by Carolyn Mason
I believe that choosing not to excel at an endeavor can be freeing.
I can knit a scarf in one night. Pick your color, width and length and if House re-runs are on, you can expect your creation the next morning. It can be long and thin or short and wide. It can have funky fringe on the ends or just a nice cast-off row of neat stitches. But don’t ask for a matching hat, sweater, mittens or vest, because I am a one-stitch scarf wonder, and that’s all I plan to learn how to do.
Sure, I could go to knitting class, and I’m intelligent enough to follow a pattern -- knit a row, purl a row. I could figure out how to count stitches, subtract rows and make intricate designs. As tempting as it is to consider making an adorable matching hat to go with the scarf; that’s what I am deliberately planning not to do.
I love wrapping a freshly finished scarf around the neck of the newest recipient. My friends, family and the checkout lady at the grocery store get to pick soft and fuzzy or sharp and crisp -- any color or texture they desire. As long as they understand it will always consist of a single stitch -- knit. No patterns, no zigzags, no designs, just long fluffy scarves to ward off cold or boredom or whatever talisman you wish it to be. These are not excellent scarves or even imaginative ones. These are mediocre scarves in an inspired, complicated scarf world.
I’ve not always been this average.
I’ve always bought into the philosophy that if you are going to do something, you should do it well. But there’s a caveat and I believe you don’t have to excel at every endeavor.
Choosing mediocrity can be freeing. It can relieve you of the anxiety to improve and the urge to compete. When I discovered the joy of knitting it hit me that while I yearned to make scarves, I was afraid to learn too much. “Just teach me one stitch,” I begged my mother, who was well on her way up the knitting hierarchy. She took me to her knitting shop where they know her by name and speak a secret knitting lady language. I didn’t let on that I deliberately planned to be a one-stitch scarf knitter, someone who intended to settle for less. It’s practically unheard of to suggest you don’t intend to better yourself.
In this newest endeavor, I plan to stay simple and uncomplicated. I’m going to stitch joy and love into each scarf, and if you leave it in your drawer, drag it in the mud or lose it at the park, it won’t matter. What matters is that I created something for the sheer purpose of giving it away, and I believe that's a true gft to myself.
