Casting Off With Confidence

A thoughtful (and slightly cheeky) reflection on the art of finishing well—both in knitting and in life. From casting off your stitches to letting go of projects that no longer serve you, this post explores why endings matter and how to do them with confidence.

MINDFULNESSLIFE LESSONS

Nessa Hubbard

8/5/20252 min read

Casting Off With Confidence

There’s nothing quite like the emotional chaos of casting off.

You’ve spent hours—days!—knitting something gorgeous, possibly while muttering to yourself, possibly while watching reruns of Midsomer Murders. And then comes the final row.

Easy, right? Just bind off.

Except... what if it’s too tight? Or too floppy? What if you ruin the whole thing right at the end? What if the edge screams “handmade” (and not in the good way)?

Honestly, casting off is its own kind of craft.

You can have perfectly even stitches, the dreamiest yarn, the neatest shaping—and then botch it at the final moment. Ask me how I know. (Don’t. I’m still haunted by the purple t-shirt I started and never quite loved.)

But the thing is: this isn’t just a knitting problem. It’s a life problem.

We’re not great at endings. Not really. We ghost, we fizzle, we drag things out because they’re “fine” and we’d rather not have The Big Conversation—whether with a person, a project, or a mystery object that’s been living in your WIP basket since 2019.

Casting off takes decision-making. It takes care. And it takes a bit of courage.

Last month I showed off all 22 of my WIPs—yes, twenty-two. Some people declutter wardrobes; I inventory half-finished socks. But the good news is: decisions were made. Every project now has a fate—finish, frog, or feature. And starting in September, we’re letting the WIP Wheel decide what gets worked on next. Because sometimes accountability looks like spinning a wheel and hoping it doesn’t land on that one scarf.

An Invitation

So here’s your invitation this week:

What are you still dragging along—creatively or otherwise—that could use a proper cast-off?

What needs finishing, or frogging, or blessing and releasing into the great yarn bin of the universe?

What would it take to end it well—not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with a deep breath and a tidy edge?

It’s something I talk about often in my teaching—especially when helping knitters build confidence in their own decisions. Not perfect. Not Instagrammable. Just right for you.

Because yes, starting is brave. But finishing? That’s a whole other level of courage.

And you’ve absolutely got it.

Nessa