Community

This is one of my favorite songs.  It's by Alexi Murdoch, called "Orange Sky" - it's gorgeous.  I was listening to it while I walked home from school today.


I think about community a lot.  T and I are building a relationship with a neighbor couple; they own and run the consignment shop around the corner from our apartment and live on the second floor.  They have a rooftop garden and patio and are having us over for dinner this week.  We sat in the shop for 45 minutes this weekend dreaming with Klaudia, the shop owner, about a community garden for our neighborhood.  She was so energized by the idea!  I was with my Sabbath community last night for the first time in three weeks.  So rich and good is their warmth, conversation, journeying.  I missed them.  After Sabbath, T and I helped some friends move.  We have had at least 5 good friends move within walking distance of our apartment.  I stopped by one of our friends' new places this morning on the walk to work - they were in their pj's, I had my coffee mug.  We just sat and chatted.  My people are such good people.  


Today, I picked up a graded paper when I went into school for work.  It was the Personal Ethic paper that gave me so much trouble back in June; I had to write down basically what I believe about therapy (i.e. what I believe about humanity).  Sort of.


Anyway, my TA (who is a precious gem - her feedback is always kind, gentle, and encouraging) had a lot to say on my paper.  I loved seeing her scribblings all over the pages. (Note: a huge difference in receiving papers back at Mars Hill vs. UNC is that I actually get excited to see lots of words written.  I know, here, the words are inquisitive, gracious, and always calling me to more).  One of her last comments really struck me, and feels like it will take root in my soul for many, many years:

Sometimes our questions make us pioneers, adventuring into new places, and sometimes they keep us as nomads, wandering, alone, "Where is home?"  Sometimes, it may not be a place, but home may be found in good fellow journeyers who can help set up a cozy camp inside the question.

I am grateful to my wise teacher.  I love people.  I need people.  Even when they dizzy me with heartache, bitterness, and rage.  Even when they spin me into a storm of fury.  That's when, actually, I hope I learn to run faster into their arms.  That's when I hope I can hold my arms open, ready to embrace.

That's when I miss you

That's when I miss you, you who are my home