How I know where I am when I’m knitting

There’s a moment I find myself in quite often when I’m knitting. I’ll be working along quite happily, and then something shifts. Not dramatically. Nothing has gone obviously wrong. But something doesn’t feel quite settled in my hands. How do I handle that?

PROJECT PLANNINGLIFE LESSONSKNITTING CONFIDENCE®MINDFULNESS

Nessa Hubbard

4/14/20262 min read

How I know where I am when I’m knitting

There’s a moment I find myself in quite often when I’m knitting. I’ll be working along quite happily, and then something shifts. Not dramatically. Nothing has gone obviously wrong. But something doesn’t feel quite settled in my hands. It’s usually at that point that I stop. Not to fix anything straight away, and not because I’ve spotted a mistake. Just to look.

Over time, I’ve realised that this is a part of knitting I rely on more than anything else, and it’s not something I was ever really taught. I was shown how to do things, but not what to do in that quieter moment when you’re not entirely sure what you’re looking at.

So when I pause, there are a few things I naturally notice, though it doesn’t feel structured when I’m doing it. Sometimes I’m simply trying to read the fabric. What have I actually done here? Where am I in the row? What is this section meant to be doing? Other times it’s more about the pattern. Am I where I think I am? Does this line up with what I’ve just worked, or have I drifted slightly without noticing? Occasionally it’s a question of whether something needs fixing. Not every mistake does. Some things I’ll leave. Some things I’ll adjust. But I’ve learned not to rush that decision. And quite often, it comes down to choosing what to do next. Do I carry on? Do I pause a bit longer? Do I undo a few stitches and work them again more carefully?

None of this feels complicated when I’m sitting with it. But I do know sometimes it feels completely unclear for a moment, when I assume I’ve done something wrong simply because I didn’t understand what I was seeing. But I have learned that it is part of the process. Not something to get through, but something to use.

I don’t expect myself to know everything as I go. I just expect myself to be able to stop, look at the work, and give it a moment of proper attention before deciding what to do. That’s enough most of the time. It’s something I’ve found myself coming back to again and again, in my own knitting (and in life), without really naming it. Just a way of working that has gradually become normal.

If you’ve ever had that feeling of not quite knowing where you are, it might not be that anything has gone wrong. You might just need a moment to look at it properly.

Nessa