I don’t mind admitting how heartily weary I am of hearing that creativity always has to be about “disruption”.
Kate Davies, Wheesht
Despite my long wish to be more minimal in life, my desk is frankly a mess: a laptop and its dock, phone and charging pad, earbuds, webcam and tripod, cables and more cables, books, books, books, a folded blanket for the cat. There’s a pen holder my son made from toilet roll tubes when he was little; I have had it on my desk for over 30 years, in seven homes and two continents. There is no object more precious.
You would also see a wooden box with a little brass clasp. Let me show you what’s inside … my old socks, with holes. And there’s some yarn and large needles and a couple of other tools. This is my darning box, stuffed with old things needing mending. At least once a day, when I start to struggle with writing about technology and innovation, or I tire of advising on the latest in analytics, or weary of invoicing and paperwork, I make a pot of Earl Grey, open the box and do some mending. This is often the most peaceful, most creative and indeed the most innovative moment of my day: every old problem becomes a new problem.
Fixing the old and worn requires some basic skill but it can also be extraordinarily challenging, absorbing and satisfying. My great aunt in her 90s still loved darning and cherished the neatest work. Tom van Deijnen today has made visible mending a compelling fashion movement.
It’s not all needlework! I have friends in tech fixing-up an old Comanche farm truck to get it working again, others restoring vintage Porsches to perfection, or learning advanced woodworking skills so they can authentically remodel their California Craftsman bungalow.
And yet in our tech work we seem restless to make more and more, while breaking more and more. Is it too late to change? Is it too late for me to change? I can only try. Some days we just need to stop our restless innovation and turn our attention to mending, in quiet appreciation of what works.
One of my favourite books about creativity is Wheesht, by Kate Davies, a Scottish knitwear designer. I’ll have more to say about her striking designs on another day, because they are technically, algorithmically elegant. Following a serious stroke aged only 36 Kate had to find new create and engage with the world. Her book distills what she has learned in body and mind about creativity through the most challenging and uncertain seasons of life.
This book resonates with words we techies rarely use: tenderness, humility, ambivalence. Her advice astonishes, unlike the mundane clichés of influencers: repeat yourself, be inauthentic and of course … wheesht, that lovely Scots word meaning to keep quiet. In Lorimer’s translation of the New Testament in Scots, Jesus calms the storm on the Sea of Galilee, saying, Wheesht! Even today, if we want a child to sit quietly without interrupting, we would say, Keep your wheesht. For Davies, it opens up a world of attention, openness and receptivity.
Kate Davies’ advice astonishes. Repeat yourself. Be inauthentic. Wheesht!
This delightful book is full of wonder and wonderful insights. So wheesht! Take some time for reading … and mending.
Hi Donald, your blogs are a delight to read. This one particularly reminded me of the essays that my kids had to write for their college admissions. Deeply personal and yet very relatable and engaging. Thanks.