Three months...bullet points

We have lived in Paris, TX for three months.  

1.  I am in awe of the quiet, the calm. 

2.  It is a blessing to watch my small-town husband, who for 45 years worked hard at becoming citified, reconnect with his roots.  He is rediscovering long lost friends, and they are rediscovering him.  Even though I often walk away from yet another “do you remember, and whatever happened to…” conversation, I am thrilled for John.

3.  I want to work.  I don’t want to work.  I want a job.  I don’t want a job.  I want to contribute.  I don’t want to feel obligated.  I want to serve.  I don’t want to be bothered.  I want to feel productive.  I don’t want to feel bound.  I want to find my place.  I don’t want to feel pressured.  I want to think and solve problems.  I don’t want to feel responsible.  Truth be known, I want my place in Paris to find me, tap me on the shoulder, and clearly state, "this is where you belong."

4.  Much to our surprise, we have found a church home.  We joined First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) as soon as we realized that this community of welcoming, thoughtful, open-minded, devoted, accepting and sincere Christians exists in Paris. 

We find ourselves among Christians with whom we can openly voice our disbelief in the notion that God, the Father, sent his son to suffer and die so that the rest of us could be forgiven of our sins.    I can openly express my view that, much like Martin Luther King or Gandhi, Jesus was executed by folks like most of us, folks who will not tolerate the passionate, non-violent action of Love on a consistent, daily basis.  We make repeated and creative attempts to silence Love.  Jesus’ death and resurrection demonstrate that we can’t kill Love.  And that changes everything.

5.  Last summer we sold Fredericksburg peaches and veggies under the hot sun in south Austin.  This summer we are growing our own peaches and veggies.  

6.  Here’s what I know today:  Life is not predictable.  Seriously unpredictable.  Six months ago I had no inkling that Paris, TX lay just ahead.  The willingness to follow an intuition that seemed unrealistic led us here, and we are so, so grateful.

What is Love?

Sitting at my computer, next to an open window, looking out onto our rose garden, I felt Something.  Closing my eyes, hands on keyboard, I typed these answers. Then I knew the question.

Engagement

Expansion

Energy

Enlightenment

Inspiration

Graciousness

Generosity

Creativity

Integrity

Authenticity

Dignity

Whimsy

Forthrightness

Compassion

Gratitude

Hilarity

Poise

Composure

Equanimity

Wholeness

Balance

Humility

Regard

Consideration

Congruence

Trust

Optimism

Acceptance

Encouragement

Reassurance

Forgiveness

Patience

Confidence

Discernment

Openness

Honesty

Faith

Straight-forwardness

Yearnings

Have you followed dreams that appeared to lead nowhere?

Have you repressed dreams that seemed impossible?

Have you ridiculed dreams that were out of your league?

Have you mistaken fantasies for genuine dreams,

Or even substituted depression in their rightful place?

I have.

So I write this today to provide a record, a touchstone,

To refer to in the future,

To remind me that

Sometimes following the call of a yearning leads

Somewhere.

Sometimes, if we can catch a yearning in motion, and

Courageously ponder the audacity of “why not?”

We find ourselves lifted up and beyond,

Surprised by a soft landing.

Church

When I was 12 years old I arose out of the baptismal waters and was pronounced “saved.”  I was greatly relieved to know that when I died I would not be sent into eternal torment.

My twelve year old self assumed that being saved also implied that while still on earth I would be protected by some kind of spiritual golden parachute, that my commitment to Jesus would qualify me for a joyful, abundant life free, for the most part, of life’s tragedies and suffering. 

As you might imagine it wasn’t terribly long before I found myself sadly disillusioned.  The search began; the search for what is really true.  How grateful I am for that rude awakening in my early twenties.  The realization that I did not know what I thought I knew propelled me to explore thoughts and ideas, theologies foreign to me, opening my eyes and expanding my world more than I knew possible.

I left the Church of my Childhood and over the years moved through the Presbyterian Church, Unitarian, Unity, Church of Conscious Harmony and beyond.  The last several years of non-church membership have been soul nourishing and liberating, allowing my spiritual exploration free reign.

Though I still do not fully comprehend our move from Austin to Paris, clearly it is far more than a geographical shift.  It is a return to John’s geographical roots, and, surprisingly, I find myself returning to my spiritual roots in a way I would never have expected.

We once again attend church; we look forward to Sundays.  I have not returned to the Church of My Childhood, but a distant cousin.  The songs are familiar; the communion table is familiar; I feel at home.  And, the week before we began attending an openly gay couple was welcomed into the fold…in Paris, TX. 

Church attendance is no longer connected to “salvation,” but to participation in the ongoing, open discussion of what is really true.  I think we may have found Christians in Paris who are actively engaged in the search for Reality, the search for Truth.  While they remain committed to their Christian tradition they are openly respectful of all sincere paths to Truth.  Luckily for me, I already know most of the hymns.

Ramblings from Paris

For years I have thought and written about Stepping Out and its two definitions:

1.  The conscious decision to temporarily remove oneself from the drama of daily living in order to access more completely the Truth about ourselves.
2.  The conscious decision to go forth boldly.

