One summer, years ago, I did an internship at Harper Collins. In their basement they had this great big bookshelf with a bunch of books you could take for free and I would be there browsing and stocking up every week. I remember finding and reading a small book called
"The Knitting Sutra," which was about one woman's passion for and study of knitting in different cultures. The idea of knitting as a Sutra or prayer and meditation really appealed to me. I imagine that because of the repetitive nature of knitting, it has been interpreted in many cultures as sort of a silent chant. For myself, it is often a way to center and focus my mind away from troubling thoughts, from a cycle of disturbed contemplation spinning out of control, seemingly with no end. To me knitting is a prayer that manifests itself in my hands immediately. Knit and purl are the only building blocks for knitting and hundreds of combinations result in as many patterns. To make something functional with your own hands is to truly feel some measure of control over what you produce, something which our society has rapidly lost all touch which. We would sooner pay hundreds of dollars for something handmade than make it ourselves. And I'm not judging. I consume way more than I create no matter how much I wish it was otherwise.
I usually start knitting for the purpose gaining some much needed equilibrium than that I need one more scarf. Although this fall, I fully intend to commit myself to learning how to crotchet and to make something seamless or knit in the
round. I deeply admire people who make things with their hands that we use in everyday life whether functional, ornamental or both. Even if it takes me a while to complete, I want to at least know that I have the ability to complete a hat or sweater or a pair of mittens, something to wear or give a a gift to keep someone warm with intentions and well wishes as well as wool.
