A Needle, a Thread. That's all I need for Peace

My name is Irina, and I have lived in Florida since 1992.

I am 61, grew up in Russia in the '60s, was a kid during Soviet Union times.

Now, in America, I work as a professional clown, though as a little girl I dreamed of being a cosmonaut...

Yet, this story is about how needlecraft saved me and not about much else.

* * *

I learned how to thread a needle in Russia by age 5 if not earlier.

It was my Mom's idea. She was a professional teacher with the practical mind of a strong Soviet woman that could solve any problem.

Love you, Mom!

I was an ADHD kid — that’s for sure — but being an overly hyperactive kid was not a medical issue in Russia of that time.

We never heard of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, never saw Ritalin or Adderall. Nobody took me to a therapist or made a big deal out of the fact that I was racing around like a wild monkey or a raging bull.

The way my Mom calmed me down was simply by handing me a needle, a spool of thread, and a piece of fabric.

And thus needlecraft came into my life and never left.

I could not focus on anything for too long unless it was very interesting to me and intricate. Needlecraft was both.

Remember, at the time I was only 5 years old. I didn't know yet of other exciting things in life such as boys or America.

Needlecraft was my first love!

It was a way I could relax and make something tangible out of all the energy running inside of me through all of my 114 burning chakras.

If you’d ask me, I think that this is one of the reasons why people with ADHD have such creative minds. It is because their thoughts are always running amok and interconnecting with each other.

To this day, my brain is working in overdrive. It's all wham-bam and whoosh... It just never stops!

When it gets really bad — I know it is time to go and get a large needle, a thick thread, and a piece of fabric. Any fabric would do, but the brighter the better.

I thread the needle carefully and begin. The sharp tip of it glides through the fabric, in-out, in-out, the fabric weaves between my fingers — I relax.

There's a soothing rhythm to it — it makes me feel at peace.

It doesn’t matter if I can see where the needle goes through or not, what matters is that it's actually threaded onto something so at least one end of it has come out on top (which for some reason always feels really satisfying).

It calms me down almost instantly.

I think about how I could improve on my next stitch or just marvel at the way a needle and thread can pull things together.

Outside of my needlework, I have responsibilities and obligations.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in a circus act with the hoops that people throw at me.

My life is intense. But whose life isn't, right?

In a world where we are all striving to do more, be better, and have it all together, we often forget to take care of ourselves.

Needlecraft is my therapy. Never needed any other. It always worked. Still working. Has no negative side effects.

And I need it to work. I do not want to take any drugs, if I can help it.

Needlecraft is not about doing a task or an assignment. It's just about the sheer joy of putting one stitch in front of another on your way to creating something beautiful.

Not only do you untangle all those wild thoughts inside of you, but also once revealed — they tend to calm down and behave.

My mom used to say, “Irina, you not only see the world differently, but you also live it differently!”

I love her for saying that because I always felt like a misfit and I am grateful to her for placing that first needle in my hands.

They say that a stitch in time saves nine.

But, what about the peace it brings?

I lost my American husband in 2010 to a horrific illness called Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy after 18 years of our beautiful marriage.

“The needle,” I thought and felt at ease as it pierced through the fabric right after his funeral."

It took me almost 10 years to mend my heart.

I am back to being myself — the needle is threading smoothly, keeping me sane, stitching wounds together, repairing pieces that have been torn apart — finding peace right where I am.

Dear Readers, thank you for reading! I write mostly about love. Feel free to share my stories with your loved ones. Special Thanks to Pam Mayer — my tireless friend, editor, and collaborator.