Healing through Weaving Archives - Kelly Casanova Weaving Lessons

I am sometimes surprised by the fear that can exist in newer weavers (and often not-so-new weavers as well). The fear that you’ll get stuck and not know what to do. The fear that the project won’t turn out the way it’s supposed to. The fear that you’re not smart enough to learn how to use your loom. The fear that you’ll waste yarn if you make a mistake. I could go on!

I know fledgling weavers who have abandoned a new loom into a corner, a spare room, or – dare I say it – a dusty garage. The fear is too great to make a start, and they feel they’ve failed before they’ve even begun.

I say I’m surprised, but I really shouldn’t be. All it takes is a few moments of thinking back to when I was a new weaver myself. I was so excited by this beautiful piece of equipment, but silently terrified. What a privilege, but what a responsibility!

Is that fear still with me? Not really – although I’ll admit I still feel a flicker of apprehension when I’m trying something new with very expensive yarn. I don’t think that ever fully goes away, and honestly, I’ve made peace with that. A little respect for your materials isn’t the same thing as fear holding you back.

Today we’re going to talk about overcoming the fear of weaving so that you can approach your loom with excitement and confidence.

Where the fear actually comes from

If you look closely, loom-fear is rarely actually about the loom. It’s about the unknown. It’s not knowing what a mistake looks like yet, so every choice feels risky. It’s not having made enough cloth yet to trust that most things can be fixed, unwoven or re-jigged.

This shows up in different ways depending on where you are in your weaving. For newer weavers it’s often the blank warp itself – that first moment of “what if I get this wrong before I’ve even started weaving.” I wrote a warping guide to help you get past that particular flavour of fear over on this warping page if that’s where you’re stuck.

For others, it’s less about technique and more about what weaving means to them emotionally – using the loom as a place of comfort or steadiness through a hard season, and feeling nervous about whether they’re “allowed” to lean on it that way. If that resonates, I wrote more on that in Weaving for Healing: When the Loom Becomes More Than a Hobby.

And it’s not just weavers. Researchers have found that fear of failure is a major reason people avoid starting things at all – a study out of Nyenrode Business University and IE University found that around half of people believe they’d perform better if they weren’t so worried about getting it wrong.

That fear doesn’t just slow us down once we’ve started, it stops us from starting in the first place. Other research links this same fear directly to procrastination, showing that what looks like putting something off is very often fear in disguise. So if you’ve been avoiding your loom, please know it’s not a personal failing – it’s a very human, well documented response. And it doesn’t have to be that way.

How to actually rid yourself of the fear

It’s more simple than it feels in the moment. You arm yourself with the knowledge you need, and you practice.

Read books. Find resources. Take courses. Find other weavers and network with them. And then practice, practice, practice. Start simple and work your way up.

Think of how an athlete trains. That’s you, at your loom. Training, practicing, learning from your mistakes, building your knowledge, one project at a time. If you do this, the magic starts to happen. That magic is confidence. And with confidence, the sky really is the limit.

If you’re at that frozen with fear stage

A few places to start:

If you’re brand new and don’t even know where to begin, my New to rigid heddle weaving? Start here page shares resources to get you started.
My YouTube channel has a huge library of free videos to help you get going.
My Online Weaving School is a warm, structured place to build real confidence at your own pace.
My Facebook Group is a friendly, welcoming spot to ask questions without feeling silly for asking.
And if you’d like more of my day-to-day thoughts on the making life, including the fears and challenges that come with it – I share those regularly over on the Kindred Creatives Space.

A quick, practical note too: a lot of early fear can come down to fighting your tools or not having the right tools, rather than the technique itself. If your shuttle feels clumsy in your hand or your yarn keeps tangling and testing your patience before you’ve even started weaving, that’s worth solving early.

I have a list of my personal essential weaving tools that are in constant rotation in my studio right here. You can also Shop My Studio here.

I hope this post inspires you to go out there and weave something beautiful – fear and all. That’s really the secret nobody tells you: you don’t have to wait for the fear to leave before you start.

Start anyway, the confidence will catch up 😉

Until Next Time…

Happy Weaving!

*This post contains affiliate links. For more information, please see my disclosure policy.

Over the years, I’ve had so many women quietly tell me the same thing:

“My loom helped me through a really hard time.”

“Weaving is really helping me through this period of grief”.

“Weaving is good for my mental health”.

We don’t often talk about this side of weaving. We talk about the excitement of new projects, yarn choices, techniques and looms. But there’s another layer to it – the quiet support that weaving can offer when life feels heavy.

