Endings

December 8, 2012

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. Henry David Thoreau

I’ve learned a few things about myself in these 40 days. Of course, you don’t need to escape to the desert to learn a few things about yourself; it’s possible anywhere, anytime- as long as there’s space to notice. One of my hopes is that I continue to make space to notice the lessons of the everyday, long after Nada.

Some Lessons from Life at Nada Hermitage: 

1. I can adjust to almost any environment, except those with rodents.

2. I enjoy cooking… alone. I can share the kitchen with others, but we must have separate projects.

3. Quinoa, oats, and apples can take you far.

4.  I can sit in the lotus position for 20 minutes in comfort and stillness.  30 minutes is pushing it.

5. I have a running commentary going on in my head at all times which is very difficult to silence.

6.  I love to read.

7.  I love to write.

8. I am so very impatient with humanity.

9. I can be quite content in a one room cabin.

10. I take beauty for granted.

11. I highly underestimate the importance of daily sunshine to my mental health. 

12. I don’t drink nearly enough water.

13. I need regular doses of unadulterated nature.

14. I can assimilate back into mainstream society with frightening ease.

And there’s more, which only those who read my journal after I’m long gone will be subjected to.

So, that’s it, for now anyway. Depending on my next adventure, I may or may not return to the land of the bloggers. It’s been fun, and especially worthwhile knowing that kind eyes were reading it. I hope it’s been worthwhile for you too! Thank you for your support and your interest during these 40 days.

So now tomorrow I start off again “on pilgrimage,” for we have here no abiding city. Much as we may want to strike our roots in, we are doomed to disappointment and unhappiness unless we preserve our detachment. It is the paradox of the Christian life… Dorothy Day

Reflection on Week 4

The all-too-familiar feeling of anxiety returned early last week as I noted the days at Nada winding down. It’s not anxiety about returning to “regular life” or facing up to a difficult relationship. Nor am I anxious about maintaining what I’ve begun here in much less conducive environments. It’s anxiety around the perennial question, “What’s next?” I’m not worried about finding something to occupy my time or even someone willing to pay me to keep busy. I don’t fear finding a job (thanks be to God) but, more critically, finding the right job. The question that permeates my world, year in and year out, is this: “To what shall I dedicate my life?”

Specifically, the anxiety reared its ugly head the evening I chose to take a quick glance at my typical job posting sites, after a two month hiatus. Prior to that hiatus I compulsively checked these sites for something that ignited me. (After all, we are meant to “set the world on afire!” with St. Ignatius’ blessing.) But few if any postings even sparked a notable interest. I chalked it up to burnout and, once my Nada plans were set, felt hopeful for renewed enthusiasm and focused direction post retreat.

Well, this desert retreat is ending and that quick glance of job postings left no impression on me and no motivation to submit a single application. I saw many fine jobs, mind you; there are plenty of jobs that I could do happily for awhile (assuming I’m offered the chance!) Yet still none that pull me, none to which I feel called to do.

Let me say that everything I’ve written is the epitome of privilege. That fact doesn’t escape me. Choosing among jobs is a dream come true for the unemployed. Taking time away from a paycheck to discern the next step is an unfathomable reality for most of the world. And it may be precisely because of my privilege that I feel such an intense responsibility to choose wisely, to think carefully about Frederick Buechner’s image of vocation: the place where your deep gladness meets the world’s deep hunger.

But my method of discerning sometimes looks a lot like beating a dead horse. I spend an extraordinary amount of time thinking, and praying, and choosing…which all conveniently delays any acting. I spend so much energy honing in on the right tree that I miss the very good forest. When awareness of that behavior hits, I recall Mary Jo Leddy’s necessary celebration of that which is “good enough” in her book, Radical Gratitude. Searching endlessly for the “right” job (read “perfect”) paralyzes my ability to share my skills and talents.

