The Point of Pointless

In the frantic haze leading up to the vow renewal, I was dealing with near-constant sheer panic and decided that the only thing to do was stress cast-on a new shawl.

And no, I'm not talking about the one from this post.

I mean I went stash diving, found a completely different pattern, and had at it.

I really wanted to have it done by the end of the year, just as a last hurrah.

So I did it.

Finished it yesterday, in fact.

And as I was blocking it out, I stood back and felt... confused.

And vaguely disappointed.

I didn't understand this shawl.

Not how it came together. That was easy.

But what was the point of this shawl?

I didn't have an event to wear it to.

I didn't have an outfit in mind for it.

It wasn't a pattern that I had been dying to try or yarn that I was itching to play with.

Sure, I had an arbitrary deadline, but it wasn't something I was super committed to.

It was, for me, a pointless exercise compared to my usual methods of creation.

I just needed something to make, so I made.

Sitting down to write this all out, it occurs to me that maybe pointlessness was the point.

For once, it was the act of creation, not the finished object, that I needed.

So what am I going to do with it now? Well, I happily let it go into the arms of my spouse, who fell in love with it as I was knitting it. They didn't know I was giving it to them and the smile they had when I handed it over made my heart melt.

And you know what? That was a pretty good way to end the year.
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