By Randi Russell

If you’ve ever thought of knitting as something reserved for grandmas in rocking chairs or folks preparing for the next big “scarf season,” it’s time to unravel that stereotype. Knitting is not just a wholesome hobby - it’s also surprisingly good for your mental health. So grab your needles (or someone else’s if you’re new here), and let’s stitch together the delightful, fuzzy truth about why knitting is basically yoga in yarn form.

1. It’s Basically Meditation With Bonus Sweaters
Let’s face it - sitting still and meditating can feel like trying to herd cats on a caffeine binge. Enter knitting: the repetitive, rhythmic motions of knit-purl-knit-purl are a sneaky form of mindfulness. Your brain gets into a flow state, like a spa day for your neurons. Except you leave with something wearable instead of just inner peace (although you get that too).

2. Stress? What Stress?
Knitting is like a soft, yarn-based stress ball. The act of creating something, stitch by stitch, is calming and grounding. That rising wave of “What am I doing with my life?” gets gently replaced with “Look, I made a hat!” It’s hard to panic when your hands are busy making something squishy.

3. Anxiety Can’t Hold a Needle
When your brain is doing the mental equivalent of 32 browser tabs open (and one of them is playing music but you can’t find which), knitting swoops in like a woolen superhero. Focusing on a pattern keeps your thoughts from spinning out. You’re too busy counting stitches and trying to remember where you left your cable needle to spiral into existential dread.

4. Productivity, But Make It Cozy
There’s something magical about turning a ball of yarn into a tangible thing. Unlike cleaning the house (which tragically never stays done), a finished scarf stays finished. That sense of achievement gives your self-esteem a warm little boost - much like the socks you just made.

5. Community, Not Competition
Knitting circles are like book clubs, but everyone’s hands are busy and no one judges you for not reading the book. Whether it’s a weekly group, a local yarn shop hangout, or just sharing your latest project on social media, knitting comes with a built-in community of enthusiastic, often hilariously passionate people who love a good fiber pun and are willing to cheer you on when your sweater sleeve goes rogue.

6. It’s Okay to Drop a Stitch - And That’s a Life Lesson
Knitting teaches you that mistakes are part of the process. Drop a stitch? No biggie. Tangle your yarn into a spaghetti mess? Happens to the best of us. It’s a gentle reminder that life, like knitting, isn’t about perfection. It’s about patience, creativity, and knowing that you can always frog it and start again.

Final Thread
Knitting might not be a replacement for therapy, but it’s definitely a mental health power-up. It’s portable, it’s productive, and it makes your brain (and your hands) feel good. So the next time the world feels a little too much, just remember: when in doubt, knit it out.

And if anyone asks why you’re carrying a giant bag of yarn around? Just tell them it’s for your mental health. Because it totally is.

Now go forth and purl with purpose.

​By Linda Schaefer

I have been in a bit of a knitting slump over the past couple of months. Although I haven't stopped knitting, my outcomes have been underwhelming. In moments when I can be kind to myself, I realize that my focus is compromised by the stresses that plague us all at some time or another: family issues, world issues, personal issues. 

At one point I announced that I was going to knit no more this year. The idea of tossing all of my unsuccessful projects onto a blazing bonfire seemed reasonable. In calmer moments I pictured myself boxing up all of my yarn and donating it to delighted recipients to be knit and crocheted into blankets and hats and scarves for those in need. Imagining my once overflowing closets now empty was somewhat calming.

But once the dramatic wave subsided, I took a gentler look at the situation. Was I disappointed that a pattern I really liked and had worked on for months didn't fit? Yes, I was. Was I frustrated with the fact that I'd believed I'd done the preliminary work before starting the project and it still wasn't right? You bet I was. Did I promise myself that I'd do the math more carefully next time? Ask Jennifer. While all of those things were true, another reality crept into my consciousness: though I considered myself a failure, I had to admit that I'd learned a lot.

Even though the main project I'd been working on was eventually unraveled, the beautiful yarn relegated to a box to be dealt with in the future, I conquered several techniques that I thought would be out of my wheelhouse and created new neural pathways, something I celebrate. I learned how to do the Italian or tubular bind off and now love the process. I learned how to do an Italian cast on, concentrating hard and starting over again and again and finally working it out and enjoying the finished look. I learned how to attach a double knit placket and a new way to do buttonholes at the same time, which created a beautiful design and professional finish to the piece. 

My father used to say "What's worth doing is worth doing so-so." To me that means that there is value in attempting to do things that you may not ultimately be proficient in because otherwise you mightn't try anything new at all. Worrying about not doing something perfectly, or even well, robs us of learning new things that we might enjoy doing just so-so. This adage certainly rang true upon my evaluation of my knitting. So-so is fine. Mistakes are fine, because in fact they are lessons, and we can all stand to learn new things.