Beneath The Blankey Round 7: The Rainbow

In this year of first retirements, I’ve crocheted 4 baby blankets for friends.  It’s been a very welcome place of joy in a very strange 9 months.  I find that I fall in love with each piece over the course of its making.  This week, I’m sharing each of the 7 baby blankets I’ve ever made, here and on Instagram.  May it be a place of rest and joy for you, too, in this year we call 2020.

#7 THE RAINBOW

  • Made: August-October 2020
  • Finished B.B. (before baby): Yes!  With the yarn being perpetually out of stock it was a near thing, though…
  • Relative difficulty & PITA: 4/10.  Figuring out a new (excellent) pattern and the delay waiting for yarn were the only wrinkles in an otherwise lovely experience.
  • Pattern Used: Spin Your Granny Square by Stitched Up Craft, available on Ravelry and Etsy.  I can’t say enough good things about this pattern – if you buy only one crochet pattern, let it be this one.
  • Yarn Used: Paintbox Simply DK in Paper White, Blush Pink, Peach Orange, Banana Cream, Pistachio Green, Washed Teal and Dusty Rose.

I’d been eyeing the “Spin Your Granny Square” (SYGS) pattern for a while, since I have a granny square UFO (UnFinished Object – geeky textile slang ha!) that’s been sitting around since 2013.  Looking for new inspiration, I came across Stitched Up Craft’s pattern, laboriously re-drew my plan for that blanket, and then promptly forgot about it.  Again.

But that’s okay, because our last baby of 2020 (so far) brought it back to my attention.  Reaching out to dad-to-be, he shared a picture of their rainbow themed nursery, and I was thrilled to find a rainbow pattern to match.  (Because, remember, it isn’t all about me, but some of it definitely is.)  The SYGS pattern showcases some fantastic rainbow blankets, and it was pretty much a done deal after that.

I used a new yarn for this project, Paintbox Simply DK.  The Paintbox yarns are an artist’s delight, with such a thorough range of shades, and just looking at the skeins when they arrived was a pure pleasure.

This pattern allows for “joining as you go” – the jargon for attaching granny squares throughout the process instead of making some 70-odd squares and then tackling how to turn them into a blanket.  It also makes for some singularly lovely WIP imagery as the rows take shape diagonally.

Really, the only challenge in the process was that I didn’t order enough of the white yarn, and as you might expect, that yarn was then out of stock for over a month.  When I finally saw it back in stock and gleefully placed an order, it arrived…and lo and behold, I ordered the WRONG yarn.  Right color, wrong yarn.  Funny, right?  Not exactly.

There were so many firsts in this blanket.  New yarn (and new experience of not being able to just run out to the craft store and get more).  New pattern.  New color palette.  New baby and new family, since this is mom-and-dad-to-be’s first.

The process of making their blankey really cemented for me why I so enjoy making baby blankets.  Liminal spaces like birth are so strong that they’re one of the places in modern American life where we still feel drawn to ritual, where we are in contact with the divineness and wholeness of being.  It’s one of the spaces where our village, whatever form that takes for us, comes together to support the heroes stepping into that next moment.  Because we recognize the step is so big, so far into the unknown, that people need to be (symbolically or practically) held up and carried through, as much as they need to walk their own path.  To participate in that – as the weaver, the artist, the grandma-aunt-crone who has the time and the knowledge to MAKE within this sacred moment – well, that’s powerful stuff.

I do it because I WANT people to ooh and aah and tell me how good I am.  Of course I do.  But I also do it because it seems to me a very needed act of grace in these life milestones, for someone to spend TIME, stitch by stitch, thinking about and praying about the process that’s unfolding.  And putting some more love out there in our collective consciousness.

Thankfully, there are a lot of these acts of kindness out there in the world, taking all shapes and forms.  Paying for the coffee of the person behind you in line is a spell no less valuable in adding to someone’s joy or comfort.  I’m drawn to people’s kindness, their thoughtfulness, when they reach out to someone.  Perhaps that’s why these baby blankets have loomed so large in my journey this year.  In the absence of closeness, hug-to-hug connection, our gestures are so important.

This was the first blanket where I made a real effort to track time.  A friend and I clocked one square at about 15 minutes, meaning the squares themselves took about 16½ hours.  With joining and borders, this was probably a 20-25 hour project, which is pretty reasonable for my speed and skill level.

And that wraps up this miniseries!  I hope you’ve enjoyed a peek Beneath the Blankey this week.  It’s been so fun for me to reminisce over each of these objects and share them with you.  Sending you all my best wishes for the rest of this year as we head into snuggly blankey weather.

With love, Nikki

Beneath The Blankey Round 6: The Surprise

In this year of first retirements, I’ve crocheted 4 baby blankets for friends.  It’s been a very welcome place of joy in a very strange 9 months.  I find that I fall in love with each piece over the course of its making.  This week, I’m sharing each of the 7 baby blankets I’ve ever made, here and on Instagram.  May it be a place of rest and joy for you, too, in this year we call 2020.

