Insight Without Action Is...

Normal?

For me it seems.

So, this is the first step of doing something about an insight I recently had. The insight? I have read and learned a great deal, and I have thought about what I've learned and how it could be applied.

And I have applied it — in my head.

Which reminds me of my dad's favorite photography saying "I've taken hundreds of great pictures, too bad there wasn't any film in the camera."

I've come up with great business ideas, written wonderful blog posts, taken stunning photographs and created gorgeous knitwear — in my head.  

Now for some reason, lately, this lesson has come back to me over and over in the last month.

In October I took a photography course on how to take photos of my fiber from Franklin Habit. Remember him? This time I was in my element sitting with my new DSLR, my point and shoot and my phone. I learned how I could use each effectively and while I thought I knew about photography from my past, this helped me see the differences between shooting with film and digitally. I finally understood all the cool things that can now be done. But the one thing that Franklin kept emphasizing was "if you don't practice what you've learned, get the camera out and start experimenting, your photos aren't going to get any better." (I put quotes there, but it's a bit paraphrased.) I left class determined that my camera would go with me everywhere. I would experiment with lighting and backgrounds. I would examine previous photos and see what I could have improved. I've had the insight...

There's been no action.

Last week I participated in a wonderful, online Great Work MBA program that was pulled together by Michael Bungay Stanier of Box of Crayons. (If you haven't encountered Michael's work yet, take a look. You'll be glad you did.) The program was brilliant. The people he interviewed were brilliant. I took page after page of notes that were brilliant .

At the end of each interview, Michael would ask us to take a moment to reflect on what two key things we wanted to remember from the interview, and then what one action were we going to take. Five days of interviews + five speakers a day (should) = twenty-five actions. Right? For the past week I've thought a great deal about the brilliant things I learned.

There's been no action.

At the end of the week, I was sharing with a friend an idea I had. It was a venture that would move me into something that was more aligned with who I am and what I'm good at. I was excited as I told her about it and the steps I'd been thinking about to move in that direction. Something that both the photography class and the Great Work MBA made me believe was attainable. She told me to hurry and write it down...

There's been no action.

Last night was the final nudge. At knitting I was complaining about a hat I knit and knew I could do better. Knew that it didn't meet my standards. That every time Mike put it on, I'd cringe. Finally one of my fiber friends said (again, paraphrasing) "Rip it out already."

And this time, there has been action. 

So this is my public declaration that it's time to take action on some of those other things. My photography, my writing, and my great ideas (well, to me anyway — they're brilliant!) To quit complaining and just "Rip it out already." Thank you Franklin, Michael and Malee.

Blog post acknowledging insight written? Check! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go cast on stitches for a new hat, write a business plan and pull out the camera ... before I think about it too long.

If the Sweater Fits...

I knit shawls. Lots of them. In different shapes and colors. The number of shawl patterns I have is obscene and I keep finding more I want to do. Really! It's a sickness ... 


I have yarn to do socks and I have a lot of yarn in sweater quantities for ... wait for it ... sweaters. Other knitters in my local store are more versatile in their projects - a sock here, a shawl there, a sweater now and again. 

But I seem to be stuck on shawls. And I finally think I've figured out why.




A shawl always fits. If it's too small, it's a shawlette. Too large? Maybe a throw. You kinda can't go wrong with a shawl.

I've made a pair of socks. I am still waiting for Big Foot to claim them

A sweater? In the past month I've watched no less than three knitters try on sweaters that were closer to completion than they were to beginning. As they got ready to put the sweater on, the rest of the us held our breath. We all knew what was coming. We all knew this was a moment of truth. And we all knew what it feels like when it becomes obvious that what you're doing isn't working. All that work, now what?

So we watched, holding our breath, crossing our fingers ...

Only one of those knitters was able to continue, the other two tried to figure out how to make what they'd done better. Seems there's really no way to make a sweater that's too small get bigger. Or stretch a too tight bind-off that makes the front of the cardigan shorter than the rest of the hem.  

Believe me, in the hopes that the fit was only an optical illusion, making it fit was tried. Yank here, pull there. Even the delusion 'that S#!T will block right out' wasn't convincing. The only thing that was going to work was ripping back and redoing. And potentially ripping back and redoing ... again.

My guess is that both of those sweaters are currently in time out until the knitters have the heart to face them again. As of last night, the third sweater was almost done.

I can't face knitting a sweater right now. 

The stress of moving my mom closer and keeping up with work and home has been, um, not good for my weight. Ice cream? Yes, please! Potato chips? You bet! Salad? Yeah, not so much.

So while I have a sweater's worth of yarn, I don't know that I have a sweater's worth of yarn for one that would fit me right now. And I really couldn't face spending all that time knitting only to find out I didn't have enough.

Life's too complicated at the moment. Knitting is my happy place.

For the time being? I'll knit shawls. They fit.