I have been thinking a lot about religion and spirituality and prayer lately. A lot of things have been occurring in my life to encourage this introspection. First, a conversation with Fred, one of the friars, caused him to explain his stance on prayer, which is that, as Americans, we have this constant need to do the biggest and best things all the time, including prayer. We think we need to plan elaborate activities in order to connect with God, who, if you think about it, is really the only being in the universe who completely knows and completely loves us as individuals, and therefore understands our limitations. He really just wants to hear from us and is not expecting anything grandiose. Fred was telling me this as an explanation of why he enjoys praying the Psalms as morning and evening prayer, because the regularity and rhythm is really freeing, instead of stifling. That got me started thinking, especially since it was my week to plan prayer for my community. I have been feeling like I have reached the end of my creative rope when it comes to prayer planning and have, consequently, been beating myself up for not coming up with a bigger and better prayer experience for my housemates. Talking to Fred, though, helped me come to the conclusion that whatever I plan is really of little importance, as long as it inspires conversation with God. Basically, my planned prayer is like a ride to the airport, and it is up to the participants to board the plane in order to reach their final destination.
I then had a meeting with my extremely gentle and insightful spiritual director a couple of weeks ago during which I voiced frustration with myself about my prayer life, or rather, my lack thereof. I can't find time to pray, I told her. I don't feel that deep thirst for it like you told me I would; I feel like I'm doing it wrong. She explained to me that all those times during the day when I feel like I'm just talking to myself or "decompressing," as I call it, can actually be considered as prayer. It seems so obvious now, but I had never thought about it like that. If I have made a conscious decision to recognize God as a constant presence in my life, one who is with me always and is even a part of me, then how can dialogue with myself not be dialogue with God? It's such a simple concept, yet it is one that has taken a lot of work and reflection to understand. I just feel fortunate to have begun to understand it at all.
The final occurrence in my quest for a deepening of faith has been to start reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I would highly recommend this book to anyone, if only because she has such a wonderful, conversational writing style that draws one into the story. She also has such a unique perspective on spirituality; she has a hugely open mind, with such a deep yearning for God that she will attempt any avenue that might bring her closer into His presence. I am about halfway through and am realy enjoying her insights. I think she would agree with my spiritual director about my issues with prayer, although she tends more towards Eastern practices of devotion.
In other news, I ran my first race today, a 5K in Maryland with my oldest brother and his girlfriend. It was a good showing all around and though we didn't win any fabulous prizes, we three were highly satisfied with our times. I am keeping up with my training for the 10-miler next month and it looks like I will achieve my goal (not fainting until after I cross the finish line). Tomorrow I head down to see my other brother to complete my '08 Sibling Tour. I will be heading back to Philly tomorrow night, refreshed and ready for a new week!
I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!!
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Current Events
In my attempt to improve my updating, I may be overachieving by posting two days in a row, but perhaps this will give certain people something to do besides remind me that it's been a while since I posted.
A lot, actually, has already happened in April. I have continued my correspondence with one of the friars at the Mountain, and am planning a trip up there for the last week in April. I want to know more about what would be expected from me, and I would like to start to get to know the people I would be working with besides the friars. It's difficult for me to understand exactly what I would be doing, and no one has been able to give me a straight answer thus far, so hopefully this trip will be useful to everyone involved. I am planning to go away next weekend, as well, to Baltimore to see my brothers and run with Andy and Bridget in a 5K. Then, my mom and I will be going on vacation the first week in June.
It's overwhelming to think about all the things that need to happen in these last few months we have left in Philly. We are also planning another party for the kids, as well as a trip with them and their parents to Six Flags in New Jersey. There is Volunteer Appreciation Day at the end of April, and the annual Inn Block Party at the end of June. Oh yes, and in between those things we are planning to plant a garden and continue in our attempt to have each team member over to our house for dinner. Finally, there will be our closing retreat, which I can't talk or think about without becoming very upset. I don't know where the year went.
On Monday, like all first Mondays of the month, we cleaned the Inn. Well, I was on pickups, so I was not involved in the cleaning, but the Inn was cleaned. Since all day is spent cleaning and doing various other jobs, there isn't time to prepare a hot meal so we hand out bag lunches and usually whole desserts or something of that nature, if we have them. A local school makes hundreds of bagged lunches and sends them over. Often, the kids make up the bags themselves, so there is sometimes a cute little note in the bag, along with the sandwich, fruit, and dessert. The notes range from "Enjoy your lunch!" to "Happy (insert upcoming holiday here)!" to indecipherable drawings.