#6 THE SURPRISE

  • Made: July 2020
  • Finished B.B. (before baby): Heck no – I only found out about this little peanut right before her arrival.
  • Relative difficulty & PITA: 0/10 – this was my third chevron blanket in less than 12 months.  Practice makes perfect, and the “hardest” part of this project was deciding on the stripe pattern.
  • Pattern Used: Loosely adapted from THE MODERN, which is based on the Ripple Baby Blanket by Daisy Cottage Designs (also available on Etsy and Ravelry).
  • Yarn Used: Lion Brand Feels Like Butta in White, Pink and Dusty Pink

When I say this blankey was a surprise, the surprise was totally on my side.  While finishing up a “Zoom happy hour,” that most 2020 of all social gatherings, a friend shared her big news – she was expecting her second child in less than a month!

For lots of reasons (it was only a month! she lives in Hong Kong!) I didn’t worry about trying to make a blanket in time for her baby’s arrival.  But when she shared the news of her daughter’s birth, I couldn’t resist the opportunity.

THE SURPRISE was particularly sweet for me, because I missed a lot of friends’ babies during my long hiatus from crocheting, including this friend’s first.  When you handcraft something for friends, it can feel a little upsetting to know that there are friends you miss.  I was super glad to have a second opportunity with this family.

It was also really fun to think and plan a handmade blanket for a second baby, since we often reserve the biggest gestures and heirloom offerings for first babies.  I took a special kind of pleasure in thinking of this blanket being made JUST FOR HER.  And lastly, it was so much fun to work in pink!  I hadn’t really done anything over the top in a “traditionally” gendered color palette, and I relished the girliness.

This blankey made life easy-peasy.  I had 2/3 of the yarn colors I needed in my stash; I knew the pattern very well by this point, having made 3 other chevron projects recently; and I was getting cocky, starting to practice stitching without looking at the work.  (It still feels like a kind of parlor trick, but I’m looking forward to the day I can fully watch TV and stitch along.)

Because of all my recent practice with chevrons, I am so proud of the finish on this piece.  There are none of the scraggly stitches that marked earlier attempts.  It’s the first thing I could in good conscience have put up for sale.  And in its own way, even though it was relatively simple, it’s an heirloom, too, made with love for a very specific little soul.  And it’s PINK.  Did I mention it’s pink?

I had a silky pink jacket when I was a baby-toddler that I apparently would NOT take off, or so said my mom.  Who knows what this little girl’s favorite colors or wardrobe will turn out to be?  That’s the possibility of babies, isn’t it?  We have no idea where they’ll lead us.

I can’t wait to find out.

Beneath The Blankey BONUS ROUND!

In this year of first retirements, I’ve crocheted 4 baby blankets for friends.  It’s been a very welcome place of joy in a very strange 9 months.  I find that I fall in love with each piece over the course of its making.  This week, I’m sharing each of the 7 baby blankets I’ve ever made, here and on Instagram.  May it be a place of rest and joy for you, too, in this year we call 2020.

BONUS ROUND: Baby Not-blankets

In between THE CLASSIC AND THE MODERN, there are two other projects that bookend the baby blanket saga.  While these weren’t blankets, they were for babies, so I’m including them here as a quick stopover.

Both feature my all-time favorite hat.  The Divine Hat by Sarah Arnold is one of those patterns that will make you feel like you really *can* crochet, even as a total beginner.  It’s easy, it’s fast, and it looks great!

The little cardigan was my first go at making a real garment and made me feel so accomplished.  So much so, I couldn’t wait for it to finish drying after blocking, so it was still damp when I wrapped it up to give (wow).

Okay, we’re in the home stretch now! Stay tuned for the final two blankeys, coming up tomorrow.

Beneath The Blankey Round 5: The Ocean

In this year of first retirements, I’ve crocheted 4 baby blankets for friends.  It’s been a very welcome place of joy in a very strange 9 months.  I find that I fall in love with each piece over the course of its making.  This week, I’m sharing each of the 7 baby blankets I’ve ever made, here and on Instagram.  May it be a place of rest and joy for you, too, in this year we call 2020.

#5 THE OCEAN

  • Made: April-May 2020
  • Finished B.B. (before baby): Yep!  We’re on a roll!
  • Relative difficulty & PITA: 2/10. A little tough to find the specific colors I wanted for the ombre.
  • Pattern Used: Inspired by Bahama Waves Baby Blanket, but I ended up using a standard chevron pattern.  And tassels!  The tassels were my idea.
  • Yarn Used: Lion Brand Feels Like Butta in White, Dusty Blue, Sage and Teal

THE OCEAN was made for the second baby 2020 conspired to keep me from meeting.  Pre-pandemic, I’d planned to spend a few weeks with THE TOUCHY-FEELY’s mom following her birth.  I also assumed I’d be able to deliver THE OCEAN in person. 

But April, when I started on this blankey, was a month of suspended animation.  I was still unpacking from my move when lockdown started.  Tasks I’d put off while getting my home in order were now further delayed or on hold indefinitely.  Whole weeks went by when I didn’t drive a car or speak to another person face to face.  And it seemed clear that “back to normal” was not just around the corner.  How was I going to live a normal life in this very not-normal moment?  I think we were all asking some version of that question in April.

