God Only Knows

I think it was love at first sight.

The first time I read a book by Henri Nouwen, I just knew. He was my soulmate.

I suppose being someone who values words so much, it was natural.

And his words have meant a lot to me over the years. I read "Life of the Beloved" after a hard breakup and it helped soothe an aching soul with truths I needed to read. I remember finding "A Cry for Mercy" in a dusty corner of the Borders near the World Financial Center, at a time when I desperately needed God.

Last week, when my melancholy self was struggling yet again to make sense of this life and my faith, I found myself comforted by words from a familiar voice – one a little further down the road.

And sometimes you just need someone to remind you that you’re normal…

“My reading about the spirituality of the desert has made me aware of the importance of “nepsis.” Nepsis means mental sobriety, spiritual attention direction to God, watchfulness in keeping the bad thoughts away, and creating free space for prayer. While working with the rocks I repeated a few times the famous words of the old desert fathers: “fuge, tace, et quiesce” (live in solitude, silence, and inner peace), but only God knows how far I am, not only from this reality but even from this desire.”

At the End of a Stormy Day

I've found myself lately listening to old Pedro the Lion albums late at night. I sometimes put "Secret of the Easy Yoke" on repeat just to hear the last few minutes, when he sings Peace. Be Still. over and over again.

I guess I have needed to remind myself of that. Again.

I'm feeling pretty worn out today. Just physically tired. From sitting in a chair all day? Maybe. Most likely, though, it's my 5 a.m. start clashing with my night owl self.

Whatever it is, I plan to go to bed early tonight.

But before I do, I just thought I'd share a little snapshot of the sky from my little flat as the sun sets in London.

After a stormy day, where dark clouds seemed to loom overhead for miles on end, blue is peaking through again. So is the sun.

Peace. Be Still.

Distracted From Distraction By Distraction

I read an article today in the New York Times about what this computer age is doing to our brains. (Favorite line: This is your brain on computers.) It was kind of scary to think of what we’ve done and are doing with our crazy need to be plugged in 24-7 to news and technology.

The article said that computer users at work change windows or check email or other programs nearly 37 times an hour. I’m pretty sure that in my line of work, I do more than that. A lot more. And seeing as I’m probably not one of the less-than-three-percent of the population deemed “supertaskers,” it stresses me out. And the amount of information and emails and news I see a day only adds to that feeling.

So tonight, after a packed tube ride home, I decided to unplug. I went for a run. Only my second time in I’m ashamed to admit how long. I didn’t bring a phone or my iPod. (Having started my running days with cross country in high school – back when a Walkman was the latest form of cool, I’ve actually never run with music.)

It was so refreshing to hear the sounds of the city and nature around me. Snippets of conversations I normally shut out with earphones. The ebb and flow of traffic. Birds singing. Wind rustling leaves. The sounds of opera in the park wafting over the voices of people waiting to go into the tent. Rain falling gently through the trees. Dogs barking and playing. Kids hanging out.

Life in acoustic.

I should unplug more often.

Life Moves Pretty Fast

I am amazed at how quickly time flies these days.

I have a theory about this. (I have a theory about most things. I think I get it from my mom...) When you're two, one day equals about 1/730 of your life. It's a big deal. You remember every little thing. At the moment, one day of my life equals 1/11,680. Days just pass by. Weeks pass by. Months pass by. And most of the time, I have a hard time remembering what I did yesterday.

The last month has been a good one, filled to the brim with things that don't include work (although, as usual, I did work a lot.). I had visitors in town -- including one of my dearest friends from Brussels. I went to a jazz club, where grandma that I am, I couldn't keep my eyes open and had to leave hours before my 60-year-old friend. I went to see a play. I went to museums. I walked all over London town. I visited with good friends in Oxford, where I ate at a Michelin-starred restaurant in the middle of nowhere, took a long, meandering country walk and went strawberry and asparagus picking. I went out with friends to delicious dinners. I went to yoga. I walked through blossoming parks. I went lawn bowling in Hyde Park to celebrate the birthdays of very precious friends.

Life has been full. So full that I sometimes forgot to thank God for the many blessings He's given me. So full that I always forgot to write -- though true to my nature, I did feel guilty about it...

It is easy for me in the midst of this fullness to just go quickly through my days. To not stop and enjoy life. To enjoy exactly where I'm at and the people I'm with and the passing of time and seasons. As Ferris Bueller once said: Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

So I'm back from my little hiatus, hoping to take a few moments each day to stop and look around. To be thankful for the small things that make up my life during this season in London, where like the trees and plants all around me, I feel myself changing and growing into a fuller version of myself and who I am meant to be.