A friend from the retreat asked me if I’d been able to keep up my meditation practice while we were in Tobago.
The answer is yes, and no.
The first week, I read the fantastic Breathing Underwater. One of Rohr’s observations was that when you find positive practices for your life, you should find that you need less of them over time to get the benefit, not more.
For a while now, it had felt that the law of level of diminishing returns was starting to apply to my meditation, yet I was afraid to scale back and lose ground. In the weeks before our trip, I’d gone from an hour and a half to 2 hours a day down to about 1 – 1.5 hours. I’d been keeping up with an hour plus a day since we’d been on vacation, but was trying to figure out how Rohr’s idea applied to my practice.
800+
That is the number of photos I have that haven’t been edited from the period leading up to our vacation and the vacation itself.
3 miles.
That’s how far I walked yesterday evening on a snowy bike trail by the Mohawk River, listening to contemplative music and hoping for answers.
2 weeks.
That’s how long we were in Tobago, having a time that was truly transcendent.
1 simple command.
That’s what I heard from God yesterday. The words provided me with my intention for Lent.
Zero.
That’s the number of words I have ready to publish about our trip.
The trip feels like a fantastic dream. The longer I wait to document it, the more it fades from memory. I glance back at the magic, then turn forward to Lent, a period of repentance and waiting.
Life feels like the bare branches of the landscape, occasionally catching the sunlight in a way that shows the ugliness to be beautiful. Summer is a quiet, hopeful memory.
Here’s my Pandora playlist for Lent. My intention is to let women speak wisdom into my life during this wait for Easter. The above photo is one I took on my walk. And appropriately, I realized after I clicked publish that this “numbers edition” is the 200th post on the blog.
I have a theory about preparing for disaster when traveling with kids: Whatever you are prepared for, that isn’t the disaster that will happen.
I’d rather pack light and have my hands free to deal with whatever comes my way, than to have neatly packed baggies with special treats, toys to give my kids on the plane, and a fresh change of clothes for everyone. Bare essentials for a five-hour flight?
It feels amazing when you have energy and you’re getting a ton of stuff crossed off your to-do list, doesn’t it? If it were easier to keep a balanced perspective, those times would probably keep you going during the times when making even simple decisions felt exhausting and you were staring down your third day of laying on the sofa all afternoon because you just couldn’t get up.
Maybe that’s just me.
I mentioned earlier I’d brought two books on my trip to the Netherlands. The second one was a bit of a last minute, surprise choice for me. Not long before I left, the Chaplain and I were taking one of our evening walks past one of the Little Libraries that dot our city.
As we sometimes do, we stopped to look inside. I’d actually brought books with me to put into the library, another way of losing weight before the trip. I hadn’t planned to bring any back home.
Then, I saw Tuesdays With Morrie, by Mitch Albom. I knew it was a classic. I think it’s common high school lit reading. I’d never read it. The talk on the cover of life lessons was attractive to me. The slim size of the paperback appealed to my traveler’s sensibilities.
I tucked it in with a couple of other books I’d chosen, and we went on our way.
