Dear friends and family,
O.k. you'll need to use your imagination for one more blog until I get to Ohio and have a chance to apply photos from the trip...lo siento (practicing for Mexico!)
Here are some thoughts from the final days at Iona. Didn't have much time to blog while there so I'm setting this out after the fact, from my own cozy wee home here in ABQ. Here's from my inner musings...
I love this little island town! It's like most small villages...warm, trusting, open hearted, easy to get around. Unbelievably this island is also a fair trade zone----probably largely the influence of Iona, a global community.
Tonight after the healing service at the Abbey, I walked out under a big sky with stars and no light pollution....it's been an intense 4 days . A ceiladh dance last night, at 10pm, which is the Scottish dancing----very similar to contra or square dancing. We were mixing it all up, young and old alike, men and women, men and men, women and women, children and geezers, with laughter and smiles abounding.
Today we had a pilgrimage around the island. We were out for 6 hours, alongside the sheep, cows and birds of the air, who live in the sleet and sun and wind, day in, day out. They say that you can experience all four elements of weather in a day at Iona. Indeed. It was misty and wet to start with, sunny halfway through and sleeting and windy for the final leg. The pilgrimage was powerful, with stunning views, sacred sites and readings that cut right through to the soul. 7 miles round trip over hill and dale, moor and heather. Bogs and rocks and slippery and rainy and sunny. I fell in a bog the very last stretch. DRAT! I was determined not to do that, but the bogs can be up to 1/4 mile wide and you can sink up to your hips in some places. No way to escape unless you want to walk out of your way and lose the group.
Think thick, black mud, slime, quicksand... Anyway, I tried to run across it, "GrouchoMarx style" as our leader instructed. Instead, I fell back at the last minute, clawing to no avail at the clumps of slippery grass, to pull myself out. Well, that is a ridiculous thought. Now you get the picture....muddy peat and stinky thick water poured into my boots. SLosh, slosh, slosh, for the rest of the pilgrimage.
I think my blood is just beginning to get a little thicker after all this time out in the elements with the sheep and cows.
Truly, it was a metaphor for the daily faith journey of life.
Iona is all about community. As we all know, there's wonderful, amazing things and challenging things about that. On Iona, since we're more buffered from the elements, I don't feel the harshness nor the rawness of the earth and my own emotions, quite as I did at Camas. We can always gather around the coal fire hearth during the day. When it is too cold or blustery, we can have a cup of tea with biscuits over a cheery fire. I can always resort to a hot shower at the end of a very looong day. I am needing a massage. My neck and lower back are killing me. Not much place or time for yoga here.
Worship and work are one in this place. Each day the rhythm kicks in.. breakfast at 8:15am, Worhip in the Abbey at 9am, chores at 9:30am, time with John Bell from 10-12:30pm, lunch and then some free time before diving into either a pilgrimage, a tour, a walk, etc. 4pm is singing time with John Bell, followed by dinner and then an evening session of either a healing prayer service, a talent show or time for reflection together. Evening worship is at 9am in the Abbey. Dancing or a reception follows this, or just sitting around talking about the troubled world or the days thoughts with people from many places.
We continue to read the front pages of the Guardian and The Telegraph and other british papers daily, and folks from the UK, Canada and US bat about thoughts and feelings about this time of collapsing economies. Sounds grim, but perhaps a time for a fresh start and "cleaning house". I wonder what the sentiment is in the states. One British commentator calls this the Economic 9-11 and signals the end of U.S. empire. Interesting.
Check it out for photos, hopefully by the end of next week.
Until later...here is St. Patrick's prayer.
Christ be with me,
Christ within me
Christ behind me,
Christ before me
Christ beside me,
Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me
(HWB #442)
Peace,
Anita
2 comments:
Sounds fantastic, Anita. I would have done it with a copy of Jane Eyre in my pocket. I, too, would have fallen into a bog and probably ruined the book--which is for the best, because really, it's a rather trashy novel.
But in all seriousness, it sounds like it was just what a sabbatical trek should be.
Thanks for keeping us updated. Looking forward to your next post. Maybe in Spanish, eh?
Marlin
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