In a journal entry from this time, I made a list of “some things that are going well” in an attempt to focus on the positive.  Here’s a few:

  • Seeds are sprouting
  • My books are unpacked
  • Marsha’s (my cat) newfound “outside personality” on our balcony

The balcony has been a particular gift, overlooking a lake that feeds into the Chesapeake Bay.  Being near water is so good, and the only thing better than the balcony is my 10 minute walk to the beach.

Which brings us to THE OCEAN.  Now, this mommy-to-be and I had picked out her blanket pattern long before I knew I’d be living by the beach this year. But I do think there was something serendipitous at work.  Both mom and I love the water.  Baby-to-be and I also share our zodiac sign, Cancer (a water sign).  And here I was wading in the ocean a few times a week.  Water everywhere.  The inspiration pattern I used draws you in with these beautiful jewel tone shades of ocean water.  I loved the ombre effect and the wide stripes with a more gentle, wavy chevron.  (The pattern is gorgeous, but I ended up simplifying it to a basic double crochet chevron.)

I also decided to add tassels for a little extra flair (and maybe some cool points)?  I think it gives the piece an almost tapestry quality, and I’m told its new owner loves to munch on them (can you stand the cuteness???).

Funny enough, this is one blankey that always felt a little unfinished.  I think it turned out beautifully, but it just never seemed 100% perfect.  Maybe it was that I couldn’t find *exactly* the shades of yarn I pictured in my mind…maybe it was the less than perfect definition of the edges…

But you know what?  Mom sent me a picture just this week, and it’s immediately obvious that all it was missing was its baby!  And that is a very happy ending.

Beneath The Blankey Round 4: The Touchy-Feely

In this year of first retirements, I’ve crocheted 4 baby blankets for friends.  It’s been a very welcome place of joy in a very strange 9 months.  I find that I fall in love with each piece over the course of its making.  This week, I’m sharing each of the 7 baby blankets I’ve ever made, here and on Instagram.  May it be a place of rest and joy for you, too, in this year we call 2020.

#4 THE TOUCHY-FEELY

  • Made: January-March 2020
  • Finished B.B. (before baby): Ye-e-e-s?  If I remember right I mailed this on the due date?  But the baby was kind enough to wait for me, so it counts!
  • Relative difficulty & PITA: 5/10. So much counting.
  • Pattern Used: Bernat Crochet Diamond Bobble Baby Blanket
  • Yarn Used: Bernat Baby Velvet in White

I started this blanket the day after I left my job, January 18th.  Remember January?  So full of possibility!

However, 9 months later, on October 15, 2020, my January plans seem reckless to the point of ridiculous.  What did I do, you ask?  I flew cross-country (two full flights!) to a nature retreat for a contact improvisation workshop.  That’s right – I spent the first part of 2020 in full body contact with total strangers, sharing a cabin, nude sauna, hot springs and a dance studio.  Oh, man…January…

Oregon was breathtakingly beautiful

Anyway, I knew January would also be about baby blankets for me because I had a friend due on St. Patrick’s Day.  I was riding high after THE MODERN, so not only did I tell mom-to-be I’d make her a blanket, we picked out the pattern together.  I know, I know…who even am I?  But it’s cool.  All’s well that ends well, and sometimes you just have to live dangerously.

This pattern uses strategically placed bobble stitches (bobble bobble bobble) to create a textural diamond lattice across the surface.

bobble stitches in their natural habitat

To add to the sensory smorgasbord, I used the Bernat Baby Velvet yarn recommended by the pattern.  Remember those chenille bedspreads from the 1950s?  This is a sleeker, grown-up cousin.  It’s the kind of yarn that will stop you in a Michaels just to get a feel. 

Between the sculptural pattern and the softness of the yarn, this blankey more than earned its name as THE TOUCHY-FEELY.  It was a magnet for touch while I worked on it, getting more love from the people around me – in 4 different states! – than anything I can remember.  (Don’t worry, I washed it.)

Hooking on the road. Clockwise from left, the original gauge swatch on an airplane tray table, lap work in the back of a van and on display in my hotel room.

To make that diamond pattern, each row in the repeat required a different mental arithmetic so that the bobbles (bobble bobble bobble*) lined up perfectly.  It’s an easy pattern, but definitely not a mindless one, and I spent my fair share of time ripping out rows when I found a stray bump where it shouldn’t have been.  But egads!  This was a beautiful piece.  I’m a sucker for understated aesthetics, so the pattern-created-by-texture-instead-of-color made me swoon just a little.  And the chunkiness of the yarn made everything delightfully squashy and brought down the formality of the pattern, keeping it from being too proper.

Even though I made a full gauge swatch (the way you determine how big the finished piece will be) I way overshot the width of the row.  That meant to get the proportions I wanted, this ended up being a rather large square.  Basically a baby blanket for adults.  (Actually, that sounds pretty good.)

