January 30, 2016: No Independent Travelling for my Head and Heart...

I was lying in bed this morning, thinking about my time here at Chez Daisy.  Now, I am at my computer, still "full" both physically and spiritually from the dinner I had last night.  Daisy invited me to have dinner with her and her husband Karl's family who had come for an evening visit.  There were 7: a sister, a cousin, and their spouses, Daisy and Karl, and me.  Daisy had been cooking since Wednesday, with the results being a delicious shrimp and vegetable dish, some sort of stuffed meat, and some tomatoes that were stuffed with meatballs and other goodies.  She knocked on my door and said, "Would you like to come to dinner?  You can eat Philippine and see how it tastes."  It was wonderful.

  The talent with which she paints was directed toward the food and its presentation: a little dill sprig here, a splash of vegetables and color there. It was beautiful. 

I helped her put the finishing touches on the food and bring it to the table.   Then I sat and had conversation with strangers about their travels to other countries, about children and grandchildren, about literature from a Senior enrichment class, about my move.   It was delightful and delight-filled.  I feel like I met new friends - and even traded phone numbers with one couple who had many books on hikes throughout my new State of NY.  I hope to run across them again.  Enid, the wife of Karl's cousin, bolstered me, commenting on how brave I was and potential excitement and fright in my move.  And I assured her, it is both.  All of them still had a lust for adventure, and continued to feed that lust in many ways.  I was the Lucky Duck who got to listen to the stories.  It was wonderful.
 
This morning, I woke up longing for my mom. Everywhere

I look, I think I am seeing people that I know.  While my brain first flickers from what it thinks is a similarity, it is only a split second before it also tells itself - "No, that can't be so-and-so because this isn't La Crosse."  

Now, after this has happened several times, I realize that my brain is looking for those familiar faces that it hasn't seen in awhile.  And it just isn't La Crosse - I'm seeing folks from Urbana, from Kincaid, from Albuquerque.  Some part of myself is beginning to look for those familiar faces, those who have been a part of my life.  I feel an ache when I hang up the phone from a conversation with my son.  My daughter and I both are crying over the phone.  I nearly burst into tears when my new smart phone reminds me that it is time for Women's Salmanori Korean Drum Ensemble.  And recognition hits:  my brain is longing for something familiar - for something that it hasn't seen in awhile.  If it can't find the familiarity, it will create it.  Then, when I can pause long enough to become an observer rather than a participant in the new scenes and challenges I am discovering and facing,  I realize that my heart wants to be held by something or someone familiar.  My heart needs a respite. 
This timing, I am sure, is not without reason.  Today, I leave for my new apartment.  I spent last evening packing up my "one car load" of "stuff."  It is not packed as efficiently as it was for my trip from Wisconsin, but it is packed none-the-less.  My new apartment awaits me in Tarrytown.  It is so close to what I imagined my living quarters to be that it is scary.  However, those familiar, everyday things that have anchored me to this new life's shore are being left behind as I set sail and move on out to another.  

"Simple Acts are Sacred Deeds."  

The meaning of those words are discovered again and again as I leave and begin again; leave and begin again; leave and begin again.


Here's my discovery today, from this simple, sacred act of

journaling:  It is time to find a Spiritual Director who can help me tie my heart and brain in synchrony as I move forward.  Letting my brain move forward in its love for novelty and new challenges while my heart is in another place is a disservice - a lack of respect for my "Self." Setting aside sacred time to sit with someone who can witness and help bring to my consciousness what I already know is important.  It is time for - well, simply put - taking time.  I don't want either my brain or my heart to go it alone.