Sacred Life Sunday in a Manner of Speaking....

I always feel a bit deceptive when I label a post as "Sacred Life Sunday" because the truth is that I don't particularly like weekends.

Never have.

This is another part of living the kind of life I do, one that is separate from the mainstream.

Over the past week or so, I've been making actual progress toward getting the things done that I need to do to move. The main thing, of course, was dealing with the systems enough to get legal again with my drivers license. (It was expired and I had to renew it. The clerk was astounded that I could get along as long as I did without legal ID. Actually, it was quite simple. Nearly everything in my life is automated. My bills are automatically paid. I don't write checks. My funding comes in a monthly direct deposit. It's simple to live off the grid, thanks to the Internet.)

Anyway, I am making a lot of calls and filling out lots of forms, trying to find housing in either Berkeley or Humboldt County. Some of that requires phone calls, faxing or express mailing. I can't do that on weekends.

Weekends leave me feeling cut off. Another drawback is that most of the people I know are in family units who typically spend their weekends together. During the week, I am more engaged. The people I know usually call during the week because their family members are at work, school or doing something else.

So.. there's nothing sacred to report about my Sundays. My life is freeform enough that my sacredness depends on the day I happen to focus on it - which may or may not be on Sundays. The idea of scheduling sacredness is rather absurd.

This past few days, I've been thinking about Sister Kathryn's comment to my past post. She writes of being a nun for 43 years and how they've created a supportive, almost socialistic, community. In really pondering the comment, I can almost grab the thread, realizing that is how I would have liked to live. It's a missing piece. An idea without form. If I'd known that when I was 20, I might have made some very different choices.

Instead, I wasted a lot of energy and too many years fighting against the tides of the mainstream. No salmon-like moves here. It was always very hard and alienating.

I kept thinking that if I uttered the right password or knew the secret handshake, I would unlock the door and the mainstream would open wide. It would embrace me. The light would stream in and the stars would sparkle.

It never did.

So... looking from this vantage point, that of a nearly senior citizen, I'm aware of how much time I wasted. I wandered from this to that, never connecting to anything, because I couldn't find the secret that would unlock the door.

Not that I regret it. Well, maybe a little. My choices were my choices ~ and I'm sure I've gotten something important from the life I ended up living. Still, I would never encourage anyone else to take my path. My belief now is that if you have a passion, honor it! Don't let anything else get in the way, especially someone else's expectations. I wasted far too many years trying to please people who wouldn't have been pleased, even if I'd walked on water and turned water into wine.

At the root, we all know who we are. Denying it doesn't make sense - and before you know it, a 57-year-old face is staring back at you in the mirror.

What I do know is that it will be very different in the future. Berkeley is a pit stop. When I get to my heart's home, I will be spending a lot of time at the wat. If possible, I might even take a year and live a monastic life. The draw is becoming stronger all the time as I let my mainstream fantasies fade to grey.

I'll write a bit more about what a monastic life in Thailand will look like for a woman. It's different than for a man (obviously). In the interests of keeping this post a reasonable length, I'll save that for a few days from now.

Hope everyone is having a peaceful Sunday evening.

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