I also gave mom a video preview during blocking**, which gives me this delightful piece of film where I unveil it like a Christmas ham.

Which is perfect, because this mom and I have a tradition of cooking, baking and snuggling under warm blankets in October to watch Christmas movies, because that’s what we need just then.

Merry Christmas, every one!

*Please tell me you are saying it like “gobble gobble gobble.” It will make me happy.

**Blocking is a process I hate (and if you’re a crocheter you’ve already noticed from THE CLASSIC that I don’t do it, even when I should).  Basically, by laying a damp piece of crochet work on a flat surface you can adjust the final shape and ensure the stitches look their best (especially valuable with unusual shapes, lace, etc.).  It really does make a difference in the finished piece, but…I don’t wanna.

Beneath The Blankey Round 3: The Modern

In this year of first retirements, I’ve crocheted 4 baby blankets for friends.  It’s been a very welcome place of joy in a very strange 9 months.  I find that I fall in love with each piece over the course of its making.  This week, I’m sharing each of the 7 baby blankets I’ve ever made, here and on Instagram.  May it be a place of rest and joy for you, too, in this year we call 2020.

#3 THE MODERN

  • Made: 2019
  • Finished B.B. (before baby): YES!  Emphatically yes – the only one I ever delivered in person at an official baby shower.
  • Relative difficulty & PITA: 3.5/10. My first time working a chevron/ripple pattern, and some embarrassing missteps with the border.  But I’d mellowed out since 2013 and it just wasn’t as big a deal.
  • Pattern Used: Ripple Baby Blanket by Daisy Cottage Designs (also available on Etsy and Ravelry) with my own custom stripe pattern.
  • Yarn Used: Lion Brand Feels Like Butta in Ice, Pale Gray and Charcoal

So much happened after 2013…none of it related to crochet.  As a small summary, those years included: getting into the best shape of my life (and then the worst); adopting a second cat (kitten) that my first cat hated, then making the horrible, impossible decision to euthanize him at 2 years old after a series of emergency interventions and surgery; job searching and job finding; moving to a new state; some of the most intense professional periods of my life; a car crash that put me in the hospital with vertigo (I do not recommend it)…

Yeah, I guess it’s not too surprising that hobbies like crocheting fell out of my life for a time.

I am quietly delighted that what drew me back was babies.

And here, a small word about babies.  I have never wanted any of my own.  This was so well known when I was a teenager and young adult that it became a sort of eye-rolling fun fact about me with friends and family.  Sureeeeee, they said, we’ll see how long that lasts after you’re married…  Well, I’m still not married at 41 (no subtext here, please), and with one exception* I have never, ever wanted children.  I do love babies and children, in doses.  I’m a happy time-share parent and honorary auntie to some very fabulous small humans.  But in this matter, I simply prefer to rent, rather than own.

So yeah, by 2019, I had enough mental space available to start noticing other people again.  As a rule, you can always find a friend or acquaintance who’s expecting if you look hard enough.  I found myself noticing the women in my life who were pregnant and thinking, I know what to do.  It was fun to play in yarn again.  I was, however, careful to give no indication to the mom-to-be of what I was doing, in case of failure or loss of interest.  I’m practical that way.

Mom had shared her nursery theme, which was decidedly fresh and modern.  It worked out fantastically for a tonal color palette and dare I say, almost cool result.  I credit the Feels Like Butta yarn for keeping me invested, as it’s the softest “normal” looking yarn I’ve ever touched.  Very yummy.

I liked the idea of a stripe, and since chevron/ripple is probably #2 in terms of most recognizable crochet patterns after granny squares, it was an easy choice.  Ripples are fast, easy, and distinctive.  Add to this the ability to customize with colors, width of stripes and so on – it was baby blanket nirvana.  This, I thought, was something I could do again.

Now, I do have to introduce one small wrinkle into all this bliss.  The border.  Well, shit.  I was ready to be done.  I didn’t feel like experimenting to figure out exactly how to stitch into the sides of the ripple rows.  So…at the edge of this clean little blankey is the most raggedy-looking line of border stitches.  It hurts my eyes.  It’s cringeworthy.  But, done is better than perfect.  *grits teeth* DONE IS BETTER THAN PERFECT.

Oh the humanity!

All in all, this was a great little first jaunt back into baby blanket world.  I’m grateful to this little guy; if it hadn’t been so easy, so soft, so pretty and so fast, who knows if I would have kept going?  But don’t worry, because this is where things REALLY start to heat up.  Stay tuned for 2020, where it feels like everyone I know tells me they’re pregnant…the stuff of blankey dreams.

*Except for the horrible, body-snatching feeling I experienced in my mid-thirties as hormones went into overdrive and tried to convince me: BABY.  No, no, I politely explained, babies were not for me.  BUT BABY!!! the slavering beast insisted.  It was not a settling experience.

