Ironically enough, when it comes to finding the words to adequately express how much writing means to me – I find myself speechless. For me, writing is more than my profession and passion, it is an actual extension of myself and my soul. From the moment I wake up until I place my head on my pillow to rest at night, I am thinking of stories, poems, and combinations of words, phrases, and syllables that can be merged into a beautiful story, poem, or snippet. I am so fortunate to have writing not only be my career, but also a hobby that I am incredibly passionate about.
That being said, there are moments when the words don’t come. There are times where putting pen to paper can feel entirely overwhelming. There are sleepless nights where my thoughts are blocked and I am seeking the relief of another hobby to ease my mind – and that is where crochet comes in.
There is something so primal, rhythmic, and Zenlike when it comes to crocheting. When my mind is heavy, I can find myself lost in the moments of delicately weaving, knotting, twisting, and turning threads into lovely pieces of functional art. I adore looking for patterns on YouTube, old magazines, or other handed down pieces. I love the challenge of creating a new piece and find myself oddly comforted by the regimented rules and requirements that crochet demands. In writing, there are no limitations, no boundaries, and no rules – I can literally do, say, or create anything I want. Crochet asks me to be more refined, disciplined, and directed. I find comfort in following the patterns and receiving a tangible piece for my efforts. For hours, I can let my mind be still while my fingers are feverishly working – and it is absolute bliss.
For the moments when I can’t find words, I can always find a hook, some yarn, and the comfort within the art of crochet.
