Picking Up the Pieces

As a novice knitter, I fell in love with a Shetland shawl pattern with lighthouses on it. The shawl was knitted a single piece in the round using a long circular needle. Starting with just five stitches, each row increased by one stitch at each end separated by a mysterious “steek” (a vertical band of waste stitches) until there were hundreds of stitches and the top of the pattern reached. Then came the heart-stopping moment of cutting into the steek with scissors to open up the shawl into a triangle – over a year’s work reduced to a vulnerable, raw edge. Then time to pick up stitches above the raw edge to knit on a border, and then sew the border over the raw edges to finish the shawl. I loved the shawl, but I vowed never to tackle a steeked shawl again.

But I fell in love with another Shetland shawl pattern… with another steek. I was confident, but as I cut the steek, something was amiss, stitches disintegrated, and it rapidly started to unravel. I still don’t know what went wrong this time. Lots of tears and self-criticism followed; I even blamed the poor sheep responsible for the wool. Just about resisting the urge to bin the whole project, I carefully put it aside instead and gave it a little time.

When I cautiously returned to the shawl, the priority was to stop the situation from getting any worse. I mitigated the damage as best as possible and tried to accept that this was going to be a slow process. Anchoring the unravelling by sewing an extra thread along the precarious edge allowed me to painstakingly pick up enough stitches to form a firm enough barrier to safely hold the once-fragile seam. The shawl did eventually get finished and I discovered I still loved it, but I vowed I would never tackle a steeked shawl again.

In knitting, there’s officially a “right side” and a “wrong side.” The “right side” faces outward for the world to see, while the (somewhat judgementally termed) “wrong side” is within, messy in comparison and usually hidden. Yet, these sides are interwoven. The essential messy side carefully carries the threads that create the patterns, secures loose ends, and is where seams give structure and strength to the work. It is due care and attention to the messy side that stops everything completely falling apart.

Several shawls later, I’ve knitted through both joyful times and through times in life when picking up the pieces of anything and finding a way forward felt unfathomable. This is a gentle, practical reminder that progress is picking up one stitch at a time, and that raw edges, holes and dropped stitches can be mended with tender, loving care. It teaches that picking up the pieces, whether strands of yarn or fragments of life, is a process that demands patience, resilience, and a willingness to embrace both the beautiful and the messy sides.