pluckyredhead: cheskamouse: higgsboshark: The thing about knitting is it’s much harder to fear…

pluckyredhead:

cheskamouse:

higgsboshark:

The thing about knitting is it’s much harder to fear the existential futility of all your actions while you’re doing it.

Like ok, sure, sometimes it’s hard to believe you’ve made any positive impact on the world. But it’s pretty easy to believe you’ve made a sock. Look at it. There it is. Put it on, now your foot’s warm.

Checkmate, nihilism.

This is a powerful positive message..

I’m literally reading a book right now (Burnout by Emily and Amelia Nagoski) that says this is scientifically sound.

There have been studies done on rats and dogs where they develop learned helplessness in the animals by giving them impossible tasks. Eventually the animals stop trying, even when the task stops being impossible. (I.e. put a rat in a maze with cheese it can’t get to until it develops learned helplessness, then put the cheese somewhere it can get to it and it won’t even try.) But once they show the animals they CAN do something – i.e. physically moving the rat to the cheese – the learned helplessness goes away.

No one can move you to your cheese for you, but the book says DOING something – which they define as “anything that isn’t nothing” can help. Make a food. Work in the garden. Clean a thing. Do a favor for a friend. Call your elected officials.

Knit a sock.

If you feel overwhelmed by existential despair, do something. It doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be anything that isn’t nothing.

“Most of us, I suppose, have a secret country but for most of us it is only an imaginary country….”

“Most of us, I suppose, have a secret country but for most of us it is only an imaginary country. Edmund and Lucy were luckier than other people in that respect. Their secret country was real.”

C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

“And I’d grown up not just in England, but in a land of fantasy. Though I was the kind of child who…”

“And I’d grown up not just in England, but in a land of fantasy. Though I was the kind of child who (like you, perhaps) read anything and everything, my true love was deep make-believe, from fairy stories to all the buried archetypes of folk tale and myth. Then when I went to the University of Oxford to study English literature, two professors named Tolkien and Lewis made sure that our syllabus stopped at the year 1832, so that we were soaked in the earliest fantasies of all: Beowulf, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, Spencer’s The Faerie Queene. As a friend of mine said, ‘They taught us to believe in dragons.’”

Susan Cooper, preface to the The Dark is Rising.

IT’S ST DAVID’S DAY

teashoesandhair:

which means it’s time to eat welshcakes, sing songs about saucepans, stand in a circle and slap your knees, pin leeks to your clothes, try desperately to remember the parts of your heritage that weren’t erased by centuries of anglocentric history, and watch someone be crowned the poet king on a wooden chair while a druid does sick sword tricks over their head

Dydd Gŵyl Dewi hapus, pawb!!!!!

alocalfemme: It’s okay to be a beginner at the things you are interested in. There is no reason to…

alocalfemme:

It’s okay to be a beginner at the things you are interested in. There is no reason to feel intimidated by people more advanced than you are, because they too were in your place at one point. Keep learning and growing and expanding in whatever it is that you love and let nothing and no one stop you. You don’t have to be at the same stage as someone else. You can just be at your stage and that one is okay too.

“Some who have read the book, or at any rate have reviewed it, have found it boring, absurd, or…”

“Some who have read the book, or at any rate have reviewed it, have found it boring, absurd, or contemptible; and I have no cause to complain, since I have similar opinions of their works, or the kinds of writing that they evidently prefer.”

J.R.R. Tolkien, preface to the second edition of The Lord of the Rings.

bruinhilda: As a library worker, there’s something I want to say to you. You do not have to…

bruinhilda:

As a library worker, there’s something I want to say to you.

You do not have to apologize for the books you choose to read.

At all.  To anyone.  You owe nobody any explanations; you need no excuse or “good reason” to be reading the book.

You do not have to be ashamed for wanting to read “bad” books.  You wanna read Twilight?  We got Twilight.  Need a banal, cookie-cutter-plot mystery or thriller?  Those are always fun.  Our regulars check them out by the towering stack.  Ask Betty for recommendations; she’s read them all.  50 Shades of Oh Fucking No?  We’ve got it, we even got it in large print.  Have fun.  Check out the rest of our porn too.  Oh, and the sex manuals are a MUST if you want to “experiment” yourself.  Don’t be afraid to ask; they’re here for a reason.

Want to read a book written by a huge asshole everyone hates and agree was a monster?  Yeah, we have those.  No, we don’t think you’re an asshole for wanting to know what was actually written in there, or judging things for yourself.

You are not too old for Diary of a Wimpy Kid, The Babysitter’s Club, or Captain Underpants.  You are not too young for Sherlock Holmes.  There’s nothing wrong with a boy reading The Princess Academy or Sweet Valley High.  There’s nothing wrong with a girl being into The Hardy Boys or Artemis Fowl instead.

You do not have to pull the shame face and offer me an excuse when you check out your books.  I don’t care if I got so angry at that book I threw it against a wall when I read it: you have the right to read it, and enjoy it if it’s enjoyable for you.  THAT’S WHY THE LIBRARY HAS IT IN THE FIRST PLACE.  If we only stocked pure, unproblematic literature everyone approved of, by authors of unquestionable virtue, we wouldn’t have any books at all.  Or music.  Or movies.  It would be utterly fucking boring.  And it certainly wouldn’t be a library.