Choosing With Intention: Finding the Right Project for You, Right Now
Have you ever fallen completely in love with a knitting or crochet pattern?
Maybe you spotted it on Instagram. Perhaps a friend was wearing something beautiful at your local yarn shop. Or maybe you discovered the most incredible skein of yarn and immediately started imagining all the things it could become.
Before you know it, you've purchased the pattern, gathered the yarn, and added another project to your ever-growing queue. (FULL DISCLOSURE: I have done this too many times and have a closet of yarn for these exact type of projects.)
There's something wonderful about that excitement, isn't there? The possibilities. The colors. The anticipation of casting on something new. I love that part of making.
But I've been thinking about something lately. Sometimes the excitement of choosing a project is very different from the experience of actually making it. And that brings us to Week 4 of our Mindful Making journey.
FROM NOTICING TO CHOOSING
Over the past few weeks, we've been looking at our creative lives a little differently.
First, we explored our why. What draws us to making, and how do we want our creative time to feel?
I chose three words:
Comfort • Quiet • Familiar
Then we considered whether our projects actually fit the season of life we're in. We looked at our time, energy, attention, and curiosity.
Last week, we explored some of those creative shoulds we carry around.
I should finish that sweater.
I should use the yarn in my stash.
I should stop starting new projects.
I should be making something more challenging.
And we began giving ourselves permission to question those expectations.
Now we're ready to take everything we've noticed and do something with it. And we're going to start choosing with intention. Not because every project needs a grand purpose or we need another set of rules about what we're allowed to make. But because the more we understand what we want from our making, the easier it becomes to choose projects that genuinely fit our lives.
START WITH THE EXPERIENCE, NOT THE FINISHED OBJECT
When we choose a project, we often begin by imagining the finished piece.
That gorgeous sweater.
The shawl we can picture wrapped around our shoulders.
The socks that would make the perfect gift.
The hat we know we'll wear all winter.
And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. After all, part of the joy of making is creating something beautiful, useful, and uniquely ours.
But there's another part of the experience that deserves our attention.
The hours we spend actually making it.
Think about that for a moment. A sweater might take weeks or months. A shawl might accompany us through an entire season. Even a relatively simple hat represents time spent choosing yarn, casting on, working through the pattern, and finishing.
What do we want those hours to feel like?
Do we want to be challenged?
Do we want to learn?
Do we want something familiar that allows our minds to wander?
Do we want a project that travels easily, or something we can settle into at home?
Do we want to concentrate deeply, or simply enjoy the rhythm of stitches moving through our hands?
The finished object matters. But the experience of making it matters, too.
And sometimes, when we pay attention to both, we discover that the project we thought we wanted isn't necessarily the project we want to spend our time making right now.
FIVE QUESTIONS FOR CHOOSING WITH INTENTION
I've been thinking about how to make this idea practical. Because mindful making shouldn't feel complicated. It shouldn't require us to analyze every skein of yarn or spend an afternoon debating whether we're allowed to cast on something new.
Instead, I want to offer five simple questions you can carry into your next project decision.
I'm calling this the Project With Purpose approach.
1. Why this project?
What drew you to it in the first place?
Was it the color?
The construction?
The opportunity to learn something new?
The way the finished garment looks?
Or perhaps you simply saw it and thought, I have to make that!
There's no wrong answer. The important thing is recognizing what sparked your interest. Sometimes we discover that we're genuinely excited about the making. Other times, we're more excited about the idea of owning the finished piece. Those are two different things, and understanding the difference can help us make choices we'll feel good about.
2. Why now?
This question connects directly to what we explored in Week 2.
Does this project fit the season of life you're in?
Think about your time, energy, and attention. Maybe you're heading into a busy stretch at work or preparing for the holidays. Perhaps you're traveling and need something portable. Maybe you have more uninterrupted creative time than usual and are excited to tackle something complicated. Or perhaps life feels especially full, and you want your knitting to be a place where you don't have to think quite so hard.
A project can be absolutely perfect for you and still not be the right project for right now.
And that's okay. You can love an idea without needing to begin it immediately.
3. Why this yarn?
Oh, this is one of my favorite questions!
As a hand dyer and knitwear designer, I spend an awful lot of time thinking about yarn. Color, texture, fiber content, drape, stitch definition, softness, and the way different yarns behave in different fabrics. But there's another side to choosing yarn that I think we sometimes overlook.
How does the yarn make us feel?
