The Third Possibility

It's really hard for us to imagine that we made a bad decision so we won't give it up. Sometimes we made a perfectly good decision, but the circumstances have changed. But in that situation, we don't want to give up, because somehow we think it invalidates the decision we made in the first place. Remember, we are making decisions under uncertainty and I think that's part of the problem is that we forget there's a third possibility: you made a perfectly fine decision, and then you found out new stuff. --Annie Duke

When I discovered podcasts, it was like a whole world opened up before me. I have a hard time focusing on reading, but I like to learn about new things and I love to listen to stories and ideas. Podcasts are perfect for someone like me, who needs to be doing something in order to focus. I listen to podcasts when I'm walking to work, when I'm having a bath, and of course, when I am knitting. And one podcast often leads me to another and to another. You'd think that would be overwhelming, but to me, it feels like an abundance of gifts that are waiting to be opened and enjoyed. It's really my thing.

One of my new favourite podcasts is called A Slight Change of Plans, with Maya Shankar. The description says it all:

Host Maya Shankar blends compassionate storytelling with the science of human behavior to help us understand who we are and who we become in the face of a big change.

I listened this morning to an episode featuring Annie Duke called, "The Science of Quitting." As someone who has had many, many jobs in her life, this podcast attracted me like a moth to a flame. I have never really been that comfortable with how many times I have left jobs (I can't even use the word "quit") but I've learned (and continue to learn) how each of those jobs has shaped who I am and what I am capable of. If anything, I've learned how flexible I can be, and I've watched how my identity has changed and continues to change as life carries on.

Naturally, it made me think of some of my knitting, because I am a yarn-head after all. I spent some time yesterday digging through my closet, looking for some of my warmer clothes and editing out all of the stuff that I'm not really wearing anymore. Some of those things include some of my past knitting projects.

It's only in recent years that I've had to learn to let go of some of the things I've made in the past. After all, you can only have so much closet space, and it makes me uncomfortable to hold onto things that I'm just not wearing anymore. It's hard to think of all the time you might have invested in a project to have to let it go, but that quote at the beginning of this post sums it up: sometimes, you change, and you find out new stuff. It doesn't invalidate the experience. It's just that stuff changes.

So yesterday was about recycling, giving away, and indeed throwing out stuff that I am just not wearing, and that was hard. But it was also about making stuff wearing again. For example, my awesome striped sweater that I made a couple of years ago:

The button band was just not working for me, and I hated how the front swung open every time I wore it. I made the decision to sit down and sew the front shut:

And when I put it on again, it was like having a brand new sweater that I know for sure I can wear and feel comfortable in.

Apparently, button bands are still a problem for me, because I pulled out my re-engineered Svalbard Sweater. I thought I was being really smart by changing from a swingy front cardigan which I knew I'd hate to a more traditional front with buttonholes. Again, apparently I need more practice with buttonholes because every time I buttoned it up, the whole front gaped and sagged unflatteringly. I just wasn't wearing it, and therefore I felt sad every time I pulled it out of the closet. So I went ahead and sewed the front shut on this one as well, and I already know that I'll be wearing it next week to work. I feel so happy to have my sweater back:

And I'm still so in love with stitch design on the back:

And I'm so happy to be able to enjoy the beautiful buttons again:

I think that when you make clothes, you have to be ok with the fact that sometimes you will really not like the result. And for me, it challenges my creativity to make the thing that I spent so much time on into something wearable again. It also makes me more comfortable with my experiments, because as time has gone on, my confidence in making alterations, changing directions, and even giving up has increased. It's ok to quit in knitting. It's ok to quit anytime. It frees up your mind to enjoy life again.

I've almost finished the second side of my current knitting experiment, and it's already evolved into three different kinds of tops in my mind. It will be interesting to see how it all plays out, but what I am most interested in is how many times I have found myself saying, "Man... I love knitting this thing." Because I do. I'm enjoying how every single row is playing out. And even if I don't end up wearing this thing all that often, I feel like it was a good decision to try knitting it:

It reminds me of when I told my dad when I got engaged. I was living in the UK, and it was new and exciting, but it also meant that I was not going to be coming home again. It made me sad and nervous to tell my family, but I can still hear his voice saying to me: "I know you won't make a bad decision."

And now I'm crying. I miss you, Dad.

I think it's time to make the decision for a cup of tea. Have a good week.