Years ago, when I was going to group therapy on a weekly basis I told the group that I’d been knitting socks for everyone in my family, a big task, and I wanted to be done by Christmas. I was knitting on the bus, anywhere I could find time. It was methodical and a bit mesmerizing. I know I looked pretty kooky too. I liked to think about the power of each stitch, that these little actions repeated would create something new.
At that time in my life I was rebuilding almost everything. I was recovering from my divorce, had broken up with a boyfriend and being alone seemed quite likely. My professional life had fallen apart as I realized that being a classroom teacher was not the balm to all my problems but actually a huge amount of work and quite beyond my capacity at that point. Also during this time a dear friend had died and left a huge hole in my life. It had been a hard few years. I had been in a very dark and suicidal place for a while and was slowly starting to embrace life. Like many things, knitting felt like I was keeping despair at bay, making something warm in the face of nihilism. The little tasks of eating each day, buying groceries for myself and taking the time to feed myself were momentous daily actions. Daily actions, slowly knitting my life into a more cohesive whole.
This experience taught me that small acts, repeated consistently can shape our lives, weaving them into a fabric that is strong and resilient. We choose these actions, we can think deeply about their meaning but most importantly, we have to DO them. It is important that it is something we do - not just contemplate - on a consistent basis. Actions can become like rituals in our lives, rituals that tell the story of the kind of humans we want to be, of how we can live more fully and more intensely.
One of the powerful things about dark times in life is that they create the story of our resilience, a reference point for how difficult life can be and a reminder of how we can work through problems and make change. Also they offer a stark contrast to the joy and satisfaction that is also part of living. I often think of these dark times and feel such a wave of gratitude for the people who stood by me, for kindness that buoyed me up and also a sense of pride in my own bravery to keep going when nothing had meaning.
Given this darkness, it is with amazement that I look around at my partner, my village of moms, the wild children running through our house and the many jars of delicious food in my fridge each week. I feel such gratitude for this abundance and marvel at the consistency of the support we have created for each other. Life is good. And when life is hard, I have tools for recovery and stories of resilience to remind me of what to do. Also, I have a deep bond with these families who care for each other on a very basic and crucial way. Week in and week out. We have each other’s backs, and each other’s stomachs.
If you or anyone you know is struggling with depression, anxiety or suicide - please reach out for help, always: