Thoughts on leaving home - and all that is familiar

I am almost ready to set out on my next adventure. I will leave this week for the midwest where I will spend the next six months living at the Visitation Monastery in North Minneapolis. I have a couple of stops to make along the way - a couple of days with my sister in Tacoma. Then a few days in Monroe with the Nuns Life Community Summit. But when I leave on Wednesday, I'll leave without any keys on my keychain! Not taking my car. Don't need keys to my house since my friends will be living there while I'm gone. Turned in my church keys to the parish office. Strange feeling to not have keys.

No rings on my fingers - those are going to live for now in the safety deposit box at the bank. My wedding ring is welded to my engagement ring and the beautiful 50th anniversary ring which marked that occasion in 2006. Seemed not appropriate. I need to travel light these days.

I told someone I feel a little like Gulliver in Lilliput Land - a thousand little golden filaments have kept me in place - and as I've moved forward, these have loosened, till only those real golden ropes of love and relationship keep me moored - and they are much longer cords that allow me to move about and explore while still keeping me grounded to who I am and who I have always been. But the little everyday threads of appointments, responsibilities, duties, roles, and unfinished business - they are almost all gone at this point. That's been the work of the last several months. I can't believe it's been three months since I returned here from Monroe and Minneapolis.

But my bags are packed, the bills are paid, the accounts are up to date, the desk is clear, and I looked at my calendar a couple of days ago. Every day for the past many months has been full of appointments. Starting with next Friday, my calendar is clear. I'm sure it'll fill up again, but I will be living on the calendar of the Visitation sisters, not on my calendar in Forks.

The sun was shining (for the first time in a long time) through my window when I woke this morning turning my Japanese maple into a glorious tapestry of green and gold. And I wondered, how can I bear to leave this? I went to St. Anne's for mass this morning. It was wonderful. So much love flowing. So much evidence of the Holy Spirit at work. I wondered, how can I bear to leave this?

The closing song was this: 

Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord? 

I have heard you calling in the night. 

I will go, Lord, if you lead me. 

I will hold your people in my heart.

And that was my answer. I must go so that I can hold all this in my heart. Because Something, Someone is calling me to a different life - for now at least.

Pray for me. It's strange to be an old person out doing what is meant for young people - figuring out what I'm supposed to be when I grow up.


(That's my old friend, Fr. Mark Stehley at the altar at St. Anne's - taken on Pentecost Sunday. Today was his last day with our parish - and his leavetaking made for a particularly loving and beautiful service.)