I can't describe to you how much support we receive from all over (and I know I probably have tried to describe it multiple times before, but humor me here). If it were not for these incredibly generous organizations, we would not be able to provide for our guests. Every role is so important here, from the benefactors that send $20 checks whenever they have the money, to people who drop off leftovers from parties, to people who collect toiletries from the scads of hotels they visit every year, to the meat-packing company that donates cases of meat every week, to the guys who come in Wednesday nights to run the dishwasher. The Inn is not just a single buidling, it is a network of people who all care about the well-being other people.
I digressed, as I tend to do, but we shall return to Monday. Michael and I were placed in the yard-him handing out tickets and me doing the line-up, although it was more like directing traffic, since it was being handed out the same way we do breakfasts. I was slurping coffee, since I had been so tired that I fell asleep on Katelyn's floor shortly after planning Mass music for that evening. Michael teased me later for standing like a zombie clutching my coffee mug and barely moving, which was probably pretty accurate. The crowd dispersed about a half hour into the meal, and I finished my coffee and began to more closely resemble a human being. That's when they walked into the yard. Well, he walked and, with some difficulty, supported her as she swayed and stumbled; she leaned on him as on a wall. Once inside, he sat her down with her back up against the fence. Karen went over to see what was wrong with her and determine what needed to be done. I can't exactly remember the color of her clothes, but I don't know that I will ever forget how she looked. She was wearing a low-neck top that barely covered below her ribcage. Her white stomach drooped over the waist of her jeans, and there was a dark line of hair below her belly button. Her clothes were barely on her body, so it was practically indecent to look at her. She had makeup on, and earrings, but in her state it made her look almost like a little girl playing dress-up. She had dark, shoulder-length hair. Her face was young and thin, but the rest of her reminded me of an overgrown garden; she looked like she had just stopped caring.
Karen had gone inside to make the 911 call, the guy she had been with disappeared, and the crowd that had gathered around her found other entertainment. She was having trouble staying up, so I knelt next to her to keep her upright and held her head so she could keep breathing easily. She came in and out of consciousness, sometimes responding to her name (someone told me it was Dawn) and asking who I was and passing out again before I could answer. Some guys from the Last Stop came over to try and be helpful and give advice, but sooner or later everyone left us. I had someone get her a blanket so she could be covered, and the guy she had been with resurfaced to give me a bag of her stuff. The firemen responded first, and one of them tried to explain to me how he knew she was a heroin addict. I nodded as though I was listening; the truth is, I don't want to be able to look at someone and know for sure what their drug of choice is. I would rather stay naive.
Dawn was taken to the hospital, and I haven't heard anymore about her since Monday. She came to long enough for the medics and police to get her name and age (27). I haven't really felt sad about her situation, just numb. I hope she's ok and I have been praying for her, but I have a feeling this wasn't her first trip to the ER and it won't be the last.
A lot, actually, has already happened in April. I have continued my correspondence with one of the friars at the Mountain, and am planning a trip up there for the last week in April. I want to know more about what would be expected from me, and I would like to start to get to know the people I would be working with besides the friars. It's difficult for me to understand exactly what I would be doing, and no one has been able to give me a straight answer thus far, so hopefully this trip will be useful to everyone involved. I am planning to go away next weekend, as well, to Baltimore to see my brothers and run with Andy and Bridget in a 5K. Then, my mom and I will be going on vacation the first week in June.
It's overwhelming to think about all the things that need to happen in these last few months we have left in Philly. We are also planning another party for the kids, as well as a trip with them and their parents to Six Flags in New Jersey. There is Volunteer Appreciation Day at the end of April, and the annual Inn Block Party at the end of June. Oh yes, and in between those things we are planning to plant a garden and continue in our attempt to have each team member over to our house for dinner. Finally, there will be our closing retreat, which I can't talk or think about without becoming very upset. I don't know where the year went.
On Monday, like all first Mondays of the month, we cleaned the Inn. Well, I was on pickups, so I was not involved in the cleaning, but the Inn was cleaned. Since all day is spent cleaning and doing various other jobs, there isn't time to prepare a hot meal so we hand out bag lunches and usually whole desserts or something of that nature, if we have them. A local school makes hundreds of bagged lunches and sends them over. Often, the kids make up the bags themselves, so there is sometimes a cute little note in the bag, along with the sandwich, fruit, and dessert. The notes range from "Enjoy your lunch!" to "Happy (insert upcoming holiday here)!" to indecipherable drawings.
I can't describe to you how much support we receive from all over (and I know I probably have tried to describe it multiple times before, but humor me here). If it were not for these incredibly generous organizations, we would not be able to provide for our guests. Every role is so important here, from the benefactors that send $20 checks whenever they have the money, to people who drop off leftovers from parties, to people who collect toiletries from the scads of hotels they visit every year, to the meat-packing company that donates cases of meat every week, to the guys who come in Wednesday nights to run the dishwasher. The Inn is not just a single buidling, it is a network of people who all care about the well-being other people.
