Let me start by saying that anyone who says they knit as a stress reliever is lying. Knitting is difficult. It requires math and keeping track of stitches and patterns and taking notes and counting. There is a famous knitting book called Knitting Without Tears, for goodness sakes.
However, I have also been accused of not being able to relax properly, and I suppose if you consider it in that way, knitting is my version of forcing myself to just STOP. When I watch a movie, for instance, I’m thinking about all of the things I am actively not doing because I’m watching a movie. So I pick up a pair of needles and am suddenly quite content to sit still for a couple of hours, doing “nothing” and “relaxing.”
Let’s summarize: knitting as relaxation? Not exactly. Rewarding? Heck, yes.
I hadn’t thought much of my knitting compulsion in terms of self-sufficiency until I embarked on a personal challenge during December to wear a different item I had knitted myself every day of the month (more on the 30+1 handknits project at my old crafting/things I like blog). During the project, I started thinking about canning, gardening, baking, focusing on low-processed foods, and knitting as different spokes on the same wheel. I like the idea of limiting how many stores I need to frequent and products I need to buy. Knitting is a super satisfying way to make a teeny, tiny dent. Plus, it’s really satisfying to be able to clothe yourself with nothing more than two pointy sticks and a ball (or five) of yarn.
Dirty little secret time? I want to learn how to knit my own undies. How rad would that be?! And super-duper secret, i.e. don’t tell Chris? I want sheep. Someday, I will have sheep, and I will make my own yarn.
So I’d like to take this opportunity to pour some out for the sheep. One day (after much studying, learning, and apprenticing, most likely – as well as moving, of course), you will be MINE.