Beneath The Blankey Round 2: The Classic

In this year of first retirements, I’ve crocheted 4 baby blankets for friends.  It’s been a very welcome place of joy in a very strange 9 months.  I find that I fall in love with each piece over the course of its making.  This week, I’m sharing each of the 7 baby blankets I’ve ever made, here and on Instagram.  May it be a place of rest and joy for you, too, in this year we call 2020.

#2 THE CLASSIC

  • Made: 2013
  • Finished B.B. (before baby): I can’t remember, so 50/50? Fun fact – this was my first international baby, sent to a friend in the UK.
  • Relative difficulty & PITA: Solid 5/10. Pattern-wise, this was all very straightforward. But an ever-expanding granny square means every round takes longer than the last. Think “99 bottles of beer on the wall” but every verse gets exponentially longer.
  • Pattern Used: No real pattern for the body; it’s just one big granny square with a few color changes. I can’t find the original link for the border anymore, but it’s a take on simplified pineapple stitch lace.

Well.  After that first blankey, I had learned a few things.

  1. I loved making baby blankets!
    • They provide the satisfaction of a whole blanket, at a fraction of the size!
    • They’re made for other people, so when you’re done with them, they graciously leave your house – so polite!
    • When it comes to babies, people are hardwired to ooh and aah and generally show (or at least feign) interest.  Carrying crochet work around and replying “I’m making a baby blanket” is a pretty reliable ego boost.
    • Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

So, this was all good news. However, I also knew that:

  1. I needed to find something simpler and quicker than THE HEIRLOOM if I was going to keep this up.
    • This really comes down to the time investment – it just takes too damn long. And – it’s best to be honest with yourself – I am not fast enough or motivated enough to follow through.  (In fact, these days I just rule out these kinds of patterns.  To get something like this from me now, we need to have BEEN THROUGH SOME SHIT.)

Additionally…

  1. It is ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL to keep key details like the pattern (or even that you’re doing anything at all) a secret from the family-to-be.  That way you can change your mind and let yourself off the hook (see what I did there) to your heart’s content.

Armed with this knowledge, I decided on one big granny square.  Which is the thing they teach every kid who learns to crochet.  And even if you know nothing about crochet, granny squares are probably the pattern you think of as the classic crochet blanket on the back of every grandma’s couch.

For a great pop culture history of the granny square in American TV, check out this article on Slate.

With granny squares, most of the time you make a bunch of squares and then put them together, but it’s also not uncommon to just…keep going…bigger…and…bigger…until you have ONE SQUARE TO RULE THEM ALL!

This appealed to me, since it meant there’d be no pesky joining-up stage after getting to blanket size.  (Full disclosure: I have a traditional granny square project in my WIP basket that I started 7 years ago. I’m still not excited about putting it together.)

I used a lighter weight yarn and smaller hook this time around –  more delicate than anything I’d worked with before.  And despite the staid, geometric-ness of it, I also found it light and ethereal and lovely.

In fact, the only downside of this project was that it got boring.  After all, you’re doing the same stitch, over and over…and over.  And because the rounds get successively bigger, the longer you work on it, the less you have to show for any individual crochet session.

But hey!  That just gave me plenty of time to consider border ideas.  Blanket borders are like fashion accessories – there’s something for everyone and the entire look of a blanket can change dramatically depending on the choice you make. I was excited to try something *fancy* to pair with the super organized look of the square body.  I’ve lost the link to the free pattern in the mists of time, but it’s essentially a riff on a simplified pineapple stitch.

Of all the blankets I’ve made, this one feels the most quintessentially “handmade baby blanket” to me.  And I like its chameleon-like ability to be at home anywhere – fancy enough for a christening, casual and unstuffy enough for tummy time.  Not forced into pink or blue, but still with a pop of personality.  The Audrey Hepburn or Coco Chanel of blankeys.  Just.  Classic.

Next time on Beneath the Blankey: join me as we fly through years of job and life changes before returning to steady hooking in 2019.

Beneath The Blankey Round 1: The Heirloom

In this year of first retirements, I’ve crocheted 4 baby blankets for friends.  It’s been a very welcome place of joy in a very strange 9 months.  I find that I fall in love with each piece over the course of its making, subjecting it to photoshoots which seem to get increasingly elaborate…  This week, I’m sharing each of the 7 baby blankets I’ve ever made, here and on Instagram.  May it be a place of rest and joy for you, too, in this year we call 2020.

#1 THE HEIRLOOM

  • Made: 2013
  • Finished B.B. (before baby): NOPE!! But the baby still looked like a baby when it was done.
  • Relative difficulty & PITA: 1,000,000/10 because I really had no idea what I was doing.  All fault mine – I’d totally recommend the pattern.
  • Pattern Used: Fluffy Clouds Baby Blanket

In 2012, the internet taught me to crochet.  As a kid, I had “learned” to knit and crochet (translation: I hated the learning process and so quit before I ever really learned anything).

As an adult, I started with a craft store kit, the kind of purchase guaranteed to leave you with an object you’ve spent way too much time on and don’t really want (yay!).  In the process, I discovered the public university that is Youtube and its reference library, Google.  I graduated to various simple scarves I didn’t really want either, and then fell into geek crochet land – gleefully making hats from sci-fi, fantasy and gaming.  Since I talked about these hats way too much at work, a friend told me about Boob Beanies when she was pregnant with her second child.  I mean, you know I made this.