I digressed, as I tend to do, but we shall return to Monday. Michael and I were placed in the yard-him handing out tickets and me doing the line-up, although it was more like directing traffic, since it was being handed out the same way we do breakfasts. I was slurping coffee, since I had been so tired that I fell asleep on Katelyn's floor shortly after planning Mass music for that evening. Michael teased me later for standing like a zombie clutching my coffee mug and barely moving, which was probably pretty accurate. The crowd dispersed about a half hour into the meal, and I finished my coffee and began to more closely resemble a human being. That's when they walked into the yard. Well, he walked and, with some difficulty, supported her as she swayed and stumbled; she leaned on him as on a wall. Once inside, he sat her down with her back up against the fence. Karen went over to see what was wrong with her and determine what needed to be done. I can't exactly remember the color of her clothes, but I don't know that I will ever forget how she looked. She was wearing a low-neck top that barely covered below her ribcage. Her white stomach drooped over the waist of her jeans, and there was a dark line of hair below her belly button. Her clothes were barely on her body, so it was practically indecent to look at her. She had makeup on, and earrings, but in her state it made her look almost like a little girl playing dress-up. She had dark, shoulder-length hair. Her face was young and thin, but the rest of her reminded me of an overgrown garden; she looked like she had just stopped caring.
Karen had gone inside to make the 911 call, the guy she had been with disappeared, and the crowd that had gathered around her found other entertainment. She was having trouble staying up, so I knelt next to her to keep her upright and held her head so she could keep breathing easily. She came in and out of consciousness, sometimes responding to her name (someone told me it was Dawn) and asking who I was and passing out again before I could answer. Some guys from the Last Stop came over to try and be helpful and give advice, but sooner or later everyone left us. I had someone get her a blanket so she could be covered, and the guy she had been with resurfaced to give me a bag of her stuff. The firemen responded first, and one of them tried to explain to me how he knew she was a heroin addict. I nodded as though I was listening; the truth is, I don't want to be able to look at someone and know for sure what their drug of choice is. I would rather stay naive.
Dawn was taken to the hospital, and I haven't heard anymore about her since Monday. She came to long enough for the medics and police to get her name and age (27). I haven't really felt sad about her situation, just numb. I hope she's ok and I have been praying for her, but I have a feeling this wasn't her first trip to the ER and it won't be the last.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Beware the Ides of March
Now that I am averaging once a month updates, I will attempt to reduce March to a brief summary. It was a month of transition; I came out of the difficulties and painfulness only to be greeted by a whirlwind of activity and change. My parents visited, and seeing them did me an enormous amount of good. There's something about surrounding yourself with people who know the real you that can be so comforting and liberating, and this was no different. We went to the world-reknowned Philadelphia Flower Show; we went to a restaurant that had an incredible beer selection, and pretty great food; Maureen and my parents finally met after hearing so much about each other. My only regret is that we did not spend as much time together as I would have liked-another event came up that same weekend that some of the Inn staff were expected to go to, so I missed out on some quality time. The same day they left, we departed as well for our spring retreat.
Retreat was not quite the panacea I was hoping for it to be. I was expecting instant peace the minute we reached Mt. Irenaeus, since I had been having such a hard time finding it in Philly. Instead I was disappointed in that things-don't-always-turn-out-the-way-you-expect sort of way. I did manage to catch up on desperately needed sleep, which meant a sacrifice of prayer and personal reflection time. While I was there, though, I found out about an incredible opporunity for the year following my departure from Philly. The friars at the Mountain (http://www.mounti.com) are looking for interns for the upcoming school year to join in their life and ministry. I could live at the Mountain and work with students at St. Bonaventure University, as well as take some classes. At first I was hesitant, as I am about most ideas new and different that would turn my life topsy turvy, but I have gotten really excited about this as a possibility. The only drawback, I think, is that it would be another year even further removed from friends and family. The place is truly in the middle of nowhere. I still have to give this some more thought and prayer, but it seems to be the best option I have stumbled upon for next year.
In other news, our number of visitors has increased. Casey finally got a chance to visit, and it was great to see him and have him experience the Inn, which he has been hearing so much about for so long. Katelyn has been having a few visitors, including her aunt and uncle and a friend from college. It's been fun sharing our lives with them!
