“I’m crocheting now. The problem can wait.”
Slow stitching for a racing mind, and one breathing trick that has saved me on a lot of hard days.
When you’re anxious, your mind runs. It doesn’t jog. It sprints.
What could happen. What will happen. What should have happened already. It’s a whole highlight reel of things that haven’t occurred yet, narrated in a very confident voice by the part of your brain that has no idea what it’s talking about.
Most of that running happens in two places: the past and the future. We replay what went wrong or we rehearse what might. None of it is happening right now, in the chair you’re sitting in, while you’re reading this post. Right now is usually where things are okay.
In the slow moments of now, our monkey mind likes to jump around. But that is truly the time when we need our monkey mind to rest.
That’s where crochet comes in. It’s one of the few things I’ve found that pulls me back there without a fight. And I think most of you have felt it, the calming effect of crochet, when a stitch is one repeat and you’re locked in.
The ice storm
Last winter, a huge ice storm was headed our way. I did everything. Stocked up on food. Pulled out the warm clothes. Flashlights, blankets, the living room set up for a family sleepover on pallets, just in case.
The house was ready. My mind was not.
The checklists would not stop. Did I get everything? What did I forget? Check again. Maybe I didn’t think of everything. What could happen? The trees? Can they carry the weight? The roof? The worrying was more exhausting than the doing, so I ran errand after errand.
Then the stores closed, and every errand was done, and my brain simply moved on to the next job. The weather. The radar. The predictions. Refresh, refresh, refresh.
I had to stop. I was exhausted. So I picked up my hook and made mittens for my daughter. Yellow and pink, sized for her tiny hands.
It was a way of telling my body, I’m helping. I’m doing this now; all else is out of my control. This will keep her warm. And while I counted stitches, there was no room for the radar.
The storm brought about two inches of snow. It melted in a couple of days.
Cue the mittens, which she loves, by the way.
That’s life, though. It comes in raging waves or calm water, and we don’t get to pick. We can’t prepare for all of it. But we can choose to handle it slowly and with intention, because frantically running errands only helps so much.
A gentle note
Crochet helps me, but it isn’t a replacement for real support. If your anxiety feels like too much, or it’s affecting your everyday life (eating, sleeping, working, etc.), please talk to a doctor, a counselor, or someone you trust. Stitching can sit beside that kind of care. It doesn’t have to replace it. People care. You matter; take the time you need. Mental health is just as important as physical health.
Why crochet for anxiety works, even when your mind won’t quit
I’m not a therapist, so I’ll tell you what I’ve noticed rather than what science says. Crochet gives your brain a small, simple job. Insert hook, yarn over, pull through. It repeats. It’s busy enough to hold your attention, but easy enough that you don’t have to think hard.
That’s the sweet spot. Your hands are occupied, your eyes have somewhere to land, and the anxious loop loses a little of its grip. You can’t fully rehearse a disaster and also count your stitches. Something has to give, and it’s usually the disaster.
There’s also the proof in your lap. Every row you finish is something you actually did. It’s real, and it’s right here. When your mind is busy with things that haven’t happened, a growing piece of fabric is a nice reminder of what has.
The line I tell myself
When my thoughts start spinning, I try to say it out loud, even if it feels silly: “I’m crocheting now. The problem can wait.”
It isn’t denial. The problem is still there, and I’ll get back to it. But I’m telling my brain it’s not on shift right now. The radar will still be there in an hour. The to-do list will not collapse because I spent 20 minutes on a single row.
My mind will benefit from those 20 minutes. I will come back to the problem a little calmer, and with the reminder that I am capable of so much. I mean, not everyone can make something from just yarn and a hook. That took patience, that took knowledge, that took determination.
Most days I have to say it a few times. I will catch my mind wandering back to the problem. That’s fine. Say it again, pick up the next stitch. The waves of life keep coming, and so does the next stitch. The more days you practice, the less frequently you will have to remind yourself.
If you want a project to practice on, my free ruffle scrunchie pattern is a great and quick make for a 20-minute slowdown. The stitch variation helps keep your mind on the task at hand, not the anxieties of life.
Box Breathing While You Stitch
Breathing is one of the most important things our bodies do and one of the least thought-about things. It keeps us alive, but we also don’t really think about it. More important than drink or food.
There is a reason that meditation and yoga focus so heavily on it; the breath can be healing. Realizing the power of your breath to calm the mind is a skill. It is hard, and it takes time. I was blessed enough to get lessons in mindfulness, meditation, and yoga while in college. It completely changed my college experience.
Fast forward to postpartum, and meditation wasn’t working. Those hormones are no joke, and intrusive thoughts were my reality. I couldn’t sit still. But when I combined crochet and breathing, I found the perfect mixture for me. Busy hands and a calm mind.
How I do it
When I started doing this, I crocheted simple stitches. Maybe I did my breaths for one row. Then in the next row my mind wandered again. Think “I’m breathing,” and just get back to it.
With mindfulness and meditation, do not punish yourself for getting off track. All minds do this, even monks. This takes dedication, and it’s a skill. It isn’t easy, no matter how simple breathing is.
This is called box breathing, and I love to use it while I crochet. You’ll find the exercise in my half double crochet beginner post too. Here’s the rhythm:
- Breathe in for 2 stitches
- Hold for 2 stitches
- Breathe out for 2 stitches
- Hold again for 2 stitches, then start over
I usually work several rows like this, often in half double crochet. A tricky stitch pattern can make it hard to keep the rhythm. If you want a project that fits perfectly into this, try my easy hdc hand towel pattern.
When you’re too anxious to count
Some days I can’t follow a chart to save my life. Anxiety eats focus, and that’s okay. On those days I don’t try anything new.
Here’s what helps me:
- Pick a stitch you already know by heart
- Set the scene with the intention of calming down (light a candle, turn on soft music)
- Choose a flat, forgiving project, like a square, a dishcloth, or a plain towel
- Skip the color changes and anything with a complicated count
- Use soft yarn that feels nice in your hands
- Give yourself permission to rip it out, or not finish it at all
This isn’t the day to make the hard thing. This is the day to make the easy thing slowly. My 5 Mindful Crochet Stitches for Stress Relief post has more stitches that work well for this.
A five-minute practice for tonight
When your mind is loud, try this:
- Grab something simple you’re already working on
- Set the scene (light a candle, turn on soft music, get a peppermint, etc.)
- Set a timer for five minutes
- Notice your senses. Feel the yarn in your hand, its weight and texture
- Stitch slowly, and when a worry shows up, say “I’m crocheting now, the problem can wait”
- When the timer goes off, check in. You don’t have to feel perfect, just a tiny bit calmer
Sometimes it’s five minutes, and sometimes it keeps going for an hour. Either is fine. You still took five minutes of the day to focus on calming your mind; that is a win.
And practice makes progress, so keep coming back to it, and you’ll see growth.
Calm waters soon enough
I can’t tell you what’s coming. I couldn’t tell you about that ice storm either, and I had flashlights ready for a disaster that turned out to be two inches of slush.
What I can tell you is that you get to choose how you meet it. You can spiral, or you can pick up the yarn and take the next stitch.
Calm waters soon enough. Until then, stitch slow. 💛
If you’d like more, my Crochet for Mental Health and My Journey posts go deeper into why I started.