One week ago we learned our cruise has been canceled. So a thousand clicks later, we have changed Destination SE Asia to Destination So Cal.
Grace abides.
We’ll be going to All Saints Pasadena for the first time to visit our priestly friend, Alfredo. Then a week together in Palm Springs—also new to us—before a few nights in San Diego where we honeymooned 37 years ago. I am grateful as I anticipate traveling.
And I am confident again that Rob is well. Because that’s how he feels.
Even though I ache to cross borders, I can bridge from here. For instance, Rob and I are meditating together before bed. Last night’s version was dedicated to Global Perfect Health. He is better than I am at hearing and using the suggested Sanskrit mantras.
All the myriad of feelings remain, including the ones I wrote about last week. After all, it’s Lent, when we acknowledge our puny-ness and endure the reality of death. Worship at our cathedral will be quieter and more traditional. Not my preference but I know this too is part of the design.
At times, I still bristle of course. Like when my beloved yoga teacher saw ashes on my forehead and explained to the others, “Oh, it’s Ash Wednesday. It’s the beginning of Easter for Catholics.” I tightened briefly because no, I am not Roman Catholic and I know the stereotypes.
Even last week when our trip-of-a-lifetime was nixed, and I felt that wash of sadness, anger and disappointment, I did not get stuck and wallow like I usually do. Instead I somehow continued to vibrate and the general bar of equanimity has settled again. More calmly now, I am experiencing hopeful and open-hearted blasts of warm emotion. For example, I finished reading an out-of-print novel recommended by the 80-something-year-old retired aviation engineer in my book group. Round the Bend by Nevil Shute spun me right around the world and back. Another delight: I found this photo from my last group tour in wonderful Nicaragua.
Infinite Joy* abounds.
The pause for writing is always worth it, whatever the feelings. This round I checked the definition of catholic (note small c) and found, “all-embracing.” Definitely fits for me. Maybe I was incorrect in my assumption that yoga Bev’s catholic had a capital C. Wouldn’t it be splendid if she recognized the “universal” (another definition of small-c catholic) lover in me?
Always Bridging 