Awake

On Awakening

Ever get that feeling that you are about to change in some deep significant way?

Me neither.

Ever really really want to?

Me too.

This summer, I had classes five nights a week and worked full time. On the positive side, I stayed on a fast-track to getting my license. On the negative side, I put volunteering at the dispute resolution center on hold until October; I could never get started with a new small group bible study; and I won't be able to volunteer at AWANA this Fall. In the gray area is all the resulting feelings...feeling isolated, struggling with loneliness, feeling a bit more tired than usual (not too much, just a bit). So what am I gonna change as a result? First of all, my class schedule. Instead of a 5-nights-a-week schedule, I'm splitting up my 2 classes, one in the morning (Tu/Th), one in the evening (M/W). I'll have a spectacularly extravagant 3 evenings free...until I put back mediation and bible study. Ok, so one night free. And Friday, to boot. I'll take it.

But more than changing my schedule, what I really want to change is my heart. A bit more passion would do nicely. A bit more compassion wouldn't go amiss either. A dash of activism and a pinch of righteous indignation would savor well in my soul I think. I've been there before. It's a good place to be, but this time I'd like to take along my whole self, body included. I want to be transparently awake and ready and watchful and prayerful and loving and compassionate, ferociously pursuing justice — from skin to spirit, guts and all.

But I just keep coming back to that island of me. I'll change in private and show you later, when I'm ready, when I'm perfect. Hogwash. Ridiculous. Perfectionism. Ick.

What I dream of is a hand to hold. Someone to gently guide me from the island to the community. It seems preposterous to me (so strong! so willful! so capable!) to need such a thing. (Pride, when swallowed, can make such a painful lump in one's throat.) But I do want that. Don't know if I really need it. (I probably do.) But I definitely want that. It's mushy, but I don't care. I could use a little mushiness in my life.

Sentimentality aside, I do sense a change of tides signaling more than just the every-minute wave tumbling toward the shore. It's no tsunami, just a rip tide — hopefully strong enough to pull me into the deep.