Knitting and Reading and Yoga
Reading TK's brief aside about how our knitting and reading habits resemble one another got me thinking. And I know most of you don't want to hear, yet again, about how knitting is the new yoga. But, stick with me here for a paragraph or two, and maybe it will seem a bit more palatable.
Story: when I was at my yoga therapy training in Louisiana, I occasionally worked on the Cabled Bolero. And the number of yoga teachers who wandered over, inquired about the project, and then explained why they didn't knit was astounding. Especially because these are folks who are knowledgable about how deeply ingrained our habits are, and how we spend most of our existence repeating the same behaviors over and over. Yet, one would say to me, "I can't knit because I'm too impatient." Another explained that knitting was not for her because she sets ridiculously high expectations and then feels disappointed when her knitting doesn't meet the standard that she has set.
I was surprised. Because if yoga has taught me anything, it's that we dig a path for ourselves, or it is dug for us by our parents or teachers or culture, and we keep following that path in everything that we do. Yoga is a mirror. It illuminates who we are, warts and irritating habits and foibles and talents and enthusiasms. Yoga doesn't change you; it just shows you more clearly who you are, and then, hopefully, gives you some awareness to make a choice whether you want to stay on that same rocky path, or try a new one.
And knitting and reading do the same thing, I think. Here's my knitting for the day. Square #2 seamed while watching marathon episodes of Heroes. Colors not that accurate in the lamp-lit living room. Sunlight does more justice to this project.
Story: when I was at my yoga therapy training in Louisiana, I occasionally worked on the Cabled Bolero. And the number of yoga teachers who wandered over, inquired about the project, and then explained why they didn't knit was astounding. Especially because these are folks who are knowledgable about how deeply ingrained our habits are, and how we spend most of our existence repeating the same behaviors over and over. Yet, one would say to me, "I can't knit because I'm too impatient." Another explained that knitting was not for her because she sets ridiculously high expectations and then feels disappointed when her knitting doesn't meet the standard that she has set.
I was surprised. Because if yoga has taught me anything, it's that we dig a path for ourselves, or it is dug for us by our parents or teachers or culture, and we keep following that path in everything that we do. Yoga is a mirror. It illuminates who we are, warts and irritating habits and foibles and talents and enthusiasms. Yoga doesn't change you; it just shows you more clearly who you are, and then, hopefully, gives you some awareness to make a choice whether you want to stay on that same rocky path, or try a new one.
And knitting and reading do the same thing, I think. Here's my knitting for the day. Square #2 seamed while watching marathon episodes of Heroes. Colors not that accurate in the lamp-lit living room. Sunlight does more justice to this project.
Comments
Another beautiful square. I like the contrasts in this one.
There seem to be many correlations between our habits doing "meditative" things. Maybe it's all about finding that moment of peace, or quiet, or introspection, or whatever we find when we're doing it. (I'm not even going to bother to tell you why I don't do yoga.