What's Worth Doing is Worth Doing So-So

​By Linda Schaefer

I have been in a bit of a knitting slump over the past couple of months. Although I haven't stopped knitting, my outcomes have been underwhelming. In moments when I can be kind to myself, I realize that my focus is compromised by the stresses that plague us all at some time or another: family issues, world issues, personal issues. 

At one point I announced that I was going to knit no more this year. The idea of tossing all of my unsuccessful projects onto a blazing bonfire seemed reasonable. In calmer moments I pictured myself boxing up all of my yarn and donating it to delighted recipients to be knit and crocheted into blankets and hats and scarves for those in need. Imagining my once overflowing closets now empty was somewhat calming.

But once the dramatic wave subsided, I took a gentler look at the situation. Was I disappointed that a pattern I really liked and had worked on for months didn't fit? Yes, I was. Was I frustrated with the fact that I'd believed I'd done the preliminary work before starting the project and it still wasn't right? You bet I was. Did I promise myself that I'd do the math more carefully next time? Ask Jennifer. While all of those things were true, another reality crept into my consciousness: though I considered myself a failure, I had to admit that I'd learned a lot.

Even though the main project I'd been working on was eventually unraveled, the beautiful yarn relegated to a box to be dealt with in the future, I conquered several techniques that I thought would be out of my wheelhouse and created new neural pathways, something I celebrate. I learned how to do the Italian or tubular bind off and now love the process. I learned how to do an Italian cast on, concentrating hard and starting over again and again and finally working it out and enjoying the finished look. I learned how to attach a double knit placket and a new way to do buttonholes at the same time, which created a beautiful design and professional finish to the piece. 

My father used to say "What's worth doing is worth doing so-so." To me that means that there is value in attempting to do things that you may not ultimately be proficient in because otherwise you mightn't try anything new at all. Worrying about not doing something perfectly, or even well, robs us of learning new things that we might enjoy doing just so-so. This adage certainly rang true upon my evaluation of my knitting. So-so is fine. Mistakes are fine, because in fact they are lessons, and we can all stand to learn new things.