Some bonus mid-week sewing musings for you today!.

I guess you might describe this post as falling within the generic category of “What does sewing mean to you in your life?”

Weary souls in quiet corners

A little while ago, I posted on instagram about how I’m often exhausted by human contact and rely on the solitude of sewing to soothe my weary soul.

My sewing corner is my perfect oasis of solitude. Except that I’m not really alone but, rather, am surrounded by colours and textiles and objects that I find beautiful and brimming with potential.

In response to that post, a couple of helpful fellow sewists asked whether I’d read the book ‘Quiet‘ by Susan Cain (I’m not going to tag them because a few of them have private accounts and, given the topic of their intervention, they may not want to attract attention. If you’re interested, you can check out the original post on instagram, it’s linked above).

Well, I’ve just finished reading ‘Quiet’ and it has brought a new degree of clarity about just how important sewing is to me. And that book, combined with the fact that I’ve just enjoyed three days of wonderful solitude while my husband and son visit the in-laws, has left me in a reflective mood.

So today’s post is about just what sewing means to me.

And it’s all thanks to the internet…

Seriously!

Sewing isn’t a life-long passion for me. As a child, my Nana was a seamstress, my Mum sewed constantly, but I thought it was absurdly stupid and steadfastly refused to have anything to do with it.

Sewing was what old-fashioned women did.

Me, I was going to be the first female Prime Minister of Australia (darned you for beating me, Julia Gillard) or the Secretary-General of the United Nations (no-one bothered to inform my 9 year-old self that you generally had to have a bit of an asshole-streak somwhere in you to attain those kind of high-level positions).

With such lofty ambitions, what the hell did I want with sewing?

I only discovered sewing about 5 years ago when I stumbled on a lifestyle article about the home sewing resurgence, which led me down a blog rabbit hole so intense that I felt compelled to buy a sewing machine the very next day.

I often reflect upon how different my life (and state of mental health) might be if I hadn’t stumbled on that piece – it was about Me Made May so thank-you So Zo!

Just leave me alone!!!!

Often it’s practical things that give me those little “thank goodness I sew moments”.

Like when you’re stuck doing some horrible team-building get-to-know-each-other activity and an improbably cheerful ‘facilitator’ demands that you “tell us something not many people know about you”.

And you’re forced to swallow the urge to say “if not many people know about it that’s probably because I prefer to keep it that way, you dick” and instead mumble some lacklustre response while trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

Well, now, I have sewing for those moments.

Sewing enjoys the rare combination of being not only something others actually seem genuinely fascinated by (in that what-planet-are-you-from-my-great-aunt-betty-makes-quilts-but-I-didn’t-think-anyone-still-sews kind of way) and, in addition, I don’t actually dislike talking about it.

Even with strangers. Or groups of people.

But whilst the practial relief of having something to say is reward in itself, there’s more to it than that.

This had been an aspect of myself that, in all honesty, had always puzzled me. I am genuinely terrified by the prospect of going to a party or giving a work presentation. But then sometimes it’s as though there’s a fire in me that comes out of nowhere and burns all of that away.

I’ll jump up and make a scene in a heartbeat if I see something I perceive as unfair.

Or if I have the chance to tell a goup of new people how brilliant sewing is.

Reading ‘Quiet’ made me realise that this is a pretty common experience for introverts. That, in the service of love or a true passion, it is common that an avowed introvert is capable of becoming the most vocal person in the room without batting an eyelid.

I’d thought that, as an introvert, I loved to sew because it gives me time to be alone.

Which it does.

But I see more clearly now that it also gives me much more.

A creative passion. Something I care about so deeply that my usual fears dissipate and I don’t think twice before holding forth to a roomful of people about it.

The power of hobbies

‘Quiet’ suggests that “intense engagement in and commitment to an activity is a proven route to happiness and well-being”.

Indeed, this is what I think about most often when I reflect on how different my life would be if I hadn’t discovered sewing.

