More haste, less speed

At first glance, a book about dropping the hustle culture doesn’t seem to have much in common with knitting. But as I’ve been reading Emma Gannon’s new book - The Success Myth - with my trusty highlighter at the ready, I found myself drawing so many parallels between these two separate subjects.

First of all, if you haven’t yet come across this book may I heartily recommend it to you. The strapline is “Our obsession with achievement is a trap. This is how to break free” - and if that’s doesn’t make you sit up and pay attention then nothing will.

She goes on to talk about how there is often an astounding gap between our cultural definitions of success and where people report that they find genuine happiness.

One thing that really jumped out at me was the concept she talked about, about process goals vs milestone goals. And questioning whether the end goal is worth the process of getting there.

The process goal is not just about the goal itself but about experiencing it, being present for it, noticing the time spent on it and learning to congratulate yourself along the way.

Emma Gannon, The Success Myth

I was immediately struck by the two categories that knitters often define themselves in terms of - they are either product knitters or process knitters.

Product knitters, according to the stereotype are solely motivated by the end result (this would be a process goal according to Emma’s book). They don’t much care about how they get to the finished object, as long as they do. For them, the sense of achievement is in completing the project, being able to gift it or to wear it and generally enjoying the fruits of their labours.

Process knitters in contrast are often happy to give away their finished items - they have very little emotional attachment to them. For a process knitter the joy and the satisfaction comes in the actual crafting of the piece. It could be the sense of relaxation they get from sitting down in their favourite chair to work on something, or the peace of mind in knowing they have a half finished sock in their handbag, ready to combat waiting-room anxiety should it be needed.

The reality is of course that most of us are somewhere between these two extremes.

I regularly knit things just for the sake of having something to knit - baby hats, plain vanilla socks and mitered square blankets are my default projects when I crave something to work on. I’m rarely knitting these with the end in mind. It’s all about the doing.

Occasionally I will see a pattern or a yarn and decide that I simply have to have that ‘thing’ in my life. It might be a sweater or a shawl but either way, I really want to have that finished object and I’m willing to do any amount of knitting (even if I might not actually enjoy the knitting very much) in order to get it. The last time I fell under this spell I saw a pattern for a popular brioche shawl. I loved the design, the yarn colours and the model’s hair - don’t laugh.

In my minds eye I could see myself perfectly wearing the shawl, being effortlessly elegant - one might almost say willowy - and yes, with fabulous hair. And so many people shared my excitement. I eagerly scrolled Instagram posts where people were showing their yarn choices and comparing different colour palettes

Of course, I needed the shawl first before I could look like the model so I raided my stash and cast on. Then I remembered that I really don’t like brioche very much. I love the effect of it and the texture it creates. I love the interplay of colours and how it can really bring a design to life. But I really don’t enjoy the knitting of it.

But I was determined, and so I persevered. I fudged it where I made mistakes (ripping back brioche is a herculean task that I wasn’t up to) and I knit on. After a few weeks of hard and not particularly enjoyable knitting I finished the shawl.

I couldn’t wait to block it and excitedly waited to unpin it and wear it.

I’m sure you’ve guessed the ending by now but reader - I did not love the shawl. In my hurry to cast on I’d picked colours that with hindsight didn’t quite work together. I could see all the little fudged bits where my brioche stitches had gone awry. And, more importantly I still looked like me and not the fabulous model.

I can make light of it now but at the time I was really cross with myself. I had spent many hours knitting the shawl, really not enjoying large sections of it. And determinedly ignoring the quiet voice in my head telling me that I wasn’t going to be happy with the finished project. A little less speed, and a little more focus on some process goals might have helped me to make better use of my time (and yarn) and I might have actually ended up with something I would wear out in public.

Moral of the story? I’m not sure there is one. But I have definitely taken this lesson on board, and when questioning whether to start a new project asking myself if I’ll enjoy the process is a good start.