I don't usually talk about my Lenten disciplines, in part because they are often too abstract for my life and they get abandoned due to lack of forethought. However, I will share this time:
I shall challenge the notion of "progress" in my day-to-day life.
Yes, I know, this is again very abstract, but I've thought it through. When I think of all the things that have stopped me, all the abandoned disciplines I initially took on when I moved to Waverly (practice regularly, exercise regularly, read extensively to feed the numerous translations and exegesis papers I would get to because I have the time and skills now), I realize that part of why I quit was because I wasn't sure what I was aiming for. I wanted an end-goal: a recital, a target fitness goal, and a call from a parish. Then none of those things really happened. While I'm sure I could find a way to schedule a recital, and just choose what I want out of my running, I really can't push the call thing. I'm boxed in with several boundaries on the call (geographic location being one of the bigger issues), so that's a little bit harder to "accomplish." Still, I think I am beginning to uncover one of my golden calves...the notion of progress.
After "progressing" though a music degree, my final year was spent in the purgatory of no real study, an early morning job stocking my local target, and no real direction. Ugh. No real thought to the present then...just what I could do to get out of that purgatory. Then seminary was lovely enough to help me feel like I was "progressing" into a pastorate by leaps and bounds. Life did improve greatly with a theological education. It helped make sense of music school and the purgatory year. I still helps me see and discern in ways I never would have otherwise. It also gave me direction.
Yes, direction. The trailhead. It carries such anticipation, such purpose. Oh, the Places You'll Go! (I'm sure other people got that Seuss book when they graduated from high school).
Suddenly, I'm not at the trailhead anymore. I'm not even on a trail. I don't even know where I am. I mean, I'm in an internship. It seems like a trail of some sort. But sometimes it's not. It's not purgatory either.
I see no reason to think that I'm on some sort of road of progress right now. I'm just being who I am, where I am for the moment. The part of me that earns credit for hitting milestones, who is rewarded by looking back and seeing how far I've come, isn't getting fed right now. So either I go hungry pining for the perfect meal of the future progress or I enjoy the food that is on the table at this moment- the feast of the present.
I will practice violin, not with a recital in mind, but because I love playing violin. What will I play? Scales, etudes, old sonatas. Will I compare myself to how I once played them? I might, but I won't end the conversation there, longing for the overly-glorified past or the ever-hopeful future.
I will exercise, not with the goal of a marathon or all-time record, but because it keeps me healthy, and it helps me sleep better. I will neither compare myself to others or to my previous self. I will just enjoy my time spent running, and, God-forbid, enjoy the fact that I am young and healthy and can still do these things.
I will wait for a call, despite feeling like a bum and a freeloader, because I know God is doing something in my life with this time. I might translate some Hebrew, or I might not. I'm not going to beat myself up over it anymore.
Last year for Lent, I gave up self-abuse. It was largely successful, but now I have much more time to let the negativity gain traction. Still, it's all embedded in these ideas of progress and hierarchy and control. Maybe I'm just trying to say no to these things, but really, I'm saying yes to being present in this wonderful place with these wonderful people. Besides, I didn't earn this time off (a nice way to say "underemployed"), but it is a gift from God. I didn't bust myself in seminary and therefore become deserving of this time to rest- it's a gift freely given by God for my recovery of creativity and recentering. I'm ready to embrace that.
What are you taking on for Lent?
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