I made it home for about 56 hours during the few days before Easter. It was everything retreat was not for me. I relaxed and spent real quality time with my family. I even did absolutely nothing for a little while, and didn't feel in the least bit guilty. I felt more "me" than I had in a while. It was so good for me, and I was very reluctant to leave. It was also one of the first times I've ever felt like a visitor in my own house. My room was the same as I left it, with piles of my stuff everywhere; nothing had changed. It must have been the fact that I had been away for so long that it didn't feel like returning home. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, since it is just another indicator of the fact that I am growing up and starting a life that is taking me away from home base. I was sad to miss out on the Holy Week liturgies, but it was worth it to be able to sleep in my own bed for a couple of nights. I was back to Philly in time for Easter Vigil and to help plan the Easter morning prayer service. Our numbers of guests were higher towards the end of March, but Easter morning was the most crowded I have ever seen the Inn. The final number was 483 people. The yard overflowed onto the sidewalk. Families came from far and wide to get Easter baskets for their kids. The senior line was roughly a mile long. Maureen was lining people up and did an excellent job of keeping her cool. I would probably have cried about halfway through had it been me, considering we were still seating people at 1:30, even though we stopped handing out tickets at 1 pm.
Updates on more recent events shall be posted soon; hopefully this will tide you over until I get around to them. Part of the setback in March was my lack of a computer. The power cord to my laptop decided to cease functioning, leaving me with a dead battery and a very full e-mail inbox. It will soon be time for a new laptop, since mine continues to send me threatening messages along the lines of "The end is near." I am trying to save my pennies so I can have a new one when I return to the world of attending classes, so if anyone has any advice about good brands or important features, I would be happy to receive it! My computer knowledge is only slightly more extensive than my knowledge of professional sports which, as those of you who know me already realize, is practically nil.
I hope all is well with you, wherever you may be!
Retreat was not quite the panacea I was hoping for it to be. I was expecting instant peace the minute we reached Mt. Irenaeus, since I had been having such a hard time finding it in Philly. Instead I was disappointed in that things-don't-always-turn-out-the-way-you-expect sort of way. I did manage to catch up on desperately needed sleep, which meant a sacrifice of prayer and personal reflection time. While I was there, though, I found out about an incredible opporunity for the year following my departure from Philly. The friars at the Mountain (http://www.mounti.com) are looking for interns for the upcoming school year to join in their life and ministry. I could live at the Mountain and work with students at St. Bonaventure University, as well as take some classes. At first I was hesitant, as I am about most ideas new and different that would turn my life topsy turvy, but I have gotten really excited about this as a possibility. The only drawback, I think, is that it would be another year even further removed from friends and family. The place is truly in the middle of nowhere. I still have to give this some more thought and prayer, but it seems to be the best option I have stumbled upon for next year.
In other news, our number of visitors has increased. Casey finally got a chance to visit, and it was great to see him and have him experience the Inn, which he has been hearing so much about for so long. Katelyn has been having a few visitors, including her aunt and uncle and a friend from college. It's been fun sharing our lives with them!
I made it home for about 56 hours during the few days before Easter. It was everything retreat was not for me. I relaxed and spent real quality time with my family. I even did absolutely nothing for a little while, and didn't feel in the least bit guilty. I felt more "me" than I had in a while. It was so good for me, and I was very reluctant to leave. It was also one of the first times I've ever felt like a visitor in my own house. My room was the same as I left it, with piles of my stuff everywhere; nothing had changed. It must have been the fact that I had been away for so long that it didn't feel like returning home. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, since it is just another indicator of the fact that I am growing up and starting a life that is taking me away from home base. I was sad to miss out on the Holy Week liturgies, but it was worth it to be able to sleep in my own bed for a couple of nights. I was back to Philly in time for Easter Vigil and to help plan the Easter morning prayer service. Our numbers of guests were higher towards the end of March, but Easter morning was the most crowded I have ever seen the Inn. The final number was 483 people. The yard overflowed onto the sidewalk. Families came from far and wide to get Easter baskets for their kids. The senior line was roughly a mile long. Maureen was lining people up and did an excellent job of keeping her cool. I would probably have cried about halfway through had it been me, considering we were still seating people at 1:30, even though we stopped handing out tickets at 1 pm.
Updates on more recent events shall be posted soon; hopefully this will tide you over until I get around to them. Part of the setback in March was my lack of a computer. The power cord to my laptop decided to cease functioning, leaving me with a dead battery and a very full e-mail inbox. It will soon be time for a new laptop, since mine continues to send me threatening messages along the lines of "The end is near." I am trying to save my pennies so I can have a new one when I return to the world of attending classes, so if anyone has any advice about good brands or important features, I would be happy to receive it! My computer knowledge is only slightly more extensive than my knowledge of professional sports which, as those of you who know me already realize, is practically nil.
I hope all is well with you, wherever you may be!
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