My twin nieces recently decided to learn crochet.
Armed with hooks, bright yarn, and the boundless confidence only eleven-year-olds possess, they were ready to create scarves, hats, and possibly entire winter wardrobes.
What actually happened?
Five minutes later, there was yarn everywhere. On the floor, under the chairs, wrapped around the table legs, and in one case, around their own ankles. Their faces were a study: fierce concentration turned into giggles, giggles into frustration, frustration into dramatic sighs, and then into, “Maasi, you do it!”
Before I could react, they tossed the tangled mess into my lap and skipped away, abandoning crochet entirely and moving on to colouring as though that had been the plan all along.
The Life Lesson in a Tangle
So, there I was, holding what could easily have been mistaken for the aftermath of a very enthusiastic cat party. My nieces were now happily coloring sunflowers in blue and giraffes in pink, occasionally glancing over and asking, “Done yet?”
My first instinct was to mutter something under my breath, untangle the yarn as quickly as possible, and hand it back.
But then a little voice in my head said,
“Wait. Why are you even doing this?” And just like that, the moment became a metaphor.
Isn’t that exactly what life feels like sometimes?
People hand you their messes. Sometimes without warning, sometimes with a sweet smile, sometimes with no guilt at all. You’re left doing the emotional crocheting, untangling, straightening, and smoothing, while they’ve already moved on to something lighter, brighter, or more fun.
Choosing How to Untangle
I sat there with that yarn and had two choices:
1. Untangle it quickly and silently, hand it back, and pretend I was never inconvenienced.
2. Untangle it slowly, mindfully, and deliberately, reminding myself that not every mess is mine to fix, but if I choose to fix it, it will be on my own terms.
That day, I chose option two.
I took my time, enjoyed the small satisfaction of freeing each knot, and when I was done, I wound the yarn neatly and handed it right back to them with a smile that said, “Here you go. Try again.”
Because here’s what I realized while sitting cross-legged with that yarn.
Life Lessons from a Ball of Tangled Yarn:
Not every mess is mine to fix. I get to choose.
Just because someone hands you chaos doesn’t mean you have to catch it.
Boundaries are like yarn tension, too tight and nothing moves, too loose and everything unravels.
Some knots need gentle patience, some need a firm pull, and some need to be cut loose completely.
And sometimes the smartest thing you can do is exactly what the girls did, walk away and pick up something that makes you happy.
So yes, I untangled the yarn that day.
But I also untangled a little lesson for myself. I don’t always have to jump in to fix, smooth, or rescue. I can pause, take my time, and choose which “yarn messes” in life are worth my energy.
And next time someone tosses me a mess and runs away, I might toss it right back and go pick up my own box of crayons.
Because honestly? Colouring giraffes pink sounds like a lot more fun!
This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.
Lovely perspective Mayuri.
If it was me, I would have probably spent all my time sorting out/untangling the yarn, rolling them up neatly into separate rolls and then proceeding to hide them away.
Clearly, you’re a very patient and thoughtful aunt
Cheers,
CRD
Only two options- endure the chaos and let it overwhelm us, or reluctantly take it upon ourselves?
The third one being happily take it up?
I face the same situation with my teenage son, who leaves his clothes strewn about instead of putting them away. I either ignore it and ask him to clean up, or do it myself when I feel like it.
I laughed reading this because it perfectly describes my own struggles with yarn! I always start a project thinking it will be relaxing, but then I lose count of stitches and it turns into a mess. The part about the yarn getting tangled just when you are in the flow is so real; I have spent hours just undoing knots. It is nice to know I am not the only one with a pile of unfinished projects hiding in the closet!
Interesting perspective from tangled balls of yarn, Mayuri. Yes, it is on us to choose. Just a few days before Diwali, my daughter got some tissue buntings to hang. She asked me to open the courier, and when I did, all were entangled. For the first time, I was in no mood to untangle them, so I told my daughter. She was taken aback, as I always do all her work. I felt a sense of freedom while doing so.
That’s a lovely lesson to learn from chaotic crochets. My daughter is learning it, but she cleans up the mess herself.
That’s delightfully chaotic… crochet with a side of life’s unpredictability. Loved the candidness and the colour that this simple hobby brings into life!
Pink giraffes are certainly more fun. Yes, we should choose, untangle someone’s mess or let them do it themselves or maybe just a little helping hand before moving on. It’s not for us to fall into the tangle if we don’t wish it.
I can play with yarns and knit too… But if you ask me what you can make out of it…. My answer will be only muffler and nothing else 🙂 my expertise is upto this only with wool and Crochets ….. beyond that becomes a true chaos.
Lol! What a clever metaphor with crochet and chaos. You really showed how life sometimes hands us messy yarns, and it’s up to us whether we untangle them or walk away. Great reminder that that it’s okay not to fix every mess.
I love how this story turns a simple tangle of yarn into a powerful reminder about boundaries, choices, and emotional labour. The metaphor is beautifully relatable—life often hands us messes we didn’t create, but we get to choose how, when, or whether to untangle them. Your reflection is gentle, wise, and quietly empowering. And yes—sometimes colouring pink giraffes truly is the healthiest choice.