March - with maybe an tadbit of madnesss

March is disappearing fast. And spring has arrived - at least nominally. The past few weeks have felt quiet; mostly introspective and introvert time.

A few weeks ago Ket and I drove to the mountains in Vermont for a retreat.
5 hours in the car (each way) to think, breathe, and let the beauty of the mountains sink into me. I am truly a mountain girl - I had almost forgotten that this year. Growing up on the west coast, and spending four years in the Shenandoah valley, I should have remembered that bit about myself.  But I guess we endure where we are, forgetting what it is like to glow until we are reminded again. Being in the mountains again was a balm for my soul, a comfort I felt deep inside, and being on the ski slopes the next day brought a lightness to my spirit that I haven't felt in months. Hannah Shelly (our host and my ski buddy) joked that this was "retreaty" enough for an MVS retreat because we were finding God on the slopes - I wholeheartedly agree with that bit of banter.
Ket and I also had a day to relax, away from our computers, our work worries, and our plans for next year to read, laugh, and spend time together. It has wonderful. I read "The Red Tent" and remembered how convicted I can be by woman's lore, midwifes tales, and holistic, rhythmic approaches to living. I was also able to reflect on how thankful I am for the past 7 months with MVS and what I'm looking forward to in August when I will be setting my own course again. I came home thoughtful and refreshed.

Since getting back my life has been filled with questions of purpose, skype time with family and friends far away, and stories about demon fighting, vampires with souls, good vs. evil, and avoiding the impending apocalypse - again and again. I have been engrossed in the world of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Angel - both created by the scifi director Joss Whedon in the late 1990's - early 2000's. This isn't exactly something I am proud of, but the character development, large ethical questions, and quest for purpose that perforates these television shows has been inspiring for me. As long as I am also living away from my computer screen, I hope that Buffy and Angel are not too damaging for my psyche.

I'm still hoping for spring. We get glimpses of it every so often, so I do believe it will eventually show up - if much later than I would like. Yesterday I had to be at a re-entry conference at the local college and so I took advantage of the above freezing temperatures to walk the mile into town. It was nice to be outside (if a little chilly still) and to be apart of the city in a way that I miss when I am only driving through town to work. The 4 cars that honked at me on my walk in were also a nice wake up call to what the privilege of driving provides me.

Ashes to Ashes

A circle gathered in the semi-dark, focusing inward. Faces lit by the glow of flickering candle light, hymnals resting loosely in laps or held at awkward angels to catch the light's reflection on their white pages. Some squint to read the stanza of texts interspersed by staffs of music. Others read easily, oblivious to the privilege of their youth and unfailing eyesight.

The city outside is covered in fresh fallen snow. March has come - but in place of hope for spring it brings a continuance of winters unrelenting cold and silence. Despair continues unchecked in the lives of my clients, stories of homelessness, of hopelessness, of lost bus passes, and disappointing job searches. The world continues on its path of war - in Syria, in Ukraine. 

Together, we have gathered from our busy lives to mark a sacred, ancient season. In the darkness all surrounding, we turn towards the light. Recognizing despair, honoring mortality, together we hold out hope for a narrative of transformation. We open the season of lent - forty days of penance, of prayer, of preparation for the work of God among us: 

slowly turning, ever turning from our lovelessness like ice, 

from our unforgiving spirit, from the grip of envy's vise,

slowly turning, ever turning toward the lavish life of spring, 

toward the word of warmth and pardon, toward the mercy welcoming!

slowly turning, ever turning from our egocentered gaze,

from our self-enclosing circle, from our narrow, petty ways,

slowly turning, ever turning toward the foreigner as friend, 

toward the city without gheto, toward the greatness without end!

  slowly turning, ever turning from our fear of death and loss, 

from our terror or the darkness, from our scorning of the cross,

slowly turning, ever turning toward the true and faithful one, 

toward the light of day-break dawning, toward the phoenix risen sun!

A circle gathered in the semi-dark, sending us out into the world. Hymnals dancing for a moment in candle light as they are placed back on the shelves. Saying our goodbyes we turn towards the door with ashes on our foreheads. Bearing the mark of our mortality, I walk out into the cold - filled with hope.