Solitude & Community

Since each of my weekends have been full so far and I have friends in town each coming weekend until I leave, I consciously guarded one weekend Just For Me. I had grand schemes of Portland explorations and adventures to the coast and foodcart grub to-go, and hikes in the Columbia gorge. I love the opportunity to exercise my introverted side and what better place than on a floathouse in Portland?! 

One of the many Brew 'n View famous theaters of Portland

Oh the joy of the food cart.

Coffee in hand. Driving in beauty.
My happy place.

It is just so weird and I love it.

This.bookstore.
Powell's. I could be here for days on days.

So, I was having a blast on Saturday checking off my 'Portland Before I Leave' list. 

On Sunday, I headed out for a hike along the PCT and it was the first time I was really out in the "wilderness" alone since the Camino. As I walked, I had this displaced expectation for my Camino friends to be in front of me, behind me, or right beside me. I half-expected Jose or Amber to be waiting at the next bend... for the distant French accent of Pierre or Irish drawl of Mary to float through the trees. I had to shake my head and ground my thoughts and remind myself I-am-in-Portland - what am I thinking?! But at the same time, this deep longing rose up in me to be on the path with others. I was reminded of the comfort that came knowing those dear friends were there, waiting for me and walking with me... the calm and ease I felt knowing we were going through this difficult and painful yet rewarding journey together. 

The Camino : July 2013
The family who walked it with me.

PCT : June 2014

And my mind shifted to my friends back in Chicago, my people who love and support and encourage and uplift me there. 

A Thomas Merton quote that I read in Celebration of Discipline came to mind: "It is in deep solitude that I find the gentleness with which I can truly love my brothers. The more solitary I am the more affect I have for them... Solitude and silence teach me to love my brothers for what they are, not for what they say..."  

Foster talks about the fruit of solitude being the new freedom to be with people... and it suddenly rang true. The other day, I was describing to my dear mentor and spiritual guide Jenni how sometimes the glory of my time here is clouded by the impending Return date to Chicago. It brings with it an element of fear because I love it here SO much - and I dread that maybe the feeling of enjoying it is God telling me I am better off alone. Sometimes I am scared to fully embrace singleness & solitude because it means that perhaps I was meant for it - loving Alone confirms the always resonating voice whispering to my soul that I was created to be independent & solo - not needing anyone with me on the journey. 

In some ways, my enjoyment of being alone is concurrently rooted in a fear of being alone... how that is possible??? I do not know.

The epic "Bridge of the Gods"
leading from Oregon to Washington

Arrows of direction.
They led me along the Camino and also spotted along the PCT!

Instead of Camino shells, the pine tree signposts were my guide.

But what I realized on my hike is that I needed God to reveal the Desire within me to be with others - a desire I was afraid I had lost since being here. The true longing of my heart that has always been there and remains there - to see the beauty that comes from life together. I needed Him to give me the anticipation of emerging out of solitude into community, which is essentially life back in Chicago. He reminded my heart of His very near presence and how I was created to be with others - and not only created for it, but actually do want it. 

The lie that life is better alone is not something I want to believe. So I am soaking in every ounce of solitary time not wanting to take it for granted while I am in the pines on the river, but I also know I will be ready to come back to Chicago when it is time in July. Ready to return with a new sense of gentleness and sincerity and love for people - that emerges from a season of being away.

Sleepy floathouses on the Wilamette

Just some thoughts on yet another rainy Portland morning. 

(So.much.rain. All this green comes at a cost... I am learning...) 

"Since God is near to all who call upon him, we are under no obligation to cross the sea. The kingdom of heaven can be reached from every land."

//Abbess Samantham

cited in Edward C. Sellner

"Pilgrimage"

Vance Creek Viaduct
Steel Bridge / 400 feet high
So much beauty to behold.

Pilgrimage can be misleading if we believe that access to God is only to be found somewhere holy. We are called to see everything with new eyes - the mundane and routine become a delight. 

The adventure, the wonder, the grace are all here now.

From My Dad

In middle school/high school, when everyone else was getting their hair braided in Mexico and ordering drinks on the resort tab in the Bahamas, my family was roadtripping westward, rafting along the Rogue River, camping under the northern CA stars, and attending Shakespeare festivals in the mountains of Ashland, Oregon. I resented my family for this abrupt disturbance on all things Cool Teenager and complained endlessly before leaving... begging my parents to just let me be Normal. But upon arrival to the scent of the pines and the freshness of air, my heart settled into the rhythm of simplicity so naturally offered by this part of the country. I didn't want to admit I was Wrong (cardinal rule of all things 13) but sitting around the campfire at night after a day of romping around the woods with my brothers was exactly where I wanted to be; I couldn't picture my summer anywhere else.

