It All Makes Sense To Me Now. (A long post)

I have been going through a few rough spots lately.
And when I am not busy being self-absorbed, I have been worrying about people I love.
When I stress or get overwhelmed, I find that concentrating on something other than what I am worrying about- is extremely helpful.
So, As part of my self imposed therapy, I have started crocheting.
I know.
Who knew?
I had no idea that I could crochet until recently.
My daughters' friend Julia was learning to crochet.
Her interest, sparked the interest in my two daughters and so they asked me if I could purchase crocheting supplies for them.
One day, on our way to cross country practice, I bought a couple of hooks and a few balls of yarn. Recalling an art class from when I was 10, I showed them how to do a basic chain.
It was while teaching them how to crochet, that I suddenly found an odd sense of peace, settling within me.
There is something about the repetitive motion of hooking and plotting of loops that engages my brain in a way that distracts me from anxiety.
I find that by maintaining eye contact with nothing else but the knots I create with my own hands, I am able to block out the chaos of life live-streaming around me.
Then I discovered that if I pray while I am crocheting, it just ratchets up the peace in my mind.
It was while crocheting that I had a revelation about my dad and his unceasing ability to pray.

My dad was constantly muttering blessings, salutations, prayers and intentions.
Always with a rosary at the ready,
He would say the rosary not just once a day, but at times, many many times a day.
I never really understood why he did this.
I thought that chanting rote memorized words could not possibly be effective in reaching his intended audience.
However, with this new gift--yes, I do consider crocheting a gift--
I now understand my father and the efficacy of his incessant rosary praying.
It is because of all of this, that I have somehow been able to sidestep past an abyss of depression.
Recently, even if I did not feel like it, I returned a few phone calls.
One of those calls was to my friend Jeannine who spoke the words:
"It's Not An Option."
She was referring to how she blows through life's trying moments.
What is not an option?
Allowing the challenges to win is not an option.
I found that inspiring.
Last saturday night I had the evening to myself.
Both Kika and Gabi were out at respective parties and Steve was at an out-of-town football game.
I was tempted to just pull the covers over my head and "recharge."
However, since I had already done that the previous day and wanted to be proactive about making sure that 'depression was not an option,' I decided to go out on a date with myself.
I went to see the movie, Ides of March.
Before I sat down with my popcorn, I made sure that I turned my cell phone ringer off.
So when a high pitched sonar sound rang through the entire darkened theater, I was fairly confident that I was not the culprit.
In fact, I was kind of smug, and a little bit judgmental about the idiot that neglected to be considerate of fellow movie go-ers.
You know the usual embarrassed scramble one makes when their cell phone dings in a forbidden venue?
I found it strange that not one person budged.
As the high pitch sound continued, the woman beside me turned to me and so I asked her in a stage whisper, "whose phone is that??"
She shrugged and then pointed to my coat pocket that was suspiciously lighting up the darkness.

Apparently Steve, who was worried when he could not get a hold of me, decided to make use of the "locate my iphone app" that-I-had-forgotten-about-and-now-know-is-exempt-from-the iphone's-vibrate-mode.
(BIG EYES, profuse sweat, desire to get swallowed up by my puet: check, check, check)
But the saturday night crowded theater was politely forgiving, which was quite refreshing.
After the movie, I went out to eat.
By the time I got home, I felt somewhat victorious over the big D and ended up with more conviction to keep saying yes to life.

Which was good because I needed my A-game to take kids trick or treating in the cold and rainy weather of last monday.
And to continue in my quest to keep moving forward,
yesterday, I said yes to learning how to bake a pie for the first time in my life.
I said yes to a breakfast of vegetable lasagna and coffee with my friend Donna.
Then I went home and proceeded to make two different pots of delicious soup and then
baked a pecan pie -pictured here.

Also yesterday, my friend Stephanie L invited us to go and walk in her church's labyrinth.
Since I am trying to be in the habit of saying yes to the possibility of enriching experiences, I told her that the girls and I would meet her and her girls there. (her daughter is Julia, the one that introduced crocheting to us)
I told Gabi that a labyrinth is a cool maze built with hedges and walls that we can explore and find our way out of.
I told Kika to wear comfy shoes.

When we got there, I discovered that there were no hedges.
After doing a quick readjustment of our expectations,
Gabi ended up doing the Labyrinth prayer walk about 7 times and Kika said she felt inspired to write a story as she was walking it.
I realized that I felt similar to how I feel when I crochet.
As I was walking the prayer labyrinth I could not help but go down a checklist of people in my life that would enjoy this sort of thing and I am quite certain that my dad is one of them.
With a healthy serving of pie after, of course.
Which is what we had.
Of course.