We all have different ways to find our quiet spot: that quiet place in our minds and hearts where we regroup from day to day pressures and those bigger stressors that challenge the community as a whole.

My mother reached for her yo-yos. She quilted and created many lovely bed coverings for her children and grandchildren, but in her later years, she always had her basket of yo-yos. She hand-stitched these small scraps of fabric into circles with the plan to put them together into a larger hanging. Along the way, she made smaller pieces on special themes.

One of my sisters retreats into her counted cross stitch. Her high-stress career in business management left her drained and with little time to herself. To unwind, she stitched design after design, intricately blending colors in nostalgic and seasonal scenes. It was all in the process.

I find solace at the loom. The rhythmic swing of the beater and passing the shuttle back and forth, watching the fabric grow with each throw, easing any tensions cluttering my mind.

Depending on the time of the year, making time for weaving can be a challenge. Each season has its own activities, some always a priority, others done because they have to be.

Summer seems to be the best time to visit our children and grandchildren living in different parts of the country. We love to see and hug them all, working around their schedules and ours to make sure we get to see them. Summer is also a time for home maintenance and fix-ups not possible in the winter months. And the summer garden always needs more attention that I usually afford it. Still, in October, my tomatoes continue to bear!

I can tell when I’ve been away from the loom for too long though. The small sense of urgency and tension whispers in the back of my mind until it becomes a priority of its own—I’ve got to get something on the loom!

And so it was last month. I methodically measured the warp, quietly threaded the heddles, carefully wound the threads onto the loom. That’s where I found my happy spot. The quiet swing of the beater. Passing the shuttle back and forth, watching the fabric grown with each throw.

Where is your quiet spot?