Nearly every day I sit and meditate by working on some knitting or crochet for several minutes. I often turn to my favourite kind, seaming blankets for my sisterhood project¹ or weaving ends. The other day I noticed I’d set down the needle, picked up a pencil, and filled an entire page of my notebook with ideas. It was not a dramatic event; the words were nothing special, and nothing arrived fully formed. Nor had I made a conscious effort to write down my thoughts. As I stitched some squares together, a question I’d been circling for a few days, how to help someone begin a new project, quietly loosened somewhere between one seam and the next.

I’m not being vague to protect someone’s privacy, though that is true as well. My notes could just as easily be for a student as a client. For those who are new and getting to know me, I don’t only play with yarn all day; I’ve been teaching private lessons for over 30 years, and for the majority of them I’ve helped solo and small businesses work with technology through PSG Studio. While specific contexts change, the work is surprisingly similar. For a client, it might mean connecting two tools they already have and aren’t using fully instead of adding a shiny third that promises to do everything. For a student, it might mean working through the instructions together and changing whatever isn’t working for them, so they have a successful experience.

The two businesses have a symbiotic relationship, and together they help fill me and keep me working at my best. I’m fascinated by technology, but you really don’t have much to hold in your hands. I’ve been playing with yarn in one form or another since childhood. I’ve made and tinkered for as long as I can remember (and have some embarrassing polaroids as proof). I need to touch something at the end of the day and know that I’ve made it. It’s impossible for me not to try to teach or help. I am fulfilled by helping others find their way into the tools and techniques they need and use. Together, the creating and the helping, whether the tool is a skein of yarn or an app, are who I am at my core.

My attempts at meditation are a large part of why a notebook sits within reach. My mind drifts away from the stitches and drifts back, and somewhere in that coming and going a thought arrives from a place I wasn’t looking. It only seems random; I suspect it was waiting for the room to quiet down. Thoughts can be a lot like toddlers or cats, unpredictable and gone the moment you turn your back, so I write them down before they wander off. I’ve taken to scribbling with a pencil so I don’t have to worry about any inky messes or caps I’ve forgotten to replace.

I call it intentional yarn therapy: the rhythm of knitting and crochet creates space for whatever is on your mind. This is a very personal side of it; it doesn’t need anyone else in the room. It has happened in my groups, in private lessons, and on my own, and while it isn’t formal counseling (I have no training for that), I recognize it when it comes and try to work with it. That afternoon I gave myself time and space to work through an idea without pushing at it. As my fingers worked endless mattress stitch², my brain worked through a challenge someone had brought me, and I found a strategy to explore with them while I made progress on finishing another blanket.

I hope this encourages you to keep a notebook near at hand for those quiet moments, and to create a space to listen to yourself.

1. Many of the women like to work small squares or strips of knit or crochet fabric. I love seaming. This benefits everyone. ↩︎
2. Mattress stitch creates a nearly invisible seam and is worked from the right side of the work. There are other methods; this is currently one of my favourites. ↩︎