Liminal Time

My last few days at the monastery were busier than I expected as I was assigned some tasks that took me out of the monastery, such as driving guests to the airport with a stop at the Visitor Center on the Nez Perce Reservation.

There was also dinner at the Pub & Grub (delicious burgers), and lunch with Corinne at the local Country Haus (great pie there!).

Linda, the Owner, taking a rest

                         

S. Jeanette, S. Karen and some of Karen's friends from Alaska

                                         
                                   

                                               
 S. Chanelle, my heavenly hash supplier  😊


On Wednesday there was a scenic ride with Teresa and the other two volunteers to see the one stop light in all of Idaho County...

then through the mountains and canyons between Cottonwood and Riggins (the Whitewater capital of Idaho!), followed by a spontaneous comedy-fest of sorts with S. Gerry, Barbara Ann and Jeanette the night before I left.

After several group and individual blessings and some tearful farewells, I moved into liminal time as I stepped onto the once-a-day bus to Boise. I arrived in Cottonwood on the 10:10 bus on the last Thursday morning in March and left on the 10:10 bus on the last Thursday morning in April. It felt strange, even difficult, to leave St. Gertrude’s; at the same time, closing the circle on this month-long experience provided a little comfort.

Making my way into liminal time – no longer a “monk for a month” nor back to life as I knew it before taking this adventure – the long bus ride through magnificent land and all kinds of weather reminded me once again how small and insignificant my little life is in this vast and awesome universe.

        

   

 To begin to integrate the experience, I decided on a short stay in Boise before returning home. This turned out to be a very wise decision since my system was shocked when the bus drove out of the last hills and into the bright lights and bustle of the city of Boise (pronounced.: BOY-SEE). There was so much noise! Sleeping the first night in the hotel room was challenging as I heard every door open and close, the mini-refrigerator fan periodically turn on and off, and footsteps along the hallway during the night. I didn’t realize how quiet the monastery was until I stepped back into the world.

On Friday morning I turned on the TV for the first time in a month, got my nails done and colored my hair. I can’t say that any of these things thrilled me; they’re all just a few of the tasks of re-entry. On the other hand, the Idaho trout I had at dinner last night was excellent!

I had an opportunity to walk along parts of Boise’s Greenbelt, a 30+ mile pathway along the Boise River. More than half of it was closed due to the high and fast water flow from all the snow melt but what I saw and walked was lovely.

On Saturday, I packed my things and headed to the airport.

And today – ready or not – I am making my way home.

I See You

When Nikki first picked me up at the Mini Village/Bus Stop in Cottonwood, ID one month ago, she explained a gesture that people on the Camas Prairie give when they’re driving. I was curious and eager to test it out on my long walks along sidewalk-less roads. During my time in Cottonwood, I walked several miles in a few different directions and can report that with few exceptions, the behavior, specific to this area, is rather consistent.

With the exception of the guy in the red truck, the guy in the black truck, and the couple of Prairie High School students who drove by way too fast and gave me the middle finger, nearly every other driver in Cottonwood and the surrounding towns would raise one hand, the one on the steering wheel, and with an open palm facing out acknowledge my presence. They didn’t wave; they didn’t always smile. They would simply raise their hand in a gesture, a blessing of sorts, that seems to say, “I see you.” There's something comforting about that.

Speaking of gestures, I've been thinking about non-verbal communication and the various meanings of different gestures.I’m often fascinated when a particular non-verbal gesture means one thing for one person and something entirely different for another. Without thinking too much or too long about it, what does it mean to you when someone points their index finger at you and then crooks that same finger?

It's called a "beckoning sign" and while it's common and generally acceptable in North American culture, in some Asian cultures, it's not only offensive; it can be cause for getting arrested!

Before coming to the monastery, I can’t even remember the last time someone gestured that way to me. And whenever that last time was, I’m sure I assumed I did something wrong and was in some kind of trouble. So you might imagine how I briefly held my breath when the first person at the monastery to use this gesture toward me was the prioress.

The prioress, Mary Forman, eyed me in the chapel hallway one morning after prayer, and "beckoned" me to follow her into the library. Mary had only been home a short time and just met me briefly so I couldn’t imagine what I might have done.  Sure, I was loud at meals but I always behaved in the chapel. I only arrived late for dark side dish duty on a couple of occasions. And in a month’s time I managed to break only one thing, Corinne’s printer, though I was a little worried yesterday that I might have broken garage door #4 until Placida assured me it was just being temperamental due to the weather.