Maybe you're craving the softness of cashmere or the familiar bounce of wool. Perhaps you want to experiment with a fiber you've never used before. Maybe you're drawn to a particular color because it reminds you of a place, a season, or a memory. Or perhaps there's a skein in your stash that makes you smile every time you see it.
The yarn we choose influences more than the finished project. It becomes part of the experience of making.
So before you cast on, ask yourself whether the yarn supports the experience you want to have.
4. What do I want from the process?
This is where our three words become especially useful.
Remember mine? Comfort • Quiet • Familiar
Right now, those words are telling me that I don't necessarily need every project to challenge me. I don't need complicated charts or unfamiliar techniques in every project bag.
Sometimes I want stitches I know. A rhythm I can settle into. And something that feels good in my hands without asking me to make another dozen decisions.
But your words might be completely different. Maybe you chose Curious • Adventurous • Challenged. And you might be craving a new technique, a complicated colorwork project, or an unfamiliar construction.
Choosing with intention doesn't mean always choosing the easiest project.
It means choosing a project that supports the kind of creative experience you want.
5. What would make this project successful?
This might be my favorite question of all because we tend to measure the success of our making by whether we finish something.
Did we complete the sweater?
Did we finish the socks?
Did we get the shawl blocked and ready to wear?
And yes, finishing something can be incredibly satisfying. BUT what if success looked a little different?
Maybe success means:
learning how to knit brioche.
discovering that you love working with linen.
spending an afternoon knitting with friends.
making a gift that carries a little piece of you into someone else's life.
finally creating a sweater that fits your body beautifully.
Or maybe success is simply enjoying the hours you spend making.
When we understand what we want from a project, we can begin recognizing its value long before we bind off the final stitch.
WHAT CHOOSING WITH INTENTION LOOKS LIKE FOR ME
I've been thinking about how these questions apply to my own creative life. And the truth is, not every project I work on begins in the same way.
Sometimes I'm designing a new pattern. Sometimes I'm knitting a sample for a collection. Or I'm experimenting with yarn or trying to work through a construction idea.
Those projects have their own goals, deadlines, and expectations. They're part of my creative work, and I genuinely enjoy that work. But there's a difference between making because I have a design to finish and making simply because I want to spend some time with yarn in my hands.
And I'm learning that I need room for both.
Going back to my current three words: Comfort • Quiet • Familiar
I'm reminded to leave space for projects that don't necessarily have to become something bigger. Something that doesn't need to turn into a new design or have a deadline. But something I can pick up simply because I enjoy it.
That doesn't mean I've stopped loving the challenge of designing or learning something new. It simply means I'm recognizing what I need from my personal making in this particular season.
And perhaps that's one of the most important things I've discovered through this practice:
We can love being creative and still need different things from our creativity at different times.
INTENTION ISN'T ANOTHER RULE
Before we go any further, I want to make something clear. I don't want mindful making to become another set of expectations. And I don't want you to feel like you need to answer five questions before you're allowed to buy yarn. Or complete a worksheet every time you see a pattern you love. Or justify why you want to cast on another project when you already have several on the needles.
Sometimes you see a color and fall in love.
Sometimes a friend invites you to join a knit-along.
Sometimes a pattern simply makes you happy.
AND That can be reason enough.
Choosing with intention isn't about taking the spontaneity out of making. It's about recognizing what brings us joy and making room for more of it. Sometimes our choices will be thoughtful and carefully planned and other times they'll be wonderfully impulsive. And sometimes we'll change our minds halfway through.
That's part of being a maker.
THIS WEEK'S MINDFUL MAKING PRACTICE
This week, I'd love for you to think about one project you're considering starting.
Maybe it's something you've had in your queue for months or a pattern you discovered yesterday. Maybe it's a skein of yarn that's been waiting for the right idea.
Before you cast on, take a moment to ask yourself:
Why this project?
Why now?
Why this yarn?
What do I want from the process?
What would make this project successful for me?
You don't need to write an essay and you don't even need to write anything down.
Just give yourself a moment to consider the answers.
And if you discover that this project isn't quite what you need right now? That's okay, too. There will be other projects. Other seasons. Other opportunities to create.
The goal isn't to make the perfect choice every time. It's to become more aware of the choices we're making.
Next time, we're going to explore how to bring that intention into our everyday routines through ritual and rhythm. Finding ways to make space for creativity that feel inviting rather than obligatory.
But for now, I leave you with two simple questions: Why this? And why now?
Because sometimes the most meaningful projects aren't the ones that impress us the most.
They're the ones that feel right for who we are, what we need, and the season we're in.
Cheers & Stitches,
Crystal
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