But…this is the last extension to your Knitting God Bargain, OK?
It works, people, it works. Try it. You’re welcome!
Now – Workshops!
There are a lot of new events on the site that I added about a fortnight ago, but the thing is, due, I assume, to all other knitting workshops in the UK being cancelled, all the 2014 events are now full, except for 2 places on the
Half Moon Shawl course in June. I also added a day for January 2015 and this has 4 spaces left. If you want to come on any of my courses, please
email me as I do get cancellations from time to time and I will be very happy to add you to my Special List. Also, if enough folks indicate that they’d have liked to attend a specific course, I will certainly try and run a repeat.
Knitting IS a lifesaver – but sequins can be suicidal if you’re not very careful!
True *hides new project adorned with a bazillion sequins* X