Getting Some Answers, Sort Of

June 18, Pacific City, OR -- Today I was thinking about my dad. It would have been his 86th birthday. It was always very close to Father’s Day or often even ON Father’s Day. I miss my dad, and I miss Mom. I’ve been past the state park where we scattered their ashes three times in the past couple weeks. Although I can’t stop because the Mo (or Momo as Kristin prefers -- or Kristin, how about Mommomo?) doesn’t fit and there is no turnaround, I always think of them and say hello, even though I know they aren’t there. On the way down I stopped briefly in Cannon Beach -- Mom’s favorite place -- but the bakery was gone -- no Haystack bread.

It was beautiful in Pacific City today. Of course; it’s Monday! Is this beginning to sound like a broken record? It does to me. This is an interesting place -- closest I’ve been to actually camping. The sites are quite private, separated by salal and rhododendrons and firs. In fact, last night and tonight I actually made a small campfire. No marshmallows to toast but a cozy little fire with all the crackling and popping. Tonight as I sat there with twilight drifting into a deeper shade of night, the birds were twittering softly. I wonder if they are saying their goodnights to each other in bird?

There are actually rabbits here, too, but none in the loop Charlie and I are in. There is also a section with horse corrals for people who want to bring their horses to the beach. Interesting. This is a Thousand Trails facility. I went to my sales presentation this morning. It started at 10 and I didn’t leave till after 2. Guess that’s what happens when you’re starved for conversation. Actually, I just had a lot of questions, not only about the program but about RVing in general. The guy who was my salesman was interesting and patient and a nice guy. It is a good program so I bought, assuming my house is going to sell soon.

Speaking of the house, there were some issues with the siding and I won’t know for sure until tomorrow what the buyer wants to do. Regardless I’ll probably have to spend some money to fix or replace the siding; it will always be an issue for a potential buyer. I’m trying to just not worry about it and assume that whatever happens is what God wants to have happen. If it sells, that just confirms my decision. If it doesn’t sell, maybe that tells me I either shouldn’t be doing this or should hold onto the house for some reason; perhaps to return to the parish. Trying to be patient, but it’s so hard. I just want it sold so (a) that’s one thing less to worry about and (b) I have a little cash to take care of some things like new tires for the Mo, to pay off the mortgage, other debts and pay down the Mo. Little things that will make my life a little less stressful.

The buyer wanted a copy of the blueprints and I had those around but Dang! They now seem to be missing. I know I set them aside. I have no clue what happened to them but at this point can only assume they got tossed by the people who did the sale. More and more I am regretting going through with that. Kristin, you can say “I told you so!” if you want. It’s kind of silly of me: I go to bazaars or things like that and see something I like, but I don’t buy it because I know I can do the same thing myself. Heck, I could have done what they did. Sure it would have taken time and been difficult, but I would probably have made more money in the long run. But it’s done and I can’t unring that bell. However, if I COULD go back in time . . . there’s alot I would do; this sale would be one of the last things I’d worry about changing.

So, after being in a deep slump for several days (maybe it was the cloudy, misty weather at the coast?), on my last night in Long Beach I picked up a book I had bought the week before while in Lincoln City. I was getting groceries and there just happened to be a bookstore, and since I’m looking for a couple of books, one on prayer and one on St. John of the Cross, I went in and browsed through their spirituality books. Didn’t find the two I was looking for but found two others. The one I picked up Sunday night was by Sue Monk Kidd (The Secret Life of Bees, The Mermaid’s Chair, both of which I’ve read and enjoyed and recommend): When the Heart Waits. I highly recommend it just based on the first couple chapters.

She writes about the “pilgrimage” of middle age that leads us to seek our true selves, to grow and become that which God intended us to be. John of the Cross talked about this process, as well as other mystics and as did Thomas Merton: the contemplative journey of going into the depths of ourselves to find our true self. She writes: When the fullness of time comes, a sacred voice at the heart of us cries out, shaking the old foundation. It draws us into a turbulence that forces us to confront our deepest issues. It’s as if some inner divine grace seeks our growth and becoming and will plunge us, if need be, into a cauldron that seethes with questions and voices we would just as soon not hear.” Wow! She’s got my number!! Apparently Carl Jung addressed this journey in his work, saying that “every midlife crisis is a spiritual crisis.” He called this life phase the afternoon, a time for adapting to the inner world by developing the full and true self, a more real, more Christ-like self. He compared the transition between these two phases (morning and afternoon) to a difficult birth. (So, I’m in the process of a difficult pregnancy: just bring me ice cream!)

That night (or more likely the next morning) I had a dream in which a very good long-time friend who moved to Mexico and with whom I’ve lost contact, despite attempts to find out what is happening with her, showed up in my life again and as we were walking and talking she showed me my grave, just a shallow little grave on the side of the path. No marker, nothing but soil heaped up over it. I don’t remember what she said, but I do remember my shock that I had a grave because I didn’t think I had died.

Monk says waiting is critical to the process and I know this is true. Even though I also know how hard waiting is. So I guess that’s what’s happening to me. I’m still waiting. I’m just waiting in a more fluid way right now, a more pilgrim way. I have physically left behind my old self in many ways; now I just have to continue that process on a deeper level and replace that old self, that old life of masks and being the person I think others expect and want me to be, with one that is true. Time to tell the Duchess and the wounded little orphan girl goodbye and good riddance. I knew when I started on this process that this was what I was embarking on; taking time to read and pray, seek and grow. I just haven’t done the things I meant to do. It’s so easy to get distracted, even when you have made a conscious effort to clear the distractions away. I keep thinking once (fill-in-the-blank) is done I’ll be able to focus. Well, there’s probably always going to be something that will keep me from doing the hard work that needs to be done.

But the bottom line is, after begging God to help me understand why I have done this, God answered, in less than 24 hours. That didn’t require too much waiting. So, back to the books, girl! Back to prayer, silence, focusing, listening, being open. There isn’t really a “how to” for this process and it’s not something that will probably ever be completely done. It is an ongoing process that doesn’t end until death. But as Mary Poppins said: Well begun is half done.

TravelinLady