So what could the prioress possibly reprimand me for? Not a thing. At least, not that time!

It turns out that at St. Gertrude’s Monastery, the beckoning sign is simply a quiet way to say, “I have something to share with you” and in my case, on the three occasions that a sister used that gesture, it was always for something good – an invitation, a blessing, and a decadent treat!

After the Resurrection, the Laundry

After the ritual and awe and magic of Easter Sunday, Easter Monday was most definitely a “laundry day” for me. I woke up wondering, “Is anything really different?” Is transformation really happening?” Is it even possible?”

The skies were partly cloudy on Monday; it wasn’t raining, so I decided to go for a walk. Even though S. Gerry had warned me that it was windy, I had no idea how bitterly cold and forceful the wind would actually be. After only a few steps, my body was uncomfortably cold, my walking poles hurt my hands, my shoulders ached, and nothing felt right as I tried to push through the tundra. After less than a mile, I gave up. The hell with this!

So much for transformation, enlightenment, renewed vision and new life.

Jack Kornfield, in his book, “After the Ecstasy, the Laundry: How the Heart Grows Wise on the Spiritual Path”, writes:

Times of profound peace and newfound love are often overtaken by periods of loss, by closing up, fear, or the discovery of betrayal, only to be followed again by equanimity or joy. In mysterious ways the heart reveals itself to be like a flower that opens and closes. This is our nature.

The only surprising thing is how unexpected this truth can be. It is as if deep down we all hope that some experience, some great realization, enough years of dedicated practice, might finally lift us beyond the touch of life, beyond the mundane struggles of the world. We cling to some hope that in spiritual life we can rise above the wounds of our human pain, never to have to suffer them again. We expect some experience to last. But permanence is not true freedom, not the sure heart's release.

Every wise voyager learns that we cannot hold on to the last port of call, no matter how beautiful. To do so would be like holding our breath, creating a prison from our past. As one Zen master puts it:

"Enlightenment is only the beginning, is only a step of the journey. You can't cling to that as a new identity or you're in immediate trouble. You have to get back down into the messy business of life, to engage with life for years afterward. Only then can you integrate what you have learned. Only then can you learn perfect trust."

What now? What next?

Ora (et Labora)

Holy Week, and those last days leading up to Easter, were marked by what one sister called, “A lot of praying.” I would add to that, “A lot of preparation.” And a lot of patience!

On Holy Thursday, we prepared the chapel and the dining room by changing all the linens in both places. In the dining room, we also took out the “good china” and the wine glasses and had a festive meal before Thursday evening’s liturgy, at the end of which we stripped all the linens, candles, and flowers from the sanctuary and put away all the linens, good china and wine glasses we had just hours before placed on the tables in the dining room until both the chapel and the dining room were bare.

I have little doubt that what took hours to do under the watchful eye of the sisters in charge of the dining room and the chapel could have been done more quickly if I just could have done it my way but then, it wouldn’t be community. It reminds me of making room in the garden or the kitchen when my children were very young so that they could participate in the stuff of family life. Surely, it would have been easier and faster to plant the flowers or make the cake on my own, but the time with my children, the memories we made and traditions we started would never have happened. There’s real value in helping these older women, many of whom are no longer able to move large planters or lift heavy dishes, to maintain their traditions and their Benedictine spirit of hospitality even when it’s more time consuming than it might be.

After the grand Thursday evening liturgy, we mostly remained silent until Saturday morning. Believe it or not, I’m good with silence. An introvert, I can conserve my energy during times of silence when I don’t have to engage or entertain anyone.

Friday morning, we prayed and Friday afternoon, we prayed.

Saturday morning, we prayed and Saturday afternoon we prayed. 

In between, we went about the business of getting ready for the Easter Vigil on Saturday evening and the Easter liturgy on Sunday. We returned linens and candles and abundant flowers to the chapel, and re-placed the linens and decorations in the dining room. We dyed 15 dozen eggs while the cooks baked cakes and cookies and S. Placida made homemade candy.

On Easter morning, the sun actually shone - Alleluia! - and there were sweet breads, cookies and baskets of candy and lots of eggs and it was all a bit magical.

Prayer and work…I might be getting it.

Dreary Weather

I don’t know what sort of weather you’re having where you are, but here in Central Idaho, we’re getting quite a mix today. It does not feel like springtime.