I don’t think about how horribly polyester-filled my wardrobe would be. I don’t think about how Iwould have no clue whatsoever about what my personal style is. I don’t think about how I would have zero understanding of the unique quirks of my body. I don’t even think about how I would have so much more space in my apartment without fabric stashed in every free corner of it.

No.

I think about how empty I would feel if I didn’t have a hobby that made me feel fulfilled, creative, alive.

Excited.

I was reading an article recently about how, in the side-hustle economy, there is a huge amount of pressure to try to monetise our passions. Find a way to get something economically productive out of every moment of our time.

Screw that.

Sewing as a hobby brings me so much more than a bit of extra cash. I fear that we sometimes forget just how tremendously valuable it is to have something about which you can be quiet and steadfastly passionate.

Hobbies for the sake of hobbies are a wonderful thing!

Social media is for introverts?

And while I’m talking about things that have had a transformative impact, I also want to talk about not just what sewing has meant to me but what a difference participating in the online sewing community has meant to me.

2 years ago, I had never used instagram.

I had never commented on a blog.

If you told me I would have my own, I would have laughed.

I started this blog because I wanted to spend more time doing something that I have been passionate about since childhood: writing.

Sewing was a convenient bedfellow for that.

But really, I just wanted to be able to put words out into the world.

And, you know, starting a sewing blog seemed more mangeable for a full-time working Mama than writing a novel!

But I would never have imagined that the process of writing this blog would actually make me even more inspired by sewing itself and the creative urges it inspires in me.

It’s as though I didn’t understand what a big impact sewing had made in my life until I started to write about it.

In the workplace whenever I hear someone use the word ‘dovetail’ I have to swallow a little micro-vomit. But I’m going to use that word here in deliberate defiance of the corporate business shits who have made it their own. Because writing about sewing on this blog has genuinely allowed both those passions to flourish and feed off each other, making me calmer, happier and more like myself.

Insta Intoverts Unite

Even instagram has turned out to be a boon to my introverted self.

I get that it perhaps seems counter-intuitive.

Introverts can be overwhelmed by stimulation. And the fast-paced, constantly moving, self-selling world of social media would seem to pose certain, ummm, challenges.

But I find that being on social media enables me to cultivate social interactions around something I am genuinely passionate about.

Let me discuss fabric over weather small talk anyday, thank-you.

Instagram allows me to set parameters around what level of social interaction is comfortable to me. It’s low stakes. Be social when I’m feeling up to it. Switch off when I don’t.

A little less than 2 years ago, when @isewthereforeiam took her first baby steps, I thought that I already loved sewing. But since I became active on social media, my passion for this hobby has just skyrocketed. And since it is passion for things we care that is at the centre of meaningful existence, anything which helps us to cultivate and sustain and grow passion is making an important contribution.

True, instagram does it because it wants to make money, not sustain my life force.

But haha, jokes on you Instagram. In your endless consumerist drive to treat me as a material commodity, you actually ended up creating something which I find genuinely meaningful!

Suck that!!

So, why is sewing for introverts?

OK, ok, I’m getting to the central premise here.

I have a totally unscientific theory based on nothing more than my gut instinct that our sewing community is perhaps filled with more introverts than is average.

We often talk about how amazing it is that, for many of us, the online sewing community is a genuinely supportive and kind place.

But let’s think about it.

There are characteristics we sewists possess that one might posit could lead to a certain predisposition towards introversion.

The sewing world, including the online one, tends to be made up of people who are committed to an activity which involves solving problems, pursuing creatively quietly and cultivating competence through the gradual acquisition of skills.

We have no problems imagining things which are yet to exist – perhaps a sign of a rich inner life.

I believe our online community is kinder than most because we tend to be considerate, sensitive people who value listening to the views of others.

Plus, we are perfectly at ease spending time alone and hearing nothing but the sound of our sewing machines for hours on end.

So, what do you reckon?

Am I onto something here?

Do you think there are more introverts in the sewing community than is typical?

Or am I totally projecting?