On Knitting and Delayed Gratification
Yesterday on the bus to work, I overheard a conversation between a young lady (maybe 20ish, with punk style) and two much older women. The young one asked the difference between knitting and crocheting, which one had two needles, which one had one. An older woman replied that knitting uses two needles while crocheting uses a hook. The young woman then objected to the very concept, who can just sit there for hours? Who has that kind of patience? The old ladies smiled. Then the girl contemplated how she plays guitar, which takes hours of patience, but at least she gets instant gratification of hearing her song right away. Then it was her stop and she left.
That started me thinking about the instant gratification of knitting. The soothing repetition and patterns. The feeling of nice wool running past my fingers. The feeling I’m a part of something greater than myself, a herstorical loom of skill that’s been woven for hundreds or thousands of years.
And then beyond, is appreciating the gratification that I did not learn to enjoy as a young person, but only in my 30s have I even begun to appreciate. The amazing feeling of creating something that DOES take time, that does take skill and discipline and patience, is so much more infinitely gratifiying than something you can make on the spot with little effort.
Yes, I like getting older. I’m looking forward to my 40s and we’ll talk then about my 50s 