So, continuing in my tradition of following the wisdom of good writers, there are three guideposts I received from my readings here that need to accompany my job search:

I would like to do whatever it is that presses the essence from the hour. Mary Oliver, Blue Pastures

This desire must stay central throughout my search and throughout my work. It’s been one of my unnamed mantras during this contemplative experience. I’ve felt from the first day I arrived that this was precious time, not to be wasted, not to be used in an idle way. By that I don’t mean every moment demanded a productive “doing”, but rather a basic mindfulness. So, whether my chosen activity was reading, writing, walking, or sitting, it had to be done with intention and attention to feel worthwhile. Then, whatever the activity, if it brought me joy, it easily pressed every ounce of essence from that particular hour. I desire the same from my work.

I understood that Love embraces all vocations….at last I have found my vocation, my vocation is Love! Therese of Lisieux

This passage is such a critical addition to my repertoire of vocation insights. It’s a simple gift, as the Shakers would say. It lets me off the hook from finding the “perfect” job, knowing that I have the capacity to love in any situation. If loving is my primary vocation, there are a multitude of “right” paths at my door. I just need to pick one and start walking, in love. If I can do that, then the destination will be decided for me. In other…better…words:

For us there is only the trying. The rest is not our business. T.S. Eliot

Penultimate Day in the Desert

December 4, 2012

Tomorrow I must leave…and it is so beautiful, so peaceful here, far from noise and traffic and the world. There are good books here to be read and studied – Gill and Belloc and Chesterton, sociologists, historians, and philosophers. There are the Scriptures to be studied. There is God’s beautiful world, the world He loved around us, with its simple people, hard-working people, poor people. Life is beautiful here, and I hate to go… It is so good to have such beginnings as this to come to, for “refreshment, light, and peace.” Dorothy Day

As I prepare to leave Nada tomorrow I’m having a hard time coming to any worthwhile conclusion about the experience. Dorothy’s thoughts above were written at the end of a visit to her daughter’s farm in West Virginia, and they do a good job of summing up my time in Crestone. The beauty, the peace, the books, the people…it’s all been so good.

My 40-day journey officially ends Sunday when I return to the east coast. Before then I’ll be considering a proper ending to this contemplative experience, and probably this blog, as I meander through Denver, Boulder, and Ft. Collins.

For now, I’ll leave you with my final weekly reflection that I shared with the group today. Maybe it will have something to say to those of you with similar anxieties. 

Advent Conspiracy

December 3, 2012
Blessed is the season that engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love. Hamilton Wright Mabie

Ah, Advent!

December 2, 2012
Be alert! You do not know when the time will come. Mark 13:33

I love Advent. The music. The colors. The wreaths, and calendars, and creches. The "permission" to check-out of America's December busyness. And, most importantly, the feeling that something special is about to happen. The experience of Advent waiting certainly changes as we age; but while our eagerness is no longer for Santa's arrival, that same sense of I-can't-stand-the-wait anticipation is an ideal mindset for this season. Many graces contribute to that child-like euphoria; for me, patient attention is key.

I've walked past many a deer out here that were just about to cross a path or road... until I showed up. Instead of darting out, they freeze-sometimes with members of their group split between two sides of the path. I'm never quite sure what to do myself. The times I've stopped to let them pass have been telling: they stay frozen. They're waiting for me to move on. And so I do, once I get the message. After I've reached a safe distance, they rejoin their friends waiting patiently on the other side of the path and together continue on their way. But they will wait it out as long as necessary. They seem much more concerned about preserving life than rushing through it.

Their alertness is also quite remarkable. I watch from inside my hermitage in the mornings as the deer rummage for food among the sand and brush. As I reach for my camera in utter silence at least one lifts its head on alert. It spots me- from 20 feet beyond my window- and stares. They never fail to spot me. They appear to be in states of constant attention to their surroundings- again, aware, I suspect, of the fragility of their lives.

I think I've heard a variety of "stupid deer" references in my day. In fact, there's a whole series of YouTube videos under that theme. Well, the Crestone deer have acquired some sense about living that the rest of us require a lifetime to figure out.