🧶 There's a particular kind of medicine that happens when women gather with their hands busy and their guards down.
Yesterday I sat in a circle of women learning to crochet — needles clicking, yarn tangling, laughter filling in the gaps between stitches. None of us claim to be experts. All of us were exactly where we needed to be.
We talk so much about self-care as something solitary — a bath, a journal, a quiet morning alone. But some of the deepest healing I know happens in community. In the presence of other women who see you, root for you, and don't need you to have it figured out.
Yesterday reminded me: connection is not a luxury. It's a nutrient. And I left that room fuller than I came in.
Grateful for the hands, the hearts, and the humble skein of yarn that brought us together. 🧶
