It's Valentine's Day! Which means, besides celebrating love, that we are half-way through February - which also means I have only three months left in the beautiful Pacific Northwest in a pacific and loving monastic community. Where has the time gone?!
Maybe it's too soon to be asking that question, but I started thinking about it after a group of visitors this weekend asked me how long I was going to be here, and I said nine months. I then had to correct myself and say only three more months. They asked me what I have learned so far in the time I've been here, and I tried to narrow it down to the scope of a dinner conversation. What I came up with was a summary my queen-of-conciseness sister Alyssa can be proud of: I've learned how to slow down.
Now, this is a lesson I'm not a huge fan of all the time. Slowing down means taking more time to think about what I'm doing, putting meaning into little actions like stopping to say hello to someone when I pass them in the hall instead of rushing past because I'm on a very important mission - my "very important" missions here can always wait a few minutes. Nothing is so pressing that I must accomplish it NOW, this very moment. This is a feeling I am still, after five and a half months, uncomfortable with. I want to have important things to do! I am so used to having constant demands on my time, if not imposed by my work, then pressed upon me by my need to balance leisure with work. It's not that I don't work here - but the emphasis in a Benedictine community is much more on balance than on the must-get-everything-done-now life I lived in college. When I was in school, having a day to just take a walk and admire the changing light through the trees and watch the birds flit from branch to branch would have been a blessing, but one I couldn't have even enjoyed. I would have worried about what I should be doing, what I would do when I finished my walk, how things would fall into place. Now, I often have an hour or two during the day where I have no demands on my time at all. I am free to take a walk, read poetry, stare out the window, just be in the moment. It's almost like I've needed this extreme change to learn how to just breathe.
And sometimes, when I have time to breathe, I don't want to. Instead of reveling in the moment, enjoying the peace and the atmosphere of prayer and balance that surrounds me, I panic. I feel at loose ends. I get bored. And then I get lonely. It sometimes takes me a long time to remember that this time is a gift, and that I can feel free to just enjoy it. I can read 7 books in a month. I can take a nap and not feel guilty. I can spend time playing games and working on puzzles and just thinking, just dreaming. I can use those things to rejuvenate myself instead of just to relieve the pressures of working working working all the time. And then, because I have time to just be myself, I can also give my time very freely to other people who need it. When I work, I can devote myself entirely to my dear students. When I have afternoon coffee with the sisters, I can totally listen to their conversation and join in and not feel like I need to be somewhere else. When I eat meals or go to praise, I can just be there, living in the moment. I don't have to be worrying about what I'm going to do next, because it will come, and I don't have to worry about being ready for it. I'm still definitely working on this lesson.
I think I have such trouble letting go and slowing down not just because it's habit, but because being busy has always given me a feeling of purpose and meaning. If I'm busy, it means I'm doing something "very important," and that makes me feel like it's worth me getting up in the morning and going through the day with a smile on my face. But I am gradually learning - very gradually - that it is more important for me to BE in each task or activity and with each person than to DO any of the things I do in a day. If I'm not giving all my attention to a job or a person, I'm not fulfilling my purpose of doing or interacting anyway. I think I've always known that, but it's hard for me to live out because I like to know what I'm doing has a positive bearing on who I am. But what I really want is to be able to know that who I am has a positive effect on what I'm doing.
I have started to see the positive effects of this lesson when I remember to follow it. When I let myself be who I am - when I laugh or do something silly or let my emotions out or share stories about myself - I find that it doesn't matter exactly what I do or how I do it, as long as I act genuinely and honestly. The relationships that sustain me most are the ones in which I care more about who I am than what I do. I can love and be loved best when I let myself be instead of worrying about what I'm doing. My boyfriend Kevin can attest to that: when we first started talking on the phone, I would never say much because I was worried about saying something silly or bringing up something he didn't want to talk about. I was much more concerned about what and how I was "doing" the conversation than who I was "being" in the conversation. With a little encouragement and persistence from Kevin, I have been able to be myself and make our relationship much deeper and closer. Happy Valentine's Day!
But after thinking about all this, I think the most important person to be myself with is God. I've been working on not closing myself to God, like I do so often when I feel upset or vulnerable or out of control. I'm pretty good at telling God exactly what I want to make the situation better, but I'm not so good at listening to God's answers. As I learn to be myself with more people, I am also learning to be myself with God, to let God be my heavenly Valentine. I'm still learning, but it becomes easier when I slow down and stop worrying. As S. Anamaria always says, I will try.
Peace and lots of LOVE!
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