I woke up this morning like I always do at Holden, listening to moving water in the creek just outside my window. I'm a "2" in the kitchen today, which means I won't put an apron on until 11:00, and so I lackadaisically linger, pondering what passing events will take me through this Wednesday. I imagine a djembe and a guitar will be part of the equation. For bus arrivals and departures most people in the village gather in front of Koinonia fireside to greet or wave goodbye. Allison - from the pool hall - and I have been toting drums outside to add to these joyful and bittersweet moments, and to our delight we've had people's hips join in, jiving along to Trinidadian rhythms. Tonight will be yet another opportunity for open mic in The Lift. All kinds of talent and non-talent take the stage, and I'll most likely be somewhere in between the two while singing Jason Mraz's I'm Yours.
I leave the village a week from yesterday, and of course it seems like my time here has been all too swift. Mais, c'est la vie - but, such is life; so why lament it? Rather than fixating on the finite finish to my follies here at Holden, I've decided to hold the intention of lending myself to presence - in conversations with people, and to all that is happening around me. I hiked to 10 Mile Falls today, stopped by no particular tree with a woodpecker tapping its beak against the bark and wondered to myself, why exactly do woodpeckers do this? Other questions I've been pondering are, why don't adults push their noses up against window panes? Is it because we become too self-conscious, or, that we're thinking about the consequential smudges we would have to clean up? And, is there a way a to differentiate between glaciers and compact snow? All insights from any of my avid readers are valued and much appreciated. And with this, I bid adieu...
17 June 2009
10 June 2009
Alas, I write once again, this time from Holden Village, Washington. It's been nearly four months since my last entry, and I've been meaning to blog ever since I've arrived - just one week and two days ago - but have been waylaid with hikes to Holden Lake and Copper Basin, climbing around avalanche chutes on all fours, keeping up with culinary responsibilities (as a volunteer in the kitchen), playing technical Forest Gump-like ping-pong matches, and making musical melodies with all kinds of proper and impromptu instruments. Last night Sybil, Kate and I sang the Dixie Chick's "Travlin' Soldier" at open mic; and we continued the hoopla today with a rhythm jam session on four gallon buckets turned upside down.
I wanted to share a bit of personal insight from a book I'm reading, Eternal Echoes by John O'Donohue. In it, he explores our yearning to belong to someone, something or somewhere - a family or community, church group, an institution, city or country for example - in relationship with other deeply set desires we may simultaneously hold within our hearts. At times our greatest longings coalesce, and at other times we are swayed in completely opposite and even head-on clashing directions. We grapple with who or what or where we are meant to belong to, and in my case, I struggle with a logic of reason and stability which is equally if not greater met by a free and spontaneous spirit of wanderlust. I feel as though O'Donohue is speaking directly about a part of me while reading:
"The wanderer is one who gives priority to the duties of longing over belonging. No abode is fixed. No one place is allowed finally to corner or claim the wanderer. A new horizon always calls. The wanderer is committed to the adventure of seeing new places and discovering new things. New possibilities are more attractive and intoxicating than the given situation. Freedom is prized highly. The wanderer experiences time and space in a different way than the native or the neighbor who remain faithful to a place. Time is short, and there is so much yet to be experienced. While each place has its own beauty, no particular place can claim to settle the longing in the wanderer's soul. Space and distance are never a barrier. Travel is the adventure. The purpose is never directed towards a specific destination. The journey itself is the ever-changing destination."
And yet, I also feel strongly pulled to enmesh and invest myself into a continuity of time and space - to become an integral and more long-term part of something bigger than these ever-evolving whimsical fairy tales. This has been a sticking point that I've been trying to reflect upon in recent days, for I'm searching out the next step in my journey of life to begin sometime in September. The question mark dangles and looms, which both amuses and frightens me. I'm trying to stay present and trust a process of discernment, but I do get carried away with distractions, dreaming up an endless plethora of possibilities. At this moment there seem to be three potential eyelets of opportunity - one in South Korea, another in Japan, and finally, a long-term staff position here at dear Holden. Time will tell; and in the meanwhile, please stay tuned in for more village stories to come...
I wanted to share a bit of personal insight from a book I'm reading, Eternal Echoes by John O'Donohue. In it, he explores our yearning to belong to someone, something or somewhere - a family or community, church group, an institution, city or country for example - in relationship with other deeply set desires we may simultaneously hold within our hearts. At times our greatest longings coalesce, and at other times we are swayed in completely opposite and even head-on clashing directions. We grapple with who or what or where we are meant to belong to, and in my case, I struggle with a logic of reason and stability which is equally if not greater met by a free and spontaneous spirit of wanderlust. I feel as though O'Donohue is speaking directly about a part of me while reading:
"The wanderer is one who gives priority to the duties of longing over belonging. No abode is fixed. No one place is allowed finally to corner or claim the wanderer. A new horizon always calls. The wanderer is committed to the adventure of seeing new places and discovering new things. New possibilities are more attractive and intoxicating than the given situation. Freedom is prized highly. The wanderer experiences time and space in a different way than the native or the neighbor who remain faithful to a place. Time is short, and there is so much yet to be experienced. While each place has its own beauty, no particular place can claim to settle the longing in the wanderer's soul. Space and distance are never a barrier. Travel is the adventure. The purpose is never directed towards a specific destination. The journey itself is the ever-changing destination."
And yet, I also feel strongly pulled to enmesh and invest myself into a continuity of time and space - to become an integral and more long-term part of something bigger than these ever-evolving whimsical fairy tales. This has been a sticking point that I've been trying to reflect upon in recent days, for I'm searching out the next step in my journey of life to begin sometime in September. The question mark dangles and looms, which both amuses and frightens me. I'm trying to stay present and trust a process of discernment, but I do get carried away with distractions, dreaming up an endless plethora of possibilities. At this moment there seem to be three potential eyelets of opportunity - one in South Korea, another in Japan, and finally, a long-term staff position here at dear Holden. Time will tell; and in the meanwhile, please stay tuned in for more village stories to come...
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