I recently caught the knitting bug. All I want to do is knit. My hands, in some deep, instinctual way, want to be knitting. The movement is calming and meditative. I almost don’t even mind when I have to tear out a row of stitches because that just means I’ll get to knit them all again.
But knitting time is cutting into my writing time. And I have all these guilty feelings around that, like I’ve tried to take on the name of “writer,” and I’m not doing it right. I’m not setting my clock for a specific writing time every day and turning out a certain number of pages a week. In some ways, I feel like I’m letting my “writer self” down.
And yet, I feel so much peace when I’m knitting, like my hands are taking some of the burden of movement that my mind usually carries.
Sometimes I think all my writing – all my posts about creativity – say the same thing:
Figure out what feeds you.
Not what you wish would feed you, what you think feeds other people, what you think should feed you.
Figure out what really feeds you. Today. And then do that.
A friend told me once that the Universe keeps giving you the same lesson until you learn it.
And I guess, in my case, that feels true. I have the same struggles over and over again on this creative journey. I write these little letters to myself, and I call them blog posts. But they’re for me, really. So I can remind myself again and again…and yet again that no one has the corner on a creative life. Part of living a creative life is creating a creative life. They don’t come in readymade kits.
Today knitting feeds me. But you can ask me again tomorrow.
It just might be something different.