 

What I couldn't see then was that my dad was giving me a gift: unveiling God's mystery in the beauty of nature, discovering Him amidst Creation in a way that only the ocean & forest can do. To be back in the place that first opened my eyes to the wonder of God causes a re-discovery of what I have always known. God is with me. There's nothing else that sheds my blinders and grips my attention to that truth like nature. It's the thing that led me to the Camino and to residing on a houseboat along the Willamette.

It's not Home, but it feels like it.

On Father's Day today, I couldn't be with my dad in Chicago, but I celebrated him with a hike on the Pacific Crest Trail. There's perhaps no better way to honor him than stepping into the natural beauty of this state that he taught me to love. All things coffee, fine wine, cycling, nature, writing, photo, & film I inherited from my dad and have come to understand make me who I am. The process of Becoming is incomplete without appreciating each of these qualities with deep gratitude from who they come from... Thank you, dad.

Living Dreams.

Growing up, I was encouraged to "live my dreams," and assumed this meant following in the footsteps of the bulletin board heroes of my elementary classroom days: leading protest rallies like Martin Luther King Jr., defending one's country to become president like George Washington, advocating for women's rights like Jane Addams, or being a prolific writer like Jane Austen. Dreams meant the loudest voice, the most spirited leader, and a list of page numbers with one's name in the glossary of Social Studies books. While I carried future hopes of becoming an author, traveler, or teacher; I rarely considered this a dream to be taken seriously by the big rigs. I didn't strive towards fame, I was never enthralled with celebrities, and I didn't particularly enjoy standing against authority. Naturally I was left wondering - what kind of dream am I meant to live out?

Explored a riverbank in east Oregon with friends last weekend -
I never knew so many shades of green existed!

And yet, as I carried groceries across the dock and felt the exchange of daytime air to night, I glanced out to the sun setting behind the pines, listened as the geese lapped along the river and the chimes welcome the moonlit breeze with their melodic song, and I thought: Dreams are not generically intended to fit a quota or reach a standard. They are tailored to the gifts of the individual, unique in their design and custom-made for the intended purpose for each human. Who can measure a dream? Only the one who dreams it reserves that right.

I love observing the outline of each needle etched against the night sky.

Here in Portland, I am soaking in every breath of pine-filled air, clinging to this dream I had no idea existed. A passion for an ancient pilgrimage route and the opportunity to partner with others in their daily "Camino," exploring the human experience through the art medium of film, plus the harmonious blend of my life commitments to journey, spirituality, community, and storytelling... it is here my dream is lived. Each happenstance of my past occurred in such a way as to weave these parts of me together and concurrently offer a job in which I can use my strengths. While it certainly gets monotonous with the onslaught of marketing techniques as I learn to maximize social media and target phone calls to strangers - it is in those moments the Big Picture gives purpose to the tedium. The day-to-day job related tasks are not necessarily fun or intellectually stimulating, they are not even entirely engaging... but when the Big Picture is in mind, a dream can be fully realized and set free to be lived.

Sonja was one of the first that encouraged me to "dream beyond the Kindergarten classroom"
Thankful for last weekend spent with one of my very best Chicago-Seattle friends [and Ted!]

"Often fear of what others may think or a hundred other motives determine our 'yes' or 'no' rather than obedience to divine urgings." 

// R.J. Foster // Celebration of Discipline // 94

To Marvel.

"Get close to the earth. Walk whenever you can. Listen to the birds. Enjoy the texture of grass and leaves. Smell the flowers. Marvel in the rich colors everywhere. Simplicity means to discover once again that 'the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof' (Ps. 24:1)."

// R.J. Foster

on "Simplicity" 

Celebration of Discipline, 93.

Neighbor on the right.

Everyday view. 

Community of Floathouses

Geese in the morning mist

Facing north.

"So give your attention to the created order. Look at the trees, really look at them. Take a flower and allow its beauty and symmetry to sink deep into your mind and heart. Listen to the birds - they are the messengers of God. Watch the little creatures that creep upon the earth. These are humble acts, to be sure, but sometimes God reaches us profoundly in these simple ways if we will quiet ourselves to listen."

// R.J. Foster

on Meditation

Celebration of Discipline, 31