Lately, I have been distracted by thoughts about going
places. As in, “Where, exactly, am I
going in life? What is my direction?” Road signs make me anxious- so
direct, so unquestioned. When I run or walk, I want never to stop, though my
body prevents me. After nearly a year of truly dwelling, in the spirit, in the
ways of which ever community I happen to find myself in, I find myself overcome
with that familiar itch that seems to say, “Okay.
Time to move on.”
Today it occurred to me that perhaps part of the reason I
have been feeling this so strongly is that I am surrounded by a culture that
believes tremendously in a sense of place. It is a belief that expresses itself
in both the smallest details of daily life as well as a more general way of
being. Here, everything has a place. Every fork, knife and spoon belongs in a
particular slot in a particular drawer. Every room is labeled, clearly with its
designated purpose. There are rooms for meeting, rooms for silence. Spaces for
greeting, praying, working and eating. Each person knows her place- the
housekeeper, the scholar, the artisan, the nurse, the teacher. When she it is
her day to do “units” or be a “plate-holder” she knows exactly what this means,
where to stand and what to do. To be honest, I often find this constant order
and sense place overwhelming. It directly contradicts my own place in life
right now, which is seeking, rootless and, in fact, without place. It’s a
familiar feeling- one I had in Chipole often- of something clashing. Usually, I've found this is a symptom of something new forming, if you give it time.
Last week, we celebrated the 60th and 75th
of 16 sisters. The liturgy, like always, was beautiful. I felt fortunate to
celebrate with sisters I have visited with, worked with and who have become my
friends. I find myself, at this point in my life, both amazed and envious of
this milestone. Clearly, these women have found their place in monastic life.
It would be impossible to live with fidelity to their vows for this many years
without confidence in their call to this place. I am a person of great, but
scattered passion. To commit yourself to one life and live that deeply I see as
a brave and admirable thing. I have a thousand lives I want to live. A hundred
dreams, a million plans. Place, certainly, is a gift. But right now what I am
most thankful for is time.
