Simpleminded

[darkemeralds]

I tried to knit this:

(Arpeggio by Maria Leigh on Ravelry)

It appealed to me because its design embodies a high order of complexity. Everything about it is difficult and demanding--the stitch, the construction method, the shaping, the sizing, the finishing. It's hard to cast on, hard to bind off, and unforgiving for every row in between.

I thought I could do it, but I couldn't. Everything difficult about it was, for me, actually impossible.



Admitting defeat on the Arpeggio sweater was a big deal. I abandoned knitting altogether for more than a year rather than face it.

vampirefan kept nudging me, though, and a couple of months ago I decided to reboot my relaxing hobby by making this:

(from the All The Shades of Truth wrap pattern by Laura Aylor on Ravelry

I turned my nose up at the pattern because it embodied almost no complexity. It was easy to start, easy to end, and easy to keep track of in between. So I finished it. And what's more, I'm happy with it. (Thank you, vampirefan!)

Conceding to its simplicity has triggered a disturbing realization: my nature is not nearly as capable of complexity as I've wanted to believe. No matter how much I like the idea of tricky puzzles and nuanced, elegant constructions, I'm not very good at them.

I have a simple mind.

There's been plenty of evidence for this over the years. My spatial reasoning test scores were in the basement. I have no sense of direction. There's an absolutely chronic need to overdesign my projects and a concomitant failure to finish them. My past is littered with unused yarn and unwritten novels.

I've been a Squib in my career, too, unable to achieve modest goals through compromise and patience, stressed out by my colleagues' inability to see my glorious vision. Why are there all these DETAILS and MOVING PARTS and CALCULATIONS between here and there? And why are you bothering me with them?

Yesterday, ravurian accused me of wanting to write "something of genius, of brilliance, of consequence."

"Deliberately setting out to write that way," he said, "is a recipe for anxiety and stagnation."

He's not far from the mark: I want to make things that are complex. Wheels within wheels, technique upon technique, layers meshing together into something gorgeous and elegant and highly ordered: the cardigan, the novel, the uncompromisingly efficient program, the perfect small living space.

The fact is, I can't. It's not in my nature.

Stagnation and anxiety--not to mention self-loathing--from of all my creative failures has been heavier than I knew, and it's a relief to let them go. But I think I may need a period of mourning for the part of me, however imaginary, that I'm now killing off.

Maybe once it's buried I can do something with the mind I've actually got.

Comments

[tehomet]

I sympathise. It took me a long time to realise that, for me, if a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing badly. Roll the bones and see what happens, that's what I try to do.

[darkemeralds]

That's interesting--your take-a-chance approach is like the other side of the coin to mine. I wonder if fundamentally different learning styles are present here. Like, inductive versus deductive or something like that. Maybe you learn and gain skill by trying something complex and gradually figuring it out, and I get further by building up from the simplest base.

The big learning for me here has been realizing that about myself. I suspect that your approach has a lot more texture, and probably results in better stories, too.

[tehomet]

As usual, you are too kind. :)

I think my approach is not so much lightheartedly a sort of 'take a chance' tactic, although that would be lovely, as a case of me feeling so much fear of/anxiety about pretty much everything that, in order to try anything new, I have to give myself permission to be crap at it before beginning. Perfectionism for me is another word for paralysis. I have to flail around just to get moving! And I'm okay with that, finally.

Although I'm sorry your cardigan didn't work out, FWIW I think it wouldn't have been half as beautiful as that fantastic wrap.

[darkemeralds]

Perfectionism, I think, is paralysis for most people who have that characteristic. It certainly is for me.

I'm really glad I made this post, because the ensuing conversations have given me a lot to think about. I realize on thinking over your comment that I've tried to do what you do--give myself permission to be crap at something--and it seems to be beyond my capability. I'm beginning to see that there's another way out of the perfection-paralysis trap, and that's to do simpler things to begin with. I hadn't thought about from that angle. It's very helpful.

So, thank you!