Whether it’s hand knitting, machine knitting, journaling, crochet, weaving, painting, quilting, or even playing silly games on our phones — we all have that one thing that helps us breathe again.
For me, it started back in the mid-90s (not the 1890s, though some days it feels that way). Life was a whirlwind: my mother was dying, I was going to school full-time, working part-time, and raising two teenagers. One afternoon, driving home from college, I thought, “I’ll just buy a pack of cigarettes.” I had never smoked before, but I bought that pack — and smoked every single one on the 53-minute drive home. When I got there, I thought, “Well, that was dumb.” I knew I’d get hooked, so instead, I switched to Twizzlers.
About a year later, I picked up knitting — and that changed everything.
It was portable, easy to carry, and gave me something to do anywhere, anytime. I even kept a spare project in the car (yes, I’ve knitted socks at red lights — don’t judge).
Then life threw me more curveballs. Four years later, my father passed, and just months after, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. After a 15-hour surgery and recovery, my identical twin sister became ill with the same diagnosis. I helped her through hospice and took in her three children. By November, she was gone, and my husband and I were raising three more — ages 7, 9, and 14.
It was a year I’ll never forget. Through it all, I knitted feverishly. It was my therapy, my sanity. Each stitch gave me something solid and tangible in a world that suddenly felt fragile. Even my unfinished projects made me happy. I loved the feel of the yarn, the colors, the fibers — all of it.
Fast forward to 2019, when the world shut down for COVID. Suddenly, everyone was looking for a way to connect and create. Knitting, crocheting, and all kinds of handmade crafts exploded online. At the store, I started offering free Zoom knitting classes — and they filled up instantly. People didn’t just want to learn; they needed something. A distraction, a sense of calm, a bit of joy.
For me, crafting has always been my Zen, my yoga, my escape. When my hands are busy, my heart is steady. Ironically, I focus better during church or meetings when I’m knitting. My husband calls me his “triathlete wife” — because I knit while on the stationary bike and listen to audiobooks. (It makes exercise almost tolerable!) And yes, I can walk and knit, talk and knit, watch TV and knit. Honestly, he knows if I’m cranky, it’s probably because I haven’t knitted that day — and he’s usually right.
Knitting has replaced all my old stress relievers. No more cigarettes, no more Twizzlers — just yarn and peace.
A friend told me about a man who was going through a rough time. He saw The Woobles crochet kits on social media, bought one, and started crocheting. It gave him something to focus on — something he could control. Now he’s planning to crochet a blanket but told my friend, “Don’t tell anyone I’m crocheting.” (We won’t. We’re quietly cheering him on.)
Knitting isn’t new. It likely originated in Islamic Africa around the 10th century, with early examples from Egypt — intricate cotton stockings from the 11th to 15th centuries. This isn’t a new art, but it does ebb and flow through history — and right now, it’s definitely flowing again.
There’s nothing better than starting the morning early, a cup of coffee in hand, the TV murmuring softly, and yarn sliding through my fingers before the day begins. That’s my peace.
But peace isn’t the only reason we craft. The more I thought about it, the more I realized — there are so many other reasons why we pick up our hooks, needles, brushes, and pens.
We Craft to Express Ourselves
Every project tells a little story about who we are. The colors we choose, the textures we love — they’re all tiny reflections of us. Some people write, some paint — we knit, crochet, sew, or glue. Even without words, our work says, “This is me.”
We Craft to Connect
Crafting ties people together — quite literally. From knitting circles to modern “sit and stitch” gatherings, we share laughter, patterns, and sometimes even tears over a tangle of yarn. Even online, we find community. It’s comforting to know someone else understands the joy of finishing a row without dropping a stitch.
We Craft to Give
We are givers by nature. A handmade blanket for a baby, a shawl for a friend in need — every stitch is a quiet act of love. You can’t buy that kind of care from a store shelf.
We Craft to Bring Beauty into the World
Sometimes we just need more beauty — more color, softness, texture, sparkle. Crafting lets us make it ourselves. It’s our way of adding something lovely and meaningful to a world that often feels too ordinary.
We Craft to Learn and Grow
Every new pattern, stitch, or medium teaches us something. We get to ask, “What if I try it this way?” It’s problem-solving, creativity, and curiosity all rolled into one.
We Craft to Slow Down
Life moves fast, but crafting makes us pause. It asks us to be patient, to move at the pace of our hands. There’s grace in that slowness — a reminder that not everything has to be rushed.
We Craft to Remember and to Leave Something Behind
So many of us learned from someone — a mother, grandmother, teacher, or friend. Each project connects us to them. When we pass that knowledge on, we keep their spirit alive. Our handmade pieces become part of our legacy, threads of memory and love.
We Craft to Find Control and Purpose
When life feels chaotic, creating something from nothing gives us a small sense of order. We decide the colors, the pattern, the process. That simple act of control is comforting.
And Finally, We Craft for Joy
Pure, simple joy. The feel of the yarn, the rhythm of the stitches, the satisfaction of finishing something beautiful. Because when we create, we’re not just making things — we’re making ourselves whole again.
So yes — we craft for calm. But we also craft for connection, beauty, curiosity, and joy.
We craft because, deep down, we were made to make.