I also decided I would MAKE HER A BABY BLANKET!  And promptly google image searched for the most beautiful baby blanket I could find with an “easy” rating.

Friends, do not do this.  It may not be as “easy” as you think.

But you’ve already told your friend you’re making it (and showed her the pattern – again, don’t do this – so you can’t back out now).

Luckily, I didn’t know any of this yet.  The “Fluffy Clouds Baby Blanket” was and is so beautiful and I couldn’t wait to get started.  It’s a great pattern, and I totally recommend it for an heirloom quality piece.

What it’s not, is quick.  Especially for a beginner who’s never made a blanket or large project.  To get those gorgeous, dimensional clouds required fancy shells and rows upon rows to prop them up.  If that means nothing to you, just know that to my beginner brain and fingers every single one of those clouds TOOK FOREVER.  Instant gratification for me, the crocheter, was right out.  Now, you may say that a baby blanket for someone else’s baby isn’t about me.  Well…if something is gonna get done, I can tell you, at least some of it needs to be about me.  If I knew then what I know now, I’m not sure I would have finished it.

So, not surprisingly, there was a lot of proof this was handmade – because there are lots of surviving fuckups in the finished work.  ESPECIALLY as a beginner, the idea that after laboring over this thing, I would then RIP OUT finished work to correct mistakes was beyond ludicrous.  Suffice to say, the finished project was square…ish.

Does any of this matter?  Of course not. The finished piece was so beautiful, and like any good mom, what I brought into the world was perfect in my eyes.  Fluffy clouds!  Lacy border!  Satin ribbon woven through that border, for crying out loud!

In the time it took to start, lose patience, rage quit, re-start, slog through, then finish in a triumphant blaze of glory, the baby had been born…  But you know, creation runs on its own schedule.  For babies, and for their blankeys.

When I started making baby blankets I had no idea that I would feel my own personal connection to creation and possibility.  And when I send one off to a friend, it’s not just the finished piece that goes into the mail.  A tiny version of the hope, and joy, and labor that accompany every birth is there, too.  And every stitch is a tiny spell-worked blessing, because I couldn’t do this if I didn’t care.

But I still don’t think I’ll ever make this one again.

The life-changing magic of teachers

Jerry Colonna and Elizabeth Gilbert changed my life.  I’ve never met them.

Before I decided to experiment with this idea of first retirements, like so many people, it was clear something was happening in my life.  Stress, anxiety and everyday pressures built up, and each time I put them aside, I knew they’d be back – stronger, louder, and more insistent.

Eventually, I could no longer tough it out and had to seek help.  Sometime after I’d started being treated seriously for depression, I was trying to fall asleep on one particularly insomniac night.  Podcasts had become my go-to white noise, especially when I could find calming voices with at least mildly interesting things to say.  Think Bob Ross giving a TED talk.  On this night, I turned to On Being – a podcast at the intersection of inner and outer life.  It’s often very interesting and often (sorry, On Being) easy to sleep to.  The episode that caught my eye was an interview with Jerry Colonna: “Can you really bring your whole self to work?”  And it didn’t put me to sleep – it woke me up.

Because I certainly thought the answer to that particular question was not only “No” but “Hell no.”  This is a long-held belief from my earliest days in an office environment.  The way I explained it was as follows:

When you hit a breaking point (and we all do), there’s no safe option for women in the workplace.  If you cry, you’re fragile and overly sensitive; if you yell, you’re a bitch.  You can’t win.  So I thought – fine, I’ll be a man.  By which I meant, I’ll simply cut off any emotional response to work and be driven completely by logic and rationality and the needs of the business.

As you might expect, this was wildly unsuccessful.  Of course I didn’t succeed in cutting off emotion (i.e. caring deeply about the work I was doing).  Anyone who’s ever worked with me would hardly call me “unemotional.”  In fact, the most consistent piece of feedback I’ve received in two decades in the workforce has been “Don’t take things so seriously” which is supposed to mean “Lighten up, we’re not curing cancer here,” but really translated to me as “Don’t care so much, and definitely don’t feel so much.”  I’d achieved the exact opposite of what I’d tried to do.

On the other hand, for a long time this strategy worked.  Translating my feelings into male-acceptable sarcasm, argumentativeness and superiority may not have won me raving fans, but I survived.  Once I moved to a retail company in the Northeast, the competitive, slightly toxic environment meant I thrived.

Then, as I climbed the ranks into leadership, I started to be coached to be more “authentic.”  Which I hated – on the one hand, you’re telling me not to care so much, and on the other, to make sure I’m showing people how I really feel.  Uh, trap?

I saw it as one more mask I needed to put on – now, in addition to showing people “rational, strong business person” I also needed to show them “authentic, approachable person.”  Because obviously the real, authentic me wasn’t welcome at work – no one’s is.

