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The Rosary
March 06th, 2018
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I like to pray the rosary. I didn't understand it for a really
long time. Even when I made my way back to Catholicism it never
made any sense to me. The formal, stilted prayer of my childhood
didn't sit well with me. It felt like a performance and not
a connection to the divine.

The first time I tried it was more of a lark than an honest
effort. The repetition, the monotonous droning of voices, it all
added up to nonsense. I tried it anyway.

At first I was lost in the specifics, the order, which comes next,
and what is a Sorrowful Mystery. Somewhere around the second
decade--that is, the second set of 10 Hail Mary prayers--I lost
focus on the words I was saying and felt my mind snap shut onto an
intention. I thought of a close friend who needed the kind of help
that comes from God, the kind that's deep inside. I said the words
and before I knew it the decade ended. As the Our Father began
again my mind flashed to someone else and held fast. Ten prayers
repeated without a single distracted thought stepping in the way.

It is the way of a mantra. It is the spirit of the mandala. It is
found in a thousand traditions in a thousand faiths in a thousand
forms. The repetition, the effort spent on the menial to provide
focus for the sublime, that is the spirit I find in the rosary.

 -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - 

Tonight I completed work on a small stick that my son picked up on
a walk. It's about 9 inches long and not much more than a twig. It
has been cleaned of bark, soaked in boiled linseed oil, waxed, and
then carefully wrapped in about 4,000 individual threaded knots.
The colors are purple and orange, as he picked them. I'll share
a picture of it on Mastodon without any description so the only
ones in-the-know will be gopher.club.

I made one of these for myself years ago while on a silent
retreat. It became, in a sense, a focus of prayer and intention
much like the rosary. My mind was free to engage on one special
thought because my body was burning away distraction through
precise, monotonous physical actions.

The meaning behind the sticks isn't important to others, but
I thought the idea something you all might relate to. I suspect
there's some element in the passion of knitters, bikers, and
runners. I'm glad I was able to finish this for him tonight.
I think I needed the prayer as much as he'll enjoy the result.