I occasionally like to do crafty things. I remember when I was younger, around 7 or 8 probably, my mom taught me how to crochet a simple chain while we were visiting my aunt, uncle, and cousin. I immediately loved it and spent the entire car ride home, and several days after that, crocheting one really, really, really long chain.
I’ve learned how to do a few things since then – I’ve made blankets and scarves for some of my friends – and I’m content with the few things I know how to do. I mostly enjoy crocheting because of the rhythm. Wrap the yarn around the hook, pull through, wrap again twice, pull through, pull through. I find when I’m restless that giving my hands something repetitive and soothing to do quiets my mind.
I haven’t crocheted anything in over a year. In fact, I think it’s been close to two years. Lately, in the midst of such turbulent emotions as I described yesterday, I’ve been thinking I should pull out some yarn and a hook again. So today I started a simple scarf.
That’s a pretty small ball of yarn, so it won’t be enough to finish a whole scarf, but that’s not the point. It took me a while to get into the rhythm of crocheting again. I had to start over a few times. The first rows were a little shaky and uneven, but by the third or fourth row, it felt as natural as if the hook was just part of my hand.
I think that’s how living in Portland is going to be, too. Going through so many major life changes in such a short span of time can definitely disrupt your rhythm. It’s been shaky (to say the least) these past two months, but I need to give myself time to adjust, find my new rhythm. If I really think about it, I still want to be here. I’m thankful I’m here with my husband and we’re learning how to do life together. I’m thankful for the new friends we’re making. I’m thankful my family and friends are always going to be there for me when I need them. So I’ll give it time.