No Idle Hands Here

by Sophie




CRAFTS




I'm sure you've heard a variation of this quote:

For Satan finds some mischief still / For idle hands to do.

It's from Isaac Watts, the the "Father of English Hymnody," who wrote a bunch of hymns three hundred years ago and as far as I can tell was a fairly stuffy and no-fun guy.

I figure what he meant was "Hey, you there resting from a morning of washing stone floors on your knees, grab a feather duster and get busy." And who needs that?

But I do have one thing in common with the guy - I too am leery of idle hands. And idleness in general. I'm a fidgeter, an undisciplined thinker and imaginer, and I find that keeping my hands busy is a great way to calm my disordered thoughts and make sense of my environment.

I would have been great back in the day where every spare moment was filled, out of necessity, by chores, even when visiting friends. Folks came over and you'd shell peas together, or work on a quilt, or even put up a barn. Lots of chatting and gossiping took place, but you were also creating something of lasting value (well, except in the case of the peas, I suppose; in that case you were just creating dinner).

I was taught just about every kind of needlework as a child, and I loved it. Having your needlepoint or knitting in hand allowed you to sit quietly among the adults, privy to all kinds of conversations. When my kids were little, I relaxed at the end of the day with my sewing; it was a way to let my pent-up thoughts unspool at leisure. Even now, when my writing has edged out all of my leisure activities, I love to pick up a scrap of handwork now and then when I'm stressed. And it doesn't even have to be a thing of beauty; I remember an afternoon with my friend Trish when we made perler-bead suncatchers with our daughters - it was immensely satisfying to me to line up the tiny plastic beads in the shape of stars and hearts while we discussed the challenges of parenting and volunteering.

A week ago, my daughter announced that she wanted to knit squares that would be assembled into blankets for the needy (learn more about the project here) and she and I spent a wonderful evening together with the knitting basket that we'd both abandoned years ago. We watched Love Actually, which we do at the start of every holiday season, and we talked, and we knitted. Our squares weren't perfect - they came out a little lopsided, and my carpal tunnel flared up, and the puppy got into the basket and tangled up the yarn, and we scotched our original plans to do a dozen squares each.

But if indeed Satan finds inroads when hands are still, he didn't stand a chance that night - our fingers flew, our needles flashed, and the evening passed in the sort of happy companionship that's all too rare these days. I need to remember that the next time I'm stressing over a deadline or a dusty house or an unbalanced checkbook: sometimes the act of creating, no matter how humble, can restore us to the balanced place where we are at our best.