People often tell me, “You must be so patient to knit.” I always smile when I hear it, because the truth is that knitting didn’t come to me because I was patient. It taught me to be. Patience in knitting isn’t a quiet waiting game; it’s not sitting still while time passes. It’s something far more alive. It hums beneath your fingertips as you move the yarn, loop by loop, row by row. It’s motion disguised as calm. Slowing Down Without Stopping Knitting slows me down, but it doesn’t stop me. In a world that urges us to go faster, to finish sooner, to multitask endlessly, knitting insists on another rhythm. Each stitch asks for attention. Each row rewards presence. You can’t rush a heel turn or a colourwork chart and expect grace at the end; you have to meet the pattern where it is, at its own pace. But slowing down doesn’t mean being idle. There’s a quiet energy in those steady movements, a rhythm that steadies the mind while keeping the hands alive. It’s a kind of grounded forward motio...