Wednesday, September 20, 2006

The Latitude of Lassitude

After four busy, productive days serving the other of my two churches, I am home again on Cottontail Acres and relishing the opportunity to just BE, rather than DO. I was supposed to go into Seattle today for an RCE meeting and decided that, though I love to see those colleagues and spend time discussing our efforts to secure marriage rights for sexual minorities, they could do without me today, because I couldn't do without myself.

It's a cool, rainy morning; the leaves are beginning to drift down from the trees and the joy of a full day to be alone and leisurely has resulted in a lassitudinous latitude in my being. I am weary today and deliciously so. I don't need to sleep; I need to move slowly, walk in a rainy forest, pet the cats, cook soup, read a book for enjoyment, think, write, rest.

I hear geese in the distance, announcing their presence. Last night I heard the coyotes. These days I can't imagine why I ever wanted to work fulltime OR live in Seattle. I can't imagine ever living in a large city again, with its noisy bustle. I am so thankful that I don't have to work fulltime; I don't have to live in the city. I can see, everyday, the water of the Strait reaching west to the sea, bringing a peaceful, healing warmth to envelop my heart.


Berrysmom said...

I'm jealous.

LinguistFriend said...

Well, it sounds bucolic, and therapeutic, as if the preceding period had been a strain. My ex's family had a wonderful place in Maine that I miss since the divorce, where one would wake up in the morning to realize from the animal tracks that a bear had been up on the porch in the night. One of the most restful times in my life was the month that I spent there reading through Metzger's and Colwell's collected papers about NT textual criticism, after defending my doctoral dissertation, which is a psychologically harrowing time for most people.
The thing is that you can refocus on your own responses and plans for a while, I suspect, without which participation in something such as political or gay marriage issues is a purely formal activity. I suspect that the proportion that brain metabolism constitutes of total body metabolism is greater now than when you are busy with other people's projects. Hmm. Hard to measure, perhaps (a PET scan would do it, I think).

ms. kitty said...

I like very much being busy. I plan my time at the other church (a 4 day weekend once a month) to be packed full of time with congregants. There's little to do on that small island in the way of shopping or hiking or goofing off and few opportunities to be truly alone.

So, after having tried it the other way (letting things develop and finding that it didn't result in meaningful contact with congregants), I decided to schedule most of my time into congregation-related activity: a worship committee meeting, a grief support group, an adult religious education class, suppers with congregants, a church service, visitation at homes or the assisted living facility, a koffee klatch and lunch bunch and a board meeting.

All this takes me through Monday night. Tuesday morning I get up early and hit the 7:30 ferry to go home. I'm in my own house by noon and face the catch-up process.

Yes, it's a strain, LinguistFriend, and I appreciate your putting words to it. Yet it's a strain I willingly take on once a month.

Refocusing on myself for awhile "knits up the ravelled sleeve". As an extrovert, I'm happy to be with people, but I need plenty of solitude to balance being out there so much. I think ministry has moved me much more toward introversion than I've ever been.