I want to explore that here – not as therapy advice, because I am definitely not a therapist! Not as a substitute for proper support, because that is absolutely key for healing of any kind.
But as an honest look at why weaving can feel deeply stabilising during stressful or painful seasons.

(And just to reiterate clearly – weaving is not a replacement for professional health care. If you’re struggling, please seek the right support!)

The Comfort of Repetition

Think about what happens at the loom.

Throw the shuttle.
Beat.
Change shed.
Repeat.

There’s something incredibly regulating and grounding about that gentle rhythm.

When life feels chaotic or uncertain, the loom does not change. The process is the same today as it was yesterday. The loom waits until we’re ready for the next weaving session.

Our nervous systems respond well to predictable, repetitive movement. Both hands working. A steady pace. Clear steps.

You don’t have to make a hundred decisions.
If you run into problems or errors you can address them quietly and in your own time.
Then you progress to the next step.

It’s just you, the weaver, and the loom in that moment of time.

That simplicity can be a relief.

Weaving During Stressful Seasons

There was a period in my life when my son was very ill in hospital for an extended time. It was exhausting and uncertain, and there were so many things completely outside my control. At times, we didn’t know if he would make it.

To add to the distress, I was quite sick with the flu myself and there were many days that I couldn’t be with him at the hospital, which was quite a distance from our home.

During that season, weaving became something steady.

It didn’t solve the situation or remove the stress. Actually, at first I felt selfish for sitting at the loom when I couldn’t be at my son’s side.

But it gave me:

A familiar process
A quiet mental focus
A small sense of completion

When everything else felt unpredictable, the loom was predictable.

The warp was still straight.
The heddle still lifted and lowered.
Cloth still formed, one row at a time.

And sometimes, that was enough to steady me for the day. I even made a Youtube video during that time because it helped me to feel I was doing something positive for someone else.

Weaving and Chronic Illness

If you live with chronic illness, you’ll understand how much it can affect your sense of identity and capability.

Energy shifts.
Plans change.
Progress feels inconsistent.

One of the things I’ve appreciated about weaving is that it allows for slowness.

You can sit and weave for ten minutes or longer if you feel up to it.
You can stop without “failing.”

Even weaving a small section of cloth can restore a sense of competency and satisfaction – a reminder that your effort still produces something tangible.

Why Structure Feels Safe

Weaving is built on structure.

Warp first, then weft, tension balanced, order maintained. Step by predicable step.

There is real comfort in that structure.

When your emotions feel messy or overwhelming, when your thoughts lack clarity, working within a clear system can feel grounding. You are not staring at a blank canvas wondering what to do. You follow steps, repeat sequences and see progress.

Rigid heddle weaving in particular lends itself beautifully to this. Once your loom is dressed, the work becomes rhythmic and contained. The setup takes less time so is more manageable.

Weaving Through Grief

Grief is difficult to put into words and can be so individual.

Textile work gives your hands something to do when your mind feels foggy. It’s something tangible and stable in a time where nothing feels controllable. Weaving can feel like “something to hold on to”.

Some women choose to:

Weave with colours that remind them of someone
Create a small memorial piece
Weave for someone else who is grieving or going through a difficult stage
Incorporate meaningful yarn into a project

Creating a Gentle “Healing Weaving” Practice

If you’re walking through a stressful season and would like to use your weaving as support, here are a few simple ideas:

Keep one loom dressed.
Remove the barrier of setup.

Choose simplicity.
Plain weave. Soft colours. No pressure to be clever.

Weave how you feel.
Ten minutes is enough if that is all you can cope with. Or spend the entire day at the loom if you are able. Whatever feels most healing for you for today.

Let it be private.
Not everything needs to be shared online or with others if you don’t want to. Just like artwork, it can be done just for you.

Notice the rhythm.
The sound of the shuttle.
The beat of the reed.
The growing cloth.

Sometimes the most helpful thing is simply the repetition.

What Weaving Is and Isn’t

Weaving is not a cure for everything.
It’s not therapy and it’s not a fix for trauma.

But it can be:

A steady rhythm
A quiet anchor
A creative outlet
A small place of control in a season that feels out of control

Across history, women have woven through war, loss, uncertainty and transition. Cloth has always been made during ordinary days and very hard ones.

There is something deeply human about building structure when life feels unstructured.

If you’ve experienced weaving as something more than just a hobby, I would love to hear about it in the comments.

You may be encouraging someone else more than you realise.

If you are in a season of struggle and don’t feel you’re coping, I urge you to please, get help. Whether it’s talking to friend, family member or someone you trust online. Maybe it’s joining a support group. Or maybe you need to go deeper and seek out professional help. You don’t have to do it all alone ❤️

Until next time…

Happy Weaving!