So, no, I didn’t think you could bring your whole self to work.

As I say, I didn’t fall asleep to On Being that night.  And I began to seek out interviews with Jerry anywhere and everywhere.  Which is how I found his company, Reboot, his book, Reboot: Leadership and the Art of Growing Up and The Reboot Podcast.  Reboot is a leadership coaching company dedicated to the idea that better humans make better leaders and “work can be the way we achieve our fullest selves.”

I can draw a direct line from hearing that first interview to the decision to leave my job and go on this journey.

It was such a breath of fresh air to hear a voice saying “Yes” to integrating our messy, human, emotional selves into the high-pressure environment of success-driven corporate life.  And it’s not about turning work into a therapy session, either – Jerry was a startup VC and now coaches founders and CEOs.  This is not work in the casual or woo-woo lane.

I couldn’t ever remember hearing someone so traditionally successful speak so honestly about pain, shame, anxiety, anger – in short, feelings – and at the same time, the sense of purpose that work can bring.  In other words, taking work pretty fucking seriously.  And not just once, in a stirring speech about struggle and hardships experienced and overcome, but continuously and faithfully putting this dialogue at the absolute center of his professional presence.  I was in love.

To misquote an overused phrase: “When the student is ready, appear Yoda will.”  Discovering Jerry coincided with a time in my life where I was awakening to new understandings and curiosities.  I was also engaged in the work of my own inner exploration, through coaching, therapy, medication, meditation and journaling.  He was the teacher I needed in that moment.  And The Reboot Podcast gave me a resource to bring in new ideas and start to recognize that it was okay to not be okay with a compartmentalized,  politically savvy office life.  Which let me consider what the alternatives might be.

At the root of all this is a desire for wholeness.  The request for “authenticity” felt like just a buzzword to me; a performance to put on for the benefit of others or greater accolades for oneself.  “She’s so authentic.”  Wholeness, by contrast, is messy, strange, uncomfortable – and unending.  It’s certainly not a destination to which you can arrive and then stay forever.

Jerry talks about this with Parker Palmer, one of his most valued teachers.  In a podcast episode titled, “Shadow and Leadership”, Palmer says:

“Wholeness means the whole kielbasa. … What we have to understand is that we will never achieve wholeness if we cannot ultimately say, ‘I am not only my light, my strengths, my gifts, my virtues, my ability.  I am also my shadow: I am my failures, I am my fears, I am those potholes that I keep falling into; I am all of the above.’

This thought reminds me of another of my teachers, Elizabeth Gilbert, and her breakout bestseller Eat, Pray, Love.

I can’t remember now how I heard about the book or why I picked it up.  But it moved me.  There were places that I felt seen – like where Liz talks about crying uncontrollably on the bathroom floor.  There were places I wanted to see myself – connecting to love, taking time to travel and meditate and pray and experience and live.  And then, towards the end of the book, there is a passage so powerful that even now, reading it a decade later, tears immediately start rolling down my face and my whole body feels the weight and truth of it.

Liz, in the middle of some pretty awful personal experiences, decides to take a self-imposed solo and silent retreat.  She writes:

“I remember thinking, ‘This is it, Liz.’  I said to my mind, ‘This is your chance.  Show me everything that is causing you sorrow.  Let me see all of it.  Don’t hold anything back.’  One by one, the thoughts and memories of sadness raised their hands, stood up to identify themselves.  I looked at each thought, at each unit of sorrow, and I acknowledged its existence and felt (without trying to protect myself from it) its horrible pain.  And then I would tell that sorrow, ‘It’s OK.  I love you.  I accept you.  Come into my heart now.  It’s over.’  I would actually feel the sorrow (as if it were a living thing) enter my heart (as if it were an actual room).  Then I would say, ‘Next?’ and the next bit of grief would surface.  I would regard it, experience it, bless it, and invite it into my heart, too.  I did this with every sorrowful thought I’d ever had – reaching back into years of memory – until nothing was left.

Then I said to my mind, ‘Show me your anger now.’   One by one, my life’s every incident of anger rose and made itself known.  Every injustice, every betrayal, every loss, every rage.  I saw them all, one by one, and I acknowledged their existence.  I felt each piece of anger completely, as if it were happening for the first time, and then I would say, ‘Come into my heart now.  You can rest there.  It’s safe now.  It’s over.  I love you.’  This went on for hours, and I swung between these mighty poles of opposite feelings – experiencing the anger thoroughly for one bone-rattling moment, and then experiencing a total coolness, as the anger entered my heart as if through a door, laid itself down, curled up against its brothers and gave up fighting.

Then came the most difficult part.  ‘Show me your shame,’ I asked my mind.  Dear God, the horrors that I saw then.  A pitiful parade of all my failings, my lies, my selfishness, jealousy, arrogance.  I didn’t blink from any of it, though.  ‘Show me your worst,’ I said.  When I tried to invite these units of shame into my heart, they each hesitated at the door, saying, ‘No – you don’t want me in there…don’t you know what I did?” and I would say, ‘I do want you.  Even you.  I do.  Even you are welcome here.  It’s OK.  You are forgiven.  You are part of me.  You can rest now.  It’s over.’”