Our move to Paris was intended to satisfy both definitions.  Where the journey will lead is still the great unknown.

Most folks our age downsize.  We, on the other hand, opted for more space --  a larger home, more land, fewer neighbors--space, space, space.  It is perhaps irrational, but I find myself glorying in all the space.  We have empty cabinets -- I can't tell you how exciting that is to me.

I have begun the process of discovering a sense of community.  I am not a good loner.  Yesterday I attended an AlAnon meeting--the only one in Paris, and was pleasantly surprised.

This Sunday we will continue our church search.  Having not attended church for many years, it is interesting to observe my reactions and responses to church "cultures."  There are more than 100 churches in Paris.  If there are any non-Christian religious groups in Paris, I've yet to be made aware of them.

I am reminded of the days when I believed God had preferences and emotions, that God blessed and punished.  With that mindset, I believed that it was possible to please or displease God, gain God's approval or disapproval, be a cause for God's rejoicing or commiseration, that my actions and attitudes would have an effect on how God feels and reacts.

With the growing knowledge that GOD IS, that all God does is "God," and that God continues "Godding," no matter what I, or you, do is a blessed relief.   God loves.

Rambling thoughts today...

Observations from Paris

My eyes and nose are partially above water.  We arrived in Paris this past Tuesday, expecting our belongings to be delivered on Wed. morning.  Didn't happen.  I do not recommend sleeping on an air mattress on a cold ceramic floor.  I'm just saying...  Van arrived Thurs. morning, and the fun began.

I have been here less than a week, and here's what I can tell you for sure.  Robyn came with me.  Yes, she did for a fact.

Is it too soon to write sentimental ballads about walking on country lanes?  Probably should wait a while.

When you turn off the highway on to the road that leads to our house, there is a rifle range on the right for target practice, and an archery range on the left.  When you come see us you will know you made the right turn when you see the sign that says, "Archers for Christ."

This morning we decided to honor the "day of rest" idea, and put on nice-ish clothes and drive to the local Christian Church.  We were looking forward to a restful, if not inspiring, worship service.  We walked in the front door and saw people walking around in matching T-shirts, rock music playing, voices over an intercom announcing raffle winners.  Wouldn't you know we'd show up for the "mission fair" celebrating the church's 10th anniversary.  We stood out like a sore thumb, which brought several friendly people to welcome us and assure us this was not the usual Sunday fare.  We soon left and went grocery shopping at Kroger's.

We have found our "home" cafe, Nancy's Cafe.  It is sooo my kind of place.  Blue plate specials every day--choice of meat, choice of three veggies, iced tea and dessert for $6.79.  Heaven.

No, I have not discovered the peace of country living as yet, but I can smell it.

Moving on...

In 1994 John and I drove away from the Longhorn Ranch Motel on a remote highway 60 miles south of Alpine, TX for the last time, vowing that as we left that beautiful, desolate place we would never live in a city again.  As sometimes happens, vows get broken.  We have lived in Austin for the past 16 years.

We re-adapted to city living very quickly, letting the peace, stillness and quiet of Terlingua fade into our memory.  Life in Austin has been good; we have no complaints.

A little more than a year ago I resigned from a highly responsible, stressful, exciting and challenging job in real estate.  I was whipped.  Since then I have recuperated, and am unwilling to resume that fast pace.  I have wondered for some time where I now belong.

The past September, John and I drove to Wisconsin, staying off interstate highways whenever possible. Something dawned on me.  I don’t like interstate highways or the cities they slice through.  I am repelled by the homogenization of American cities—they all look the same until you make your way into the “historic downtown district.” 

On the drive back to Austin, I heard myself propose to John that perhaps our life in Austin is complete; perhaps we could live in a more rural, quieter, slower -paced location.  I was shocked to hear myself say these things out loud, but not nearly so shocked as John!

Long story short, next month we will move to Paris, TX , to a home on four acres with a large pasture across the road and a 5 acre pond in our back yard.  We have succumbed to urban fatigue.

Let it be known that I could not do this without modern technology—I do not want to lose contact with my family and friends.  Thankfully, we have cellphones and high-speed Internet access…and Facebook.

I plan to continue blogging, and hope you will add your comments and voice to the discussion.  Before long we will be in the throes of adjusting to country living.  I’m counting on my friends to remind me periodically that I really, really wanted to do this.

Bullet Points the day after Thanksgiving 2011

My brilliant husband said this today (or something close to it):  a better approach to enjoying any relationship, especially marriage, would be to “let it work,” rather than to  “make it work.”  I love that!

I generally say no before I say yes. 

Today we are between Thanksgivings.  Yesterday was his family; tomorrow is my family.  And believe it or not, really, really great folks come to both!  Lucky me.

So UT and the Aggies are getting a divorce after all these years of squabbling.  I think the UT band showed us the absolute best way to bring closure to any divorce:  thank the other party from your heart, and move on.

When my 90-year-old mom decides to cross over the divide, I will lose one of the most amazing teachers I have known.  If you like anything about me, you should send her a thank you note.

Here is what’s true for me today:  I crave and fear change.  I stir things up and pray for peace.  I push when I should wait.  I wait when I should push through.  I contradict myself almost daily.  I think  Life is fascinating.