Chartres Cathedral, France, a night view from our hotel Windows |
In May, I rearranged my home to accommodate one with occasional guests, booked a trip to Europe to heal and do three things I really had wanted to do for a long time, which now was free to do unencumbered by worry about what was happening at home.
I attended an Institute of Cultural Affairs archives sojourn in Chicago. I was about worthless to help in the work because of my waning eyesight, but enjoyed the collegiality of folks I had known my entire adult life, worked with, and now travelled to the basement of our history, encountering the archival treasures still untouched there, and back into the new Greenrise edge of the ICA's work in the world today.
I visited my son, in Germany, who is in the Army. He was on leave during the last two weeks in September. We went to a pumpkin festival at a magnificent castle. We trekked to Weisenfels to explore our German heritage. We walked around Ansbach. We drove to Birkenstock and stocked up on shoes. Most of all we got to know each other as the human beings we really are.
Then we headed for France. First we went to Burgundy, to Taize for a Sunday Eucharist with 600 singing the mass followed by a drive through the countryside where we ran into a horse show.
Then on to Paris for a cruise on the Seine and a a hop on hop off tour of the city. Our kaleidoscopic encounter with Paris after a lifetime of learning of all these places in movies, magazines, and the news, was a reminder that we all live on one Earth after all.
Chartres may have been the high point of our tour together. The Cathedral was full of mystery and history and I suspect we took it all in, including a climb to the top of the bell tower (by my son) and a guided tour of the catacombs which took us back to the year 1000. AND I got to stand at the center of the dromenon made famous by Jean Houston's work.
Our final day together, we spent at the Louvre in Paris. Again, I am pretty sure we didn't miss much. I was exhausted as proof of a full and art filled day. We parted ways then.
My son went back to Germany and I went on to Southern France, to Plum Village for a two week Buddhist retreat - a final opportunity to reflect and make new decisions about the trauma of the first five months of this year. By this process I felt joy and peace and acceptance of my journey to Self.
Finally back in Germany, we did as little as possible for my son's 50th birthday (per his request). We did some Christmas ornament shopping at Rothenburg outlet, and on the final day drove to Stuttgart to head home to Crescent City.
The whole 38 days was rich and full of love and adventurous encounters.
Healing was complete and wholly purifying
. (I almost forgot to add two healing visits where I felt really cared for - one to Venice, FL to spend a few days with old time ICA colleagues; the other in Burlington, VT to celebrate a dear Psychosynthesis colleague's 65th and retirement.)
(The first annual Scarecrow Festival was a huge success - the planning group met in my living room even while I was gone.)
(My niece, her husband and two sons came for Thanksgiving. Christmas is promising to be filled with good tidings and family gathering. Does it get any better?)
I am grateful for the journey, too, Maya Angelou. In every encounter, I breathe in the newness of the future I am stepping into gently and mindfully.
Returning to the turmoil of a hurricane aftermath and totally absurd election campaign, and getting sucked in on occasion to a sense of hopelessness about the future of this nation, I nevertheless find my self searching for the future building significance of it all. For my own life, this year, this has been the situation, with a heart breaking ending and resolute new beginning. For this nation, I have glimpses of the final blessing innately present in false allegations of epic psychotic proportions.
If my life since my return to Crescent City is any indication of an inviting future, then it can happen in this nation. As has been the case all this year, whatever the situation, I have learn ed to accept it as gift of exactly the stuff needed for creating a new and beautiful art form of life as it really is.
Many have experienced this year as being one of radical change accompanied by a dread assault on routine and secure patterns. Have you experienced it - other than the campaign fiasco this year?
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