Slowing down, stitching again, and staying present

After finishing the first minky blanket, I felt something shift.

Not just because the blanket was done (though that felt really good) — but because I felt ready to start the next one. More prepared. More grounded. More like someone who sews… not out of pressure, but out of presence.

The next blanket was also a Christmas gift, and I wanted it to feel just as special.

But this time — I slowed down.

I took my time.

I prepped carefully.
I pinned more thoughtfully.
I remembered what I learned from the first round — that minky likes to wander, and that my seams feel so much better when I give myself more space.

The fabric pooled softly beside me this time — less unruly, more willing — and the sewing felt smoother.
Not perfect.
Not fast.
But deeply satisfying.

And then something even more important happened.

As I stitched, I noticed that feeling again.
That quiet sense of Oh… there she is.

The version of me who used to sew more often.
The one who found calm in the hum of the machine.

But this time, she’s a little softer.
A little more spacious.
A little more mindful of how precious it is to have time like this.

I’m not trying to become my “old creative self.”

I’m learning how to be her again — but in a way that fits my life now.

And that matters.

These moments of making help me see myself more clearly.
They remind me that I still know how to create.
That I can bring softness into a season that’s often busy and loud.

And more than anything, they’ve shown me that I want to keep this part of me close.

Not just for the holidays.
Not just for gifts.
But for me.

This isn’t just a sewing season.

It’s a remembering season.