Crafting Philosophical

In my first years at college, knitting was a huge escape for me--a time where I could let my thoughts run wild and free and just sink into the rhythm of the crossing needles.

I brought my knitting needles with me to Austria this year to afford myself just such an escape--an escape to craft land, where time, space, and stress dissipate into a large cloud of meandering thoughts, feelings, ideas, and sometimes, really important personal revelations.

As far as that last bit goes, well, there haven't been any huge personal revelations or existential crises in the recent days, but there have been little moments of finding (often again) what is important out of life.

In crafting, your mind has time to lead you places you need to be--in my case, to the understanding that I am living my dream here this year in a German-speaking nation surrounded by supportive, giving, and interesting people; that  this opportunity is an incredible one--to be able to hone and develop my skills as a public speaker, lecturer, and educator every day in a German-speaking nation. Wow.

Unfortunately, these simple truths tumble through the cracks in the floorboards of my mind when the going gets tough. I concentrate too hard, focus too keenly on important future matters, like what happens next year? This question is something I should be planning for, but I don't want to let it obscure the possibilities for experiencing joy, confronting challenges, and  and enriching my community that I have now.

When crafting, I can let the constant din of worry in my mind clatter into the wide open air, dissipating into dull white noise. Freed from clutter, my mind can rove; I have not only time, but also mental space and energy to reflect on the large and small matters of life and renew my commitment to the ways I want to live it.

Crafting is therefore often for me not about the final product, but rather the experience, and sometimes even the principle of the journey. When I make something I like or that succeeds in its intention, I feel doubly rewarded, but its not necessary.  My most ambitious and perhaps most ghastly knitting project--a red and camo (don't ask) skirt I attempted to make in college--afforded me some crucial hours of time for reflection about life, love, and friendship. When the skirt came out a misshapen mess, I knew instantly it didn't matter.

Here are a few things I've made recently--some needle-felted pumpkins (see below) and the "Q-tip scarf," which started out as a garland for a different craft and ended up as this.