How a Little Hobby Changed My Perspective
Finding My Room
The years following the pandemic left me feeling like everything was out of control. And for me, what kept me sane was finding one small place where I was in control.
In my workshop, I personally wash, press, measure, cut, and pin every piece of fabric I use. My hands and my heart are all over my work. And while the world can be loud, chaotic, and unpredictable, in that space I get to decide everything.
The project.
The fabric.
Each stitch.
Even when to tear it apart and start over.
I get to create something that never existed before. And that brings me so much joy.
That workshop became my room—not just a physical space, but a room in my life where I decide what comes in and what stays out.
The Room the Pandemic Couldn’t Touch
When the world shut down in March of 2020, there seemed to be nowhere to breathe. The internet was overwhelming. The television was somber. We watched numbers and maps like the danger was inching closer to our doors.
But I had something that surprised me.
I had a room.
A room filled with creativity and calm at a time when fear and grief felt unavoidable everywhere else. That feeling wasn’t allowed in my room. The outside world stayed outside.
I had bought my sewing machine just three months before the pandemic thinking it would be fun to learn. Maybe even a small side business. I had no idea it would save my sanity.
With a few weeks of learning—and some bleeding fingertips—I figured out how to thread the machine, read a pattern, cut fabric, and sew a mostly straight line. I didn’t realize I was building myself a room to survive in.
Building Rooms for Joy
I believe everyone has this kind of fire inside them—a spark waiting to be lit if we’re willing to try something new.
Why are we so afraid to fail at things we’ve never done before?
Kids aren’t. They try everything. They’re terrible at most of it. And we cheer anyway. We hang scribbled art on refrigerators. We clap at talent shows where “talent” is more tradition than truth. They fall off bikes a hundred times before riding away grinning.
Somewhere along the way, we lost the joy in learning.
When did we decide that if we aren’t immediately good at something, it isn’t worth doing?
The last few years shook everything loose. Priorities shifted. People stopped chasing only money and started chasing joy. I’ve watched people leave careers to open cupcake shops, create art spaces, practice energy healing, or simply do something that makes them feel alive—with no intention of monetizing it.
People are claiming rooms for themselves in the houses they built for everyone else.
What My Room Taught Me
When I started sewing, I didn’t realize I was waking up a part of myself that had been quiet for decades. I was ridiculously proud of my crooked zippers, tiny pillows, and lopsided blankets. I would have hung them on the refrigerator if I could have.
Sewing taught me things that spilled into the rest of my life:
Problems are solvable—sometimes you just need to rethread the bobbin
Mistakes aren’t failures; they show you how to slow down and try again
Even the “ugliest” fabric belongs somewhere
When your hands, heart, and mind are fully engaged, there’s no room left for fear
When I sew, my focus narrows to the fabric moving under the presser foot. Not what came before. Not what comes next. Just the present moment.
I believe every one of us has something that can do that for us if we’re willing to look for it.
Find Your Room
Your room doesn’t have to be a sewing workshop.
It might be a garage where you restore old cars.
A kitchen where you bake sourdough.
A corner of your living room where you practice guitar.
A trail where you run.
A notebook where you write.
It’s not about the physical space. It’s about creating a room in your life where joy lives. Where mistakes are expected. Where perfection isn’t required. Where the chaos of the world has to wait outside.
What room are you going to build for yourself?
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