destination: here

It has been a long, unplanned, and unexpected hiatus for me in this online world.  I can't say there has been any good reason for my absence.  

Sure, we are busy.  

But we are always busy.  Until now, I've been able to squeeze in a little writing at least a few times each week.  For some reason, I was allowing other things to distract my energies.

We haven't been on vacation.  

In fact, we still have two full weeks of school left. At least for my littles anyway. My students have been gone for a week now.  If you work in education, you may know that this only means that the frenzied pace has slowed to a steady buzz.  It certainly hasn't been 'vacation.'  The slowing is welcome, though.

Nothing is wrong.  

In fact, quite the contrary.  I have been reflecting on the journey I began more than a year ago.  A journey to understand the growing tension I had with religion which was in sharp contrast with my lifelong commitment to worship.  I wasn't doubting my faith, just the everyday things I was experiencing that seemed counter to the God I had come to know.  I identified as Christian, but everything Christian around me didn't seem at all - well - Christian.

I knew somewhere on this journey, I would discover a little more of me.  And that I have.  When I began the journey, I was certain change was on the horizon.  There have been more than a few blog posts about the imminence and anticipation of change.  What I've discovered is that there is no destination on this journey. No arrival point.  

I've come to love the journey itself.  I love the discovery of new ways of worship.  I love the joy of each moment spent really being with my children. I love what giving more of myself in very purposeful ways has unearthed.  

I love that being critical of others makes me physically uncomfortable.  Early in my writing I talked often about how judgmental I can be.  I still am. And I will always play right into a conversation which allows me to give voice to my thoughts.  I've tried to stifle my words.  That doesn't usually go well.  So, I've stopped trying to contain them.  I have, however, allowed myself to feel anxious as conversations turn belittling and, instead, try to use my words to explore all the possibilities that may be considered. This has been a gift of meditation.  I can't explain this, but I know.

Perhaps I needed some space.

I have to be honest.  When I first realized that this journey was not going to lead to some dramatic life change, no move to the east coast, no new job, no new church, I was a little sad mad.  It didn't make sense to me that I would stay where I am, doing what I'm doing, living here.  I wanted grand - doctoral program, a new job somewhere in Massachusetts (don't ask, I don't know why).  

So when I found fullness despite all the things that make me sad, yet amidst all the things that make me happy, I couldn't write.  I really didn't know what to say or how to say it. Space and time have given clarity and peace to this discovery.  Somehow I've finally come to understand that every situation brings dissonance and resolution - no matter how far I hope to run from the things that aren't perfect.  

 

There is a chord progression that fills my soul so that I feel warmth and light pour from my body.  Oh, how I wish I could let you hear it.  Only recently have I realized that these two notes follow a long phrase filled with musical tension bringing the song to a place of peace.  So too is life -  a series of tensions, of dissonance, wrapped in beauty and love and peace - no matter where I am or what I am doing.

Looking back at these last few paragraphs, I'm thankful for the pause.  I also think I am ready to get back to writing.  I think I will!

Peace...