Knit two, purl two I silently recited as I worked across my knitting project, a hand warmer for my granddaughter. I came to the cable stitch part and something was not right. I stared at the stitches.
“What.” I exclaimed out loud. I went back over my stitches and thought I saw the problem. I backed up and started over only to discover the same problem.
“Geese, what is going on.” I unraveled and then counted my stitches. 38. “Oh, come on.” I said. “How’d that happen.”
There was supposed to be 40. I studied and studied that hand warmer looking for dropped stitches and none were to be found. I realized that it must have been when I was making the thumb hole. Maybe I didn’t make enough stitches. That could be the only answer. This, however, was only one problem in a series of problems with this project.
When I first started out I had 42 instead of forty stitches. I thought I could just decrease and no one would be the wiser. Not! I made the whole thing. Stitched up the sides and it looked atrocious. The bottom bulged out. I took the whole darn thing apart and started over. Finally, it looked good. I moved on to making the other hand and was happy with it. I went to put them on to see how they looked only to discover I made two right hands. I’m practically in tears now. Instead of unraveling, which is a chore, I started another left hand being careful that that is what I was making, which BTW, I thought I did the last time. My mood spiraled downward.
Why do I even bother, I thought. Nothing I do is ever enough. But then I’m thinking, but wait, isn’t what I think really just a projection. (for an in-depth discussion on projection check out the blog’s Matrignosis two-part series The Space Odyssey of Projection.) Then that would mean I think what people give me isn’t enough. It seems circular. What I give isn’t enough, what others give isn’t enough. It was then I realized that I give with strings attached. I expect the person to not just like what I give them but to like me. And that is impossible for deep down inside I feel no one could ever really like me. A limiting belief I thought I healed but apparently its roots run deep, which is why I feel what I do or give is never enough and why I am desperate for my gifts to be “perfect”, which they can never be. Giving should (that is if I use the word should, which I really should never do but I am going to anyway) be about giving for the joy of giving. Not so others will like me. How can I do this I wonder?
Well, I guess the only way is to give when I want to. Now that is hard to do. How do I know when I am giving because I want to? The only way would be to take a minute and really think before I say yes or decide to give or make a gift. I might as well try to be perfect I snort.
I remember I was making an elaborate afghan as a gift and I was showing my progress in my knitting circle. Everyone oohed and ahhed and I shouted out spontaneously, “She’s going to really like me now!” Now, that should have been my first clue. I was doing it to be liked. If I took the time and really delved into or and paid attention to what I was saying and realized what my hidden motive was, I could help myself realize that I need to start with love for myself first because I think I’m doing something because I want to only to discover that my strings are showing. Then would be the time to sit, breathe, reassure myself, love myself, comfort the part of me that feels no one could ever love her. By doing this I may even enjoy the work and maybe I won’t make as many mistakes. I mean it would take the pressure off.
I don’t know if it will work. In theory that is the way. All I know is something’s got to give because I can’t go on this way. So, I am going to start with myself first. Love myself. Janice, your ok. 🙂