I've been unraveling lots of yarn tangles these past three months -- literally, as I've been knitting and crocheting with fervor. It's also fitting because my life right now is behaving just like a huge mess of tangled, randomly and nerve-wrackingly intertwined threads of undisciplinable, knotted yarn.
If you've ever tried to untangle a mess like this, you know the only way to succeed is to slow down, remove any and all attachment to the result, breathe deeply, relax your fingers and hands, breathe again, deeply, and again... And on and on until you and your hands accept the state of the yarn and gently feel their way through the mess.
You zone out, you become one with the yarn (yes, I know, the saying has become so trite, but its true meaning is profound), and over time, your fingers find their way through the tangles and knots. With gentle persistence, you somehow manage to unravel it all.
I started writing this post earlier this year -- in February, to be precise, the day after Rachel and Susan died. I left it mid-sentence and found it in my drafts box today.
It might do me some good to spend more time unraveling yarn... it's a great way to lick the Emotional Flooding Monster.