To paraphrase a prophet of the Old Testament:

Rain and hail,

Snow and sleet,

Fog and all kinds of dreary weather, 

Bless our God

Earning My Keep: Labora

One requirement of being a “monk for a month” is to participate a few hours each day in the work of the monastery. This, of course, makes perfect sense given that “Ora et Labora” is the Benedictine motto for monastic life.

I arrived at the monastery two weeks ago on Thursday around 11 am. At 11:30 am, we prayed. At noon, we had “dinner,” the main meal for the day. At 12:30 pm, I began my first work assignment: “Dark Side” work in the kitchen, that is, cleaning pots and pans. I don’t know why but I kind of like being assigned to the Dark Side. It sounds mysterious even though the work is mundane. Yet, it’s also kind of meditative, at least for me. Three of us work together – the first person scrapes; the second washes; the third rinses and sanitizes. A rhythm develops and the whole production is a sort of spontaneously choreographed dance. At least to me.  For others, it seems to be the job that people try to avoid, which I might also do if I had to do the scraping all the time. I’ve been lucky that my Dark Side companions have been good about jumping right in while I’m still lingering at dinner or supper.

Okay – lingering is a gross exaggeration. There’s no lingering after meals. This is quite an adjustment for me. When we eat supper at 5:30 pm, we have stood in the buffet line, chosen our food, picked up a drink, settled in at a table, and started eating. We’ll then have stopped briefly when one of the sisters reads a prayer and then returned to eating and conversation. By 6:00 pm, sometimes 5:55 pm, I have finished eating and have reported for Dark Side duty in the kitchen!

Because I do pots and pans every day, twice a day, lingering is not an option.

When it comes to work, I like to say I’m a free agent so I’m really available to any of the sisters who might need some assistance. Thus, I’ve done a bunch of jobs already. I've:

·         

•       Watered plants throughout the monastery
• ·       Organized bookshelves in one of the offices
• ·         Addressed envelopes
• ·         Folded laundry, made beds and washed dishes at the B&B, The Inn
• ·         Taught one of the sisters some computer skills
• ·         Helped to break that same sister’s printer

o   S. Corinne:          “Are you computer literate?”

o   Me:                      “Yes I am.”

o   S. Corinne:          “Okay, good; then maybe you can fix my printer.”

o   Me:                        “I’m not so sure about that; I’m computer-literate but I’m not a computer repair person. And I don’t have much luck with technology.”

o   S. Corinne:          “Well, let’s take a look. There’s a piece of paper stuck in the printer and maybe you can get it out…”

Without going into detail about how I fashioned homemade pliers from a flat-head screwdriver and a scissor blade to complete the delicate procedure of removing the very minute piece of stuck paper in Corinne’s printer at The Inn, suffice it to say that she has a very nice new printer with which to conduct her business.

·         Mopped the Dining Room floor

·         Changed linens in the Dining Room from blue (for Lent) to white (for Easter)

·         Pruned fruit trees (more on that later)

·         And made raspberry jam

Who knows what tomorrow will bring. I’ll keep you posted.

Weather, Walking, Wonderings (Part II)

While the East Coast is experiencing almost summer-like weather, here in central Idaho it’s cool and sometimes, snowy. 

Once the snow cleared out on Saturday, the weather on Sunday was crisp and sunny and perfect for a training walk.

To get ready to walk the Camino, I need to step up my walking. And I need to break in my new walking shoes. And I need to figure out how to use the walking poles. Sunday was a training day.

This time I walked to the next town over. And here’s how you know you’ve made it to town:

That's about everything in Keuterville, except for the Pub & Grub.

One of the sisters offered to meet me there for a beer and a ride back to the monastery before she realized the timing wasn’t going to work for her, so I did the 7-mile walk – no pub visit this time – on my own.

You can take a look at the Keuterville Pub & Grub on Trip Advisor. It gets an excellent rating and is, in fact, the #1 restaurant in the town. 

These next few days at the monastery will be very busy since it’s Holy Week. It’s also a holy time for Hindus (Hanuman Jayantihindu), Buddhists (Theravadin Mew Year), Jews (Passover), and Christians (Easter). If you are one of these or none of these, I wish you the same blessings offered to me by my friends, Jonathan and Martha:

§  peace,

§  love,

§  observance,

§  down time,

§  excitement,

§  boredom,

§  long walks in & talks with nature,

§  new friends,

§  hearty food,

§  REST,

§  confirming and alarming experiences,
and more PEACE!

