Learning to Slow Down: What Four Days of Weaving Taught Me

My beginner weaving samples from four days of learning, experimenting, and slowing down.

Becoming a Beginner (Again)

There’s something very humbling — and beautiful — about becoming a beginner again.

Over four days, I stepped into the world of weaving alongside three other newcomers. We struggled, we laughed, we had plenty of deer-in-the-headlights moments… and we had an absolute blast.

Our instructor, Jolene (“Jolly”) Northup, guided us with patience, kindness, and deep expertise. Jolly has a way of teaching that goes far beyond technique — she creates space for curiosity, experimentation, and trust in the process. I’m incredibly grateful for her guidance, encouragement, and steady support throughout our time together.

It’s Not a Machine… It’s a Loom 😉

Here’s where things got funny.

In my world, everything with moving parts is a machine. Sewing machines. Quilting machines. Felting machines. You name it.

So naturally, for four straight days, I kept calling the loom… a machine.

Every time I did, Jolly would gently smile and say, “It’s what?”

And I’d laugh and correct myself.

“It’s a loom.”

By day four, it finally stuck, kinda — but honestly, the terminology felt like Greek to me at first. Warp. Weft. Shuttle. Shed. My brain was doing gymnastics.

And yet, that was part of the joy. Letting myself not know. Letting myself learn. Letting myself be a student.

Finding the Meditation in the Process

We had the opportunity to work on four different looms, exploring how each one felt in our hands and in our bodies. Each loom carried its own rhythm and personality — and yes, I definitely found my favorite.

What surprised me most was how meditative weaving became.

The repetitive motion, the quiet focus, the gentle decision-making of color and texture — it all invited me to slow down in a way I haven’t in a long time. For once, I wasn’t “on” as a teacher. I wasn’t managing a room or guiding others. I was simply present, breathing, listening, and creating for myself.

Those four days were the most relaxed and calm I’ve been in a very long time.

Seeing Myself in My Students

There were moments when I didn’t understand what I was doing. Moments of confusion. Moments of starting over.

And in those moments, I found myself thinking about my own students — how vulnerable it feels to learn something new, how easy it is to doubt yourself, and how powerful it is when you choose to keep going anyway.

That’s where growth lives.

It reminded me that creativity doesn’t need to be rushed. It doesn’t need to be perfect. Sometimes it simply asks us to show up, try, stumble, laugh, and trust that whatever unfolds is exactly how it’s supposed to be.

No rules. Just art.

Weaving Into My Fiber Art World

What also excited me deeply was realizing how weaving can weave (pun intended!) right into my existing fiber art world. The possibilities feel endless — texture, structure, pattern, story — all waiting to be explored and integrated into future work.

My creative wheels are already spinning.

Gratitude

Most of all, I’m thankful.

Thankful for Jolly’s wisdom and generosity. Thankful for my fellow classmates and the shared experience of learning together. And thankful for the reminder that slowing down isn’t a luxury — it’s a gift we give ourselves.

Sometimes the most important thing we can do as artists is return to beginner’s mind… and simply be.

Warmly,

Deb