I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the choices people make in living out their days. It’s probably safe to say that there are as many approaches to life as there are people on the planet. Some of our proclivities are hard-wired into us, but some are truly choice. Do we choose a positive attitude? Do we choose to be courteous and respectful? Do we choose to lift others up?
This is a broad topic, but the specific aspect I’ve been focused on lately is how we choose to approach the always-present opportunity for learning and growth. I’ve noticed, and become somewhat sensitive to, a number of people tending to reject learning opportunities because they are “afraid.” I’ve done it myself – I used to say I was “afraid” of yeast and therefore avoided learning to bake bread. More recently, I thought I was “afraid” to try new knitting techniques (the cure for that was a shove into the deep end of the pool – lucky for me I have friends who are believers in tough love).
What are we really afraid of? Certainly not single-cell organisms or sticks and string. We’re afraid of failing, at worst, or even of just wasting precious time on an unsuccessful venture.
The thing is, what is life if not a string of continuous possibilities? Do we really want to slog through our days, merely doing what must be done, sitting down in our Barcalounger every night to watch a few hours of crappy TV, only to get up and do it again the next day?
One of the things I have come to love about the knitting blog world is the pervasive spirit of trying, and trying again. Knitters start things all the time – and nearly as frequently realize that the yarn isn’t right for the project, the project isn’t right for them, or that there’s just something else more fun to try. So they frog and move on. Nothing ventured, nothing gained turns into something ventured, nothing lost.
It’s not just about knitting, though. The idea of giving things a try translates to all sorts of pursuits. Cooking, for example. I find myself in discussion frequently with people who are what I would call “tentative cooks.” “Oh, that sounds good, but I wouldn’t know how to make it.” The idea of expanding horizons gets shut down immediately with the competing reaction of “I’m afraid.”
Well, phooey. Information is power, so how about letting that power conquer fear by arming ourselves?
To illustrate, I became interested in cooking in my early 20s. Well, really, I became interested in eating food that didn’t come in a box in the freezer section of the grocery store, or from a can. So I got myself a copy of the Joy of Cooking and read it, nearly cover to cover. I took breaks to try out recipes that sounded good. I mastered a few things and in the process learned that there wasn’t much to fear in trying. If you goof, well, that’s why God made garbage disposals. I still have that book, its stains and creases a testament to my efforts. I move on, obtaining more books, reading and reading some more about various cuisines, techniques, and ingredients, trying out all kinds of crazy recipes along the way. I screwed stuff up, I had some successes, I fed my friends, and nothing bad happened to me. So I kept at it.
Today, after all that reading, trial, error, and practice, I have a nice sturdy repertoire of cooking knowledge – and a lot of it is just instinct. I can tell you if the potatoes are done frying by their aroma. I know that a certain recipe is going to suck because the ingredients are lacking, or used in the wrong proportion. I know when the dough is sufficiently kneaded. I can put salad dressings or marinades together by the seat of my pants. Beyond all else, I know that when I just don’t feel like it, I can pull a frozen pizza out of the freezer and live to cook another day.
Knitting has been pretty much the same for me. I was lucky to have that latent muscle memory dating to the Nixon era, when my mom taught me to do a long-tail cast on, and then to knit and purl. When that little spark ignited a couple of years ago, I did what came naturally: I started to read everything I could possibly find about knitting. Blogs, web sites, books, magazines. It didn’t hurt that my friends pushed me along, simply insisting that I get out of my garter-stitch comfort zone and man up, already. Even though I said on occasion that I was “afraid,” and in fact botched some things quite impressively, nothing bad happened to me. I wound up the yarn again and moved on.
The bottom line? Life is much more interesting when we decide not to let “I’m afraid” stop us. I don’t ever want to stop learning. As 2010 approaches, I’d like to set some learning goals – or maybe even just one.
What about you? How do you feel about learning, and what would you like to learn next?
No, really! There’s something about putting on a fun pair of shoes that gives me a real lift. 
