Churches

It's saturday again, and that means I get to wander further from campus. Today I wandered all the way down town in John Ackerman's truck.  And I saw for the first time just how big this city is, and how big this country is. It made me pensive. John had a refreshing view on Haiti, one that is hard to live by and does not allow for first world do-gooder glamorizing. I put that out there to give you a context for the following post.

 As I sat down to write this I realized my inspiration to write does not come in my darker moments when I'm ready to crawl into a hole and stay there, but in those moments when I see things that I want to share - cool things, fun things. 

But that's not where my heart has truly been at these last few days. It's been rough. And in many ways, it hasn't been rough in ways I expected. 

My apartment is clean and cool. I have a cleaning lady and a laundry lady. I've been able to eat fairly well. What has been rocking my world lately is my lack of a home. Or, to put the problem in another light, I have too many homes. Where is my home? What is my normal? I find that I have too many places that I miss. It's stopping me from engaging in this, this one-more-stop-on-the-road. This week has been hard. I've had to push myself to engage with student, with staff.  I tell myself that this uncomfortableness is temporary, that soon I will feel at home. But I know that this is as unstable a place as any other. And for the first time, I find myself surrounded by people who think like me, and yet are different. There are people here I can learn from, and people I can teach. And somehow this is overwhelming. In every move you are asked to let go of the past. What I struggle with is the fear of letting go of the past and not having a future to fill it with. 

How do I explain this week? I've been missing places. Bokrijk. Plankendaele. Leuven. Nyack. New York. Nanuet. 9w. Bear Mountain. Carnforth. Capernwray. Mersey Side. Oxford. Paris. Oostende. Hastings. 

I've been missing things I didn't do. Hike Bear Mountain.  Go adventuring through the North York Moors. Keep my Guitar. Take acting classes. Stay in basketball.

It's a swirling mess inside my head. 

'to understand me, you'll have to swallow a world' Salman Rushdie said, 

And I think it's true. You'd have to swallow multiple worlds to know me.

but that's not really the heart of the matter. 

I have so many worlds in me, so much information that I've stored away. Why is that? I wondered - 

I used each world I knew to mask the insecurities, the fears, the terror at times of being un-moored in the world. I wonder what security must feel like.  But I've been called into a new life. I must now believe that I am enough. I don't need my worlds to do what I was created to do. This truth is world-changing (pun intended) and it leaves me wondering what I really think or feel about anything. 

I saw the PaP cathedral today, what was left standing of it. I had goosebumps. It was so much more than what I'm going to make of it in this next paragraph, but for today I took this away from it:

St. Maarten's kerk, Zaventem

I've always been drawn to cathedrals. 

 Stone walls built to hold sacred time have always quieted me in a way.

Nyack Episcopal Church. NY.

Capernwray Chapel, U.K.

 In all the places I've lived, churches have drawn me in - just to sit and pray. 

When I think of my faith, I often think of Notre Dame in Paris and the rose window. 

Saint Chapelle. Paris.

Notre Dame. Paris.

Seeing the cathedral in ruins made me think of my own life. Sickness, moves, my own choices. These last few years have broken many things in my life. 

Port-Au-Prince

Port au Prince

I realized that unless I admit to myself daily that I am like that cathedral, I will never be rebuilt. 

I am broken. I can't fix me.

and then I find this.

And this:

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.” Hemingway.

So the week has been hard. But I'm not out for the count. I'm in pain because I'm being rebuilt. One brick at a time. The work is hard, but the goal is worth fighting for. Keep praying for me. I need it. It's working.

So, my apologies for a post all about me. I promise to post more about the school and my students in the future. After I grade their beowulf tests :-)

Love you all!