A while ago I was feeling out of sorts, a bit edgy, and bored with myself. I didn’t know why and I didn’t know what to do about it.

All I knew was I wanted to shift my mood and stop the creep ... I’d already spent much of the day feeling off and I didn’t want it to creep into what remained of the day.

So I decided to do something. Something I enjoy. I sat at my desk with my collage materials. I like collage work because it’s easy to pick up and put down without taking up a lot of space or having to do a lot of preparation.

After I got going, I realized, once again, it feels good to do.

Was it because I was working with my hands? That may be part of it, but I think it’s more.

I think the doing activates a shift.

A shift from a passive, unsettled state of mind to a state of being active and engaged. It's why I'm such a fan of having hobbies, passions, and pastimes.

It works when I write letters, when I clean, or cook ... just about any activity, really. The challenge, always, is getting started. For the collage work, I started by sitting at the table. I didn’t know what I would do or create, but knew just pulling out the materials would help. And it did.

It's so simple ... yet so hard sometimes.

Why is it so hard? Sometimes it’s because we’re so busy doing for others we forget to tend to ourselves. To take some time (not a lot of time, just some time) to do what we want, instead of what everyone else wants or needs, or demands. Other times, we're just overwhelmed. By our work, our circumstances, and these days, the pandemic.

When I sat down, I wasn't sure what I'd collage, but felt better just sitting with my materials. It was then I realized, it feels good to do. So I made this collage.

This is not the first time I’ve written about stopping the creep. Read my post about the recipe that saved my life and let me know what you do to stop the creep.

What to do?
I was 14 years old, home alone, and I was bored. I paced from my bedroom to the living room to the kitchen, and back again. In the kitchen, I opened and closed the cabinet doors. Over and over again.

I was looking for something. Something to eat? Something to do? I didn't even know. Round and round I went, until I found what I didn't know I was looking for: a tub of Quaker Oats oatmeal.

I decided to make cookies.

My mother was an occasional baker and her go-to cookie was the oatmeal raisin. I'd seen her make them, helped her make them, and I knew where to find the recipe: it's printed on the underside of the lid of every tub of oatmeal.

Sweet relief.
I gathered the ingredients, followed the instructions, and waited for the first batch to bake through—ten minutes, maybe twelve.

To my surprise, baking the cookies lifted my spirits, erased the boredom, and filled the better part of my afternoon. When my mom and brothers and sisters came home we ate cookies together. And they were good. Really good. Just as good as Mom's.

And I was hooked.

Life changing.
I went from being bored (and to be honest, a little lonely), to feeling good, productive, interested, and happy.

It was the gathering of ingredients, the measuring, and the mixing that shifted things. I was focused on baking, no longer distracted by my boredom. Dollops of dough and a baker's dozen. I was hooked.

Baking cookies helped me understand that it's the doing that makes the difference. That hobbies offer not only distraction, but reward, too. Maybe not always with baked goods or a finished product, but a shift ... in mood, progress, outlook, or skill.

The cookies became the start of a life-long pursuit of hobbies, passions, and pastimes. Of baking and hiking, sewing and stitching. Writing letters, cooking, and camping. Some experiences long-lasting efforts, others one-and-done.

I sometimes think my hobby is finding new hobbies.

And why not?

I can whip up a batch of bread and butter pickles, stitch a popped button back on a shirt, and skate backwards on a frozen pond.

And I can bake.

I make a pretty good apple pie, a decent Irish soda bread, and yes, a darn good oatmeal raisin cookie.

I made some this morning. Here's the recipe.

Oatmeal Raisin Cookies
(Adapted from the Quaker Oats Vanishing Oatmeal Cookies recipe. I don't add the cinnamon.)

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup (1 stick), plus 6 tablespoons butter, at room temperature
• 3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1 Teaspoon vanilla
• 1-1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt (optional)
• 3 cups oatmeal, uncooked (preferably not the quick cook)
• 1 cup raisins

Heat oven to 350°F. In a large bowl, beat butter and sugars on medium speed of electric mixer (or by hand) until creamy. Add eggs and vanilla; beat well.

In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking soda, and salt; add to butter and sugar mixture.

Add oats and raisins; mix well.

Drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown. Cool slightly on cookie sheet, remove to wire rack. Cool completely. Enjoy!

If there are any left over, store tightly covered.