Meditating with crotchet

In my book Druidry and Meditation, I talked a bit about the idea that any activity can be used meditatively. It being a small book, I didn’t explore in detail the many options here. When anything can be a meditation, the potential for discussion is large to the point of being unwieldy. But, this is a more personal one.

I know a lot of Druidy women who work with wool, from spinning it and dyeing to weaving, knitting, crotchet and felt. Working with wool is inherently tactile and it’s an activity that connects us to our ancestors. Especially women. Spinning was so intrinsic to femininity historically, that women were sometimes buried with their distaff, and the female line of descent could be called ‘the distaff line’. There’s a memorable sequence in Marion ZB’s Mists of Avalon, where spinning sends one of the characters into visionary trance states, so it’s not without a magical angle too. Spinning the threads has connotations of fate, and knotted cords are a traditional magical tool. We weave charms too.

I learned a variety of wool and needle crafts as a child, knitting, tapestry and embroidery particularly. I couldn’t get my head around the one needle of crotchet at all. It wasn’t something I took up until after the birth of my son, (ten years ago today). These days crotchet is my preference. I like both the rhythm of it and the total scope for improvising. Any direction possible. New threads always an option, and the third dimension available. I’ve crocheted around pine cones to make woolly squids, for example.

I can get lost in the rhythm of wool passing through my fingers. I find this deeply soothing, and as I am by nature a stressbunny, I frequently need soothing. I take a lot of joy in putting colours together in pleasing combinations. I used to hear all the time that I have no skill with colours, so every time I manage something I like, that’s a very personal kind of victory.

The work is always intended to become something, perhaps with a specific place, use or person in mind, so as I create, I’m also thinking about that intention. I’m contemplating my vision, and around the wool I am often also making a plan, or nurturing a hope. I am crocheting the world as I want it to be. I am knotting together little fragments of dream.

Sometimes I do this consciously and deliberately – which for me defines it as meditation. Sometimes I’m not seeking to discipline my own thoughts, but the rhythm of creating something takes me into a contemplative state. And sometimes making an object is more like making a spell, because the intentions are so strong. A hat for my child to make him smile, and keep him warm on winter bike rides. A blanket to put on a bed that does not yet exist, in a house I have never seen. Dreams and threads tangled together.

Druidry does not have to be about dramatic acts in public places. It can be private, domestic, weaving together strands of creativity and practicality. Magic in living and being, in doing the smallest things.