(no subject)
I'm realizing that I feel what I always feel in December--I'm aching for stillness and quiet. The weather, the sentiments of the church year, the wind-down of a school semester... I always feel this way, although I'm not always so exhausted. I am wishing for a retreat. The second year at l'Arche, I got to go on the Advent retreat to the Trappist abbey, and even though I was a complete wreck at the time and things were falling apart, the abbey retreat was exactly what I needed. I feel like it's what I need now as well.
Every late-fall-into-December, I start feeling like I need to slow down, I need to rest, I need to pray. I need to be quiet and still and hidden for awhile. I don't particularly want it to be alone, but it doesn't juxtapose well with Christmas parties and shopping. What I really want is to gather up a few people I love and go away to a monastery or abbey for a week. Stillness and quiet, punctuated and defined by the singing of the hours in the chapel. Armchairs and sofas to curl up in, books to read, long walks to take into the woods and back in the cold air. Candles to light and watch.
I always feel sad during Advent. Every year, it surprises me again. It's not a bad sad, something I want to get rid of. It's just melancholy, a blue tinge to my vision. Consciousness of suffering, maybe, that's closer to the surface during this thin time.
To be well, I have to be intentional during this time. Today, I am going to ride my bike in. I am going to go to Context and Ministry class. I am going to go to the gym, if my head feels okay by then, and I am going to get a bit of weight training in. I am going to turn in my book report in Old Testament. And I am going to have a nice evening--no worrying allowed.
Every late-fall-into-December, I start feeling like I need to slow down, I need to rest, I need to pray. I need to be quiet and still and hidden for awhile. I don't particularly want it to be alone, but it doesn't juxtapose well with Christmas parties and shopping. What I really want is to gather up a few people I love and go away to a monastery or abbey for a week. Stillness and quiet, punctuated and defined by the singing of the hours in the chapel. Armchairs and sofas to curl up in, books to read, long walks to take into the woods and back in the cold air. Candles to light and watch.
I always feel sad during Advent. Every year, it surprises me again. It's not a bad sad, something I want to get rid of. It's just melancholy, a blue tinge to my vision. Consciousness of suffering, maybe, that's closer to the surface during this thin time.
To be well, I have to be intentional during this time. Today, I am going to ride my bike in. I am going to go to Context and Ministry class. I am going to go to the gym, if my head feels okay by then, and I am going to get a bit of weight training in. I am going to turn in my book report in Old Testament. And I am going to have a nice evening--no worrying allowed.