Transition

It's the end of March.  I can't believe it.  It's really spring here, with pink blossoms on the trees and daffodils and dandelions everywhere.  I've been walking without my jacket for the past three days!

Last week, my sister Alyssa came to visit.  We had the most wonderful time talking, going out to eat, going shopping, watching movies, and visiting the ocean.  We also spent an afternoon at a pottery studio, which we both thoroughly enjoyed.  It was so fun to have a companion for the week - someone to just sit with, even when she was doing homework and I was reading.  It was really refreshing.

We also celebrated St. Patrick's day while Alyssa was here, and the two of us taught the sisters a very elementary Irish jig.  S. Anamaria was our most enthusiastic pupil, and she was determined to learn so she could teach her Tanzanian students.  The whole community enjoyed watching her try to move in a stiff and regulated European style instead of her very fluid and natural African way.

This week has been a pretty ordinary one, with school work, phone calls, and Lent continuing.  We've had more sunshine than usual, and last night S. Anamaria and I embarked on the adventure of making mozzarella cheese in our kitchenette!  We made a little too much noise, but by the end, I had declared her a genius cheesemaker.  We got lots of good pictures.

My lesson today is about the transitory-ness of life.  There are a few events that made me start thinking about this.  First, this afternoon, I played with one of the Knitters and Spinners' grandchildren, a four-year-old boy with lots of energy.  He declaimed the cause and effect of the drain in the fountain and also informed me that if monsters ate a leaf, we would never ever see it again.  I could almost watch him making connections about what would happen if...  It was like he was growing up before my eyes!  Also, lately S. Monika has been saying good night and adding, "See you in the morning, God willing" to the end.  I think the tsunami in Japan has made us all start thinking about how suddenly life comes and goes.  And finally, I have only two months left with the sisters here in Washington, and I'm starting to imagine what life will be like after volunteering.  Now that I'm really settled in to this way of life, it's time to uproot and start something new.  And I still have no idea what that something will be.

I spend a lot of my life planning - anticipating, getting ready, preparing.  I like to imagine how things will go and feel like I'm at least a little bit in control.  But I'm realizing, not for the first time, that things happen.  Life happens.  And it's not always how I plan or imagine.  It doesn't always go the way I think it ought to go.  And - this is the hard part - that is the wonderful thing about life.  God doesn't give us exactly what we ask for; we get what's best for us, even when we can't see that it really is better than what we wanted. 

My dear Sister Anamaria has the most comfortable philosophy about transition, which I may have quoted before: "When things change, we must adapt."  It's so simple, but it is really profound for me - I don't have to spend my time worrying about how things will change or what I should do.  I can just embrace the moment, enjoy whatever is happening.  I can make cheese at 10 pm or run around outside with a little boy for an afternoon without planning it.  I can just accept whatever comes to me, take it in, and find God in it.  And the longer I live here, the easier that is to do.

Peace and love.