The grace in these words has stayed with me.  What really punched me in the gut – then and now – is how she invites each feeling into her heart to rest, honoring and blessing them in the process.  The divine understanding she conveys that the love and the rest and the help that we so desperately need come only fully from ourselves.

Wow.  How devastating.  How liberating.  How scary and humbling and beautiful.

Because in the depths of my own sorrows or rages, or disappointments, or depression, or exhaustion, what I really want is for someone to come along, pick me up and carry me through the situation.  To let me rest.  To give me a free pass and wake me up when whatever’s happening is all over.  Whether it be a parent, a friend, a therapist or doctor, a higher power – I’m crying out because I want to sit down and say, “I can’t do it anymore.  Someone help.  Take over.”  But I knew immediately the truth in what Liz had written: yes, someone can take over.  Someone can love you, rescue you, let you rest.  That someone is you.

(By the way, I’m terrified of this exercise.)

Like Gilbert, both Jerry Colonna and Parker Palmer have deep experience with depression, which they speak about openly and often.  I sometimes wonder if the reason they talk about it so often is because, as humans, we are hungry for these stories that are still seen as taboo and rare.  Even today, someone who talks about their relationship with mental health is seen as courageous – which of course they are – instead of just human, striving to be whole.

In the same episode, Palmer tells a story about sitting with a group of successful teachers as they each talked about the failures in their lives, and how they led them to the place they are today.  He asks if any of them have shared these stories with their students.  None had.  “You’ve got [people] sitting in your classes right now who are dying inside thinking about a failure that they think is a dead end rather than an opening to a new path.”

Being honest and responsible about seeking wholeness seems like it could be the next step forward in leadership development originally pioneered by Donald O. Clifton and Marcus Buckingham in the early 2000s.  Their Strengths Psychology approach, based on large-scale Gallup research, suggested that, rather than focusing on our “areas for improvement,” i.e. weaknesses, we’d be happier and more successful developing our strengths.

Logically, what comes next is the understanding that we have to accept both our strengths and weaknesses, and learn to work with it all.  Because the alternative – to compartmentalize, downplay or deny the messy parts of ourselves – means we’ll just end up acting them out on everyone else around us.  Just like I couldn’t cut off the parts of myself I didn’t want to bring to work without having stress, anger or anxiety spill out onto my friends and colleagues.  Jerry often quotes this line from C.G. Jung:

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”

It’s not lost on me that so many of the people engaged in this work towards wholeness have struggled with depression, anxiety and other wounds of the inner landscape.  It’s not lost on me that I recognize the path because I’m on it.  And I’m profoundlly grateful for the teachers who are leaving breadcrumbs on the trail.

Jerry has something to say about these teachers who change our life, even (and especially) the ones we don’t know.  “You [Parker Palmer] have been a personification of the core spiritual notion that we are all connected.  You – unbeknownst to you, because we didn’t know each other at the time – you helped me. It’s a profound expression of the interconnectedness of us.”  And he acknowledges that the road goes on: “Me, doing my work, allows the other to do their work.”

Jerry, Liz, Parker, and so many others – thank you.

Why this video rocks

I love this video.  It popped up late last year and quickly went viral, for obvious reasons.  So funny – a fat cat that hates exercise as much as the rest of us.

There’s lots to enjoy here – the disapproval of the cat, Cinder-Block (yes really), as she meows her discontent and looks straight into your soul.  The ridiculous physical comedy of her single paw pacing on the treadmill like some kind of “I Love Lucy” sketch.  The voice of the trainer, encouraging and hilarious as he tells her she’s a good girl.

It’s that last I was reminded of today.  And thinking about it, Jason (the trainer and encourager-in-chief), is the real hero here.  He takes Cinder seriously, both her effort and her annoyance.  He doesn’t let her off the hook – she stays there in the water, one paw stepping, meowing her complaint.  But he doesn’t try to make her do more, or yell, or tell her she’s not working hard enough.  No, he tells her “that’s good work”.

I’m sure he thought it was funny too – but what he chose to relay to Cinder was empathetic acknowledgment and unironic encouragement.  That regardless of how it might look, he knows her effort is effort, and not-so-pleasant at that.  He stays with her in that moment.

I don’t know that we always treat each other (or ourselves) with this level of dignity in similar circumstances.

What might our world look like if the assumption was that everyone around us is making the honest effort they can in any given moment?  Not the maximum they’re capable of, but still, there they are in the water, keeping things moving even if they don’t particularly feel like it.  What if we responded to ourselves and others from this point of view?  Not judging each other to work harder or better.  Not giving up on each other because our results seem so small.

Everyone I’ve talked to during the pandemic has voiced this struggle.  “Am I doing enough?  Am I making the most of this time?”  And inevitably, we are comparing ourselves positively or negatively to the efforts we perceive from others.

But you should know…

You are seen.  Your struggles are real.  Your efforts are acknowledged.

That’s good work.

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