Day 1

The View from my
Room at Ridley Hall

One always ponders how to start a story. My first-year composition teacher had the best advice: begin at the beginning. No wonder then that the author of Genesis and the Gospel of John do so very explicitly. "In the beginning ... " And yet, others begin stories in ways that stick: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness ..." (Charles Dickens, Tale of Two Cities) This story is not quite so profound, so it begins a bit more simply: it's day one. 

Day one of this sabbatical journey began with a farewell to my beloved spouse at the Amtrak terminal in Harrisburg where what turned out to be a nearly sleepless twenty-seven-hour trek began. Four hours to Newark International Airport - an extended wait until late afternoon to board the flight to Lisbon - a layover for the connecting flight to London - the queue (as a waiting line is called here in the United Kingdom) for immigration approvals - baggage claim (an ordeal in any airport) - finding my way to the tube (the Underground Piccadilly Line) to Kings Cross Station - the train to Cambridge - sorting out how to find my way to Ridley Hall (I finally gave in an took a taxi). To me, at the tender age of sixty-seven, managing all this with forty-seven pounds of backpack luggage a carry-on backpack of seventeen pounds and my CPAP machine in tow, this was at least an adventure if not an ordeal. 

In an adventure, no matter how many plans have been made or how many contingencies have been provided for, there are always the twists and turns that can make the best laid plans go awry - those unexpected events that can raise anxiety and stress, even though the only way is forward - like realizing the $150 in cash you have in your pocket is pretty well worthless once you're actually in the UK! (There's always the ATM just opposite customs - thanks, Rick Steeves, for that sage advice.)

Gratefully, in two key areas of my personal self-care (spiritual direction and psychotherapy), we have been working on increasing practices dedicated to mindfulness. One might best describe my physical journey to Ridley Hall as a lot of "hurry-up and wait," all of which gave me a lot of time to observe a world that is quite different than the world of my routine existence and which will provide me a great deal upon which to reflect in the days to come. My mindfulness practices allowed me to become more present in some of those moments of waiting, excruciatingly intense as they were at times - present enough to notice, for example, the disheveled, young man aimlessly riding the AirTrain tram that connects the Amtrak station to the Newark Airport terminals. Smelly, withdrawn, and unkempt, he clumsily ate a muffin from a Starbucks bag. Much of it crumbled messily onto the floor as he struggled with something clearly designed to be eaten with utensils at a proper table. Others in the tram edged away, disdain on their faces. The phrase came to my mind, "and he was moved with pity." But what could I do in this context? (Oh, I see, good Levite ... )

Later, in Terminal B, after I had lunch, I went to sit at one of the benches that line the halls outside the food court. Mindfulness was not exactly my own state of mind at that point, until the person next to me stood up and a familiar odor drifted toward me. Yes, it was him. Not a moment later, he looked at me and said he was trying to get something to eat. It was time to make mindfulness, lovingkindness, and compassion real. I gave him  a few dollars. He blessed me and was on his way as another traveler sat down and not a "New York minute" later got up complaining about the smell while noticing a puddle on the floor near her feet, something I hadn't noticed till then.

OK. Maybe the twenty-seven hours felt like an ordeal. But I arrived at Ridley safely and was greeted warmly by a staff member who stayed longer than her scheduled work time to greet me and show me to my room. Once there, I had the opportunity for a hot shower, clean clothes, and a nap before a delicious supper among potential new friends and colleagues. 

Indeed, I am greatly privileged and deeply blessed. 

Thanks be to God.