                                    

More Marshmallows & Other Gluten-Free Foods

While I’m on the subject of food, assuming marshmallows count as a food, that is, I want to mention how good the cooks at the monastery are with providing gluten-free options. At each meal, there’s gluten-free food; there’s also a deep freezer full of boxes of gluten-free loaves of bread. I guess I didn’t need to bring my own bread after all. Sometimes one of the cooks makes something extra-special. On Saturday, Dolores actually made gluten-free chicken and dumplings for the few of us who either choose to or have to eat gluten-free.

Even better is the fact that dessert is a regular offering here. There’s been pudding and cake and candy and cookies and ice cream and even some gluten-free brownies, and always monastery-canned cherries, pears and peaches. 

Gotta trust a community of women that offers dessert on a daily basis! 

Marshmallows!!

A week ago on Saturday afternoon I made my way back to my room after helping one of the sisters clean out her office (who asked for that job!) and right by my bedroom door was a package waiting for me. It was something from my friend, Rosi, who is one of the most generous people I know.  A few days before I left home, Rosi gave me a bag of “specialty” marshmallows for my trip to Idaho. I thanked her and told her they probably wouldn’t even last till then. They didn’t. Back in my room, I opened the package and discovered…MARSHMALLOWS!!

Nearly everyone knows I’m a marshmallow addict. I make no apologies for it. There’s something heavenly about the texture and the taste. I’m trying to ration the marshmallows Rosi sent. This is a little easier now that I’ve located some “suppliers” in Cottonwood: S. Chantelle famous for her heavenly hash and the monastery cooks who whipped up ambrosia this past week. At the monastery, marshmallows abound!

If I were a poet, I’d write a very profound and meaningful poem about marshmallows; instead I’ll just eat some.

Weather, Walking, Wonderings

The Benedictine Sisters I’m living with this month, the Sisters of St. Gertrude’s Monastery, have their beginnings in Switzerland. Three young missionary sisters made their way to the Northwest United States and in the early 1900s, settled on the prairie in Cottonwood. Perhaps you can see why they felt somewhat “at home” when they settled in this part of Central Idaho.

I’ve been doing a lot of walking on the prairie. Hopefully, it’s getting me conditioned for the Camino, my next pilgrimage.  On Saturday morning, two of the sisters and I participated in the first of seven 5k walks sponsored by the Partnership for Healthy Communities, this one along the Salmon River. It is stunningly beautiful and it didn’t hurt that it was one of those beginning-of-spring cool and sunny mornings. 

Later that day, I decided to attempt a longer walk to the little town of Cottonwood, about three miles from the monastery. I set out with my non-working cell phone and $20, just in case. I walked about 2.5 miles and then decided to turn around rather than attempt to master the last big hill, down and then back up. Still feeling pretty good at this point, I started walking back toward the monastery.

The weather was good…until it wasn’t. They say if you don’t like the weather in Idaho, wait 10 minutes. And it’s true. Here’s a picture of the very nice weather in the middle of my walk.

                             And here’s a picture of me and the weather 10 minutes later. 

                                            Funny how the weather shifts the mood.

One of the oblates visiting the monastery for the weekend must have seen me trudging along in the rain – no rain gear, just my phone that doesn’t work and $20, just in case. Fred stopped to offer me a ride back to the monastery. Not wanting to give in or give up, still I was quickly drawn to the passenger seat of Fred’s car: "The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.". He wasn’t judging me, but I was sure feeling badly about not “succeeding.”

Sunday, I tried again. I signed myself out and told a couple of sisters that I was going to walk to town and back since it was a sunny day and I had the time to give it a try. I was a bit better prepared this time with my backpack complete with water bottle, Band-aids, protein bar, non-working cell phone and $20. I walked out into the glorious sunshine and before I got to the first bend in the road, it began to snow. 

My knee-jerk response in many challenging situations is often to just keep going. And that was my initial reaction on Sunday. It was windy, cold and snowing; I was wearing a sweatshirt and telling myself to bear it and just keep going.

Then I remembered what I'm doing here. Balance in Benedictine spirituality. The middle way in Buddhism. I decided it was worth the effort to try something different, something sensible and gentle rather than extreme; something that could actually support my efforts and perhaps make the experience enjoyable or, at least, more doable.

I turned around and made my way back to the monastery, walked the four flights of stairs to my room and got my coat, gloves and a phone number in case of emergency. I stepped out of the monastery into, you guessed it!...the glorious sunshine. If you don’t like the weather in Idaho, just wait ten minutes!