Staring with mid-Lent (about the time I broke my arm) I seem to have been unable to focus for any length of time on much. So many distractions, large and small, have come to me in a sort of weird parade. But a major attention-getter has been the leaving of my Pastor and boss, Fr. Stan, and our Associate, Fr. Roger. Stan has been at the church for 25 years; Roger for over 4 years. It’s been 12 for me.
If ever there was a time when I felt a chapter of my life was over and done, it was when Stan’s car drove down the driveway, turned and drove off. Early Monday morning, he had loaded up the last of his belongings, turned in his keys, and gave me a final nod.
After 12 years of his leadership, mentoring, and what developed into a close friendship, being a catalyst and guide during a time of changing for me, I knew his transfer was inevitable and for a year I knew that this would be the day. But when his car disappeared I felt an incredibly unsubtle “THUD.”
When I came to this job, my “faith-flame” was definitely a low flicker. Cynical about organized religion and dulled by unhealthy habits, “Spirituality” and me kept a respectful distance. Stan was a good boss, and I enjoyed his extrovert, irreverent humor, but I also noticed how sincere he was about his own faith, and how he quietly made it a part of his everyday life.
After my heart surgery, it seemed imperative that I start exploring the “God questions” I had blown off for years, and Stan became an informal mentor, and over early morning coffee we shared many laughing jags over the ironies of this life and the silliness of the appointed “jackasses” of formal religion. I played at the funeral of both his father and brother, and he travelled all the way to Michigan to preside at Mother’s funeral. Over 12 years people become close.
Both Stan and our associate Roger have been reassigned, so we are starting over with a clean break. This last week I have been watching the lousy weather from my hideaway, exploring the most powerful force in my life---- inertia (the state of a body at rest!)
I plan to use July to reset my routine, throw away a bunch of clutter, finish the music pieces I’ve been sketching, and reevaluate my God-questions, and open the next chapter.
Just yesterday I picked up the book I’ve been reading, “Eternal Echoes” by John O’Donohue, and opened it to a random page and read:
“To be born is an incredible event, a great disturbance… It is interesting that your first moment of experience is a moment of disturbance. The rhythm of this moment prefigures the subsequent rhythm of your life: parting and coming together. There can be no union without separation, no return without parting. No belonging is permanent. To live a creative and truthful life, it is vital to learn the art of being separate and the generosity of uniting.”
For these past 12 years I’ve been incredibly lucky, which is another way to say “blessed.” The losses I have incurred remind me how tough other people have it. And watching my arm bones come back together, tells me we are resilient, as individuals and, hopefully, as a species. Here's a great quote I came across this week:
“Bones heal and chicks like scars.”---(Evel Knevel)
(Now, aren't you sorry you asked?)
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