the very new year, what will i be like when i'm old?, and possibly being called to the hills?

So this is a little belated, but still a little applicable to the moment. After worship on Sunday, the lady sitting behind me and I shared with each other about how it's good to reflect on the new year as it's happening, and how new the new year can feel.

I've felt an interesting kind of feeling this new year - not a new-ness where I feel like everything in the world is do-able or possible, and this new year isn't necessarily even marked by any other new beginning - we're mid-academic year, etc. But something about the semester break felt so restful that things felt new to me. I got to thinking about the cycle we sometimes go through between rest/relaxation/Sabbath and craziness/messy-ness/busy-ness. We wipe clean the slate, the to-do lists, etc., put them away even - and then we whip them right out and begin dirtying them up again, naming tasks, prioritizing them, marking them off. We cloud our worlds (physical, mental, and spiritual) with post-it notes, intentions for good, guilt about things done wrongly and things left undone, etc., etc. - Exactly - et cetera, et cetera - all the stuff that fills in the messy cracks between the messy clutter of our lives - all of of those unnamed things you know should be done that either slipped into the next thought in your head, or you didn't think of it.

I've shared with some people lately that I've come to appreciate breaks more and more. I really appreciated my few weeks of sitting, eating, time with family - all made possible by the burden of work (both school and church) lifted for that time. And I almost don't want to move back into the messy-ness yet - or really ever. Isn't that kind of what Sabbath's supposed to be about - experiencing the kind of rest and lack of burden that we'd love to make the norm - for every day, and for all people? I'd like to hope so.

Of course, I very quickly return to my question of whether rest and un-burden really is the ideal - don't we feel great after we complete a great task that adds something wonderful to the world? Sitting isn't necessarily the ideal (indeed, if sitting were the ideal, maybe our obese U.S.A. could actually claim the status of God's chosen people with some validity) - quite far from it, I'd say. So, maybe it's the ideal of deep rest? Or just deep presence/mindfulness - whether we're moving or still? Anyway - I can say one thing about these things - that I aspire to maintaining a certain level of un-clutter in my life. Balance is always what we're seeking, and of course we have demands coming at us from all sides - but I really hope that I'm always able to say no when necessary, cut away the committee memberships that over-extend me, throw away the papers that I don't need any more, let go of the physical belongings that really are just taking up space, keep myself and my time accessible to others, take time for deep rest and no cell phones, e-mail, or to-do lists, and maintain a certain level of centered-ness in the midst of activity.

One quick note about my assisted living visits today - every time I visit a handful of elderly folks for the church or whatever, I'm continually amazed at what varied levels of independence, physical mobility, mental awareness, etc. that people of the same age can be. And I ask, What should I do? Not do? What's the key to being "with it" and happy when I'm 80, or 103? Are there steps I can take now, plans I can make, etc.? I honestly don't know. I'd hope that what I'm doing now is helping now - but I think I'd also be interested in talking to a geriatric specialist, or reading studies about such things, etc. Of course, I might die next week, or in some other sudden way when I'm 65 - but for some reason, I've had in mind for a long time that I would live until 100 or so. Why? I don't know. That may have been about the same time that I thought I'd be drum major, valedictorian, and become something like an astronaut, artist, or concert pianist.

And the last thing - after our day trip to the Methodist camp at Beersheba Springs last week, I felt a call to be near cows, horses, and hills. On the drive down there, I thought, why does being around cows feel a little foreign? (Maybe because I've been living in cities for the past couple-ish years, and not driving but flying between those places.) And then Dickey mentioned that they're looking for a summer intern out there this summer, to help with office management. Then, the scripture we looked at in Sunday school talked about sheep and hills, etc. - all of creation praising God kind of thing. What better signs, or omens (as Paulo Cohelo refers to them), could you look for? However, my second thoughts are 1) Do I really want to live that far from civilization for a whole summer? and 2) The last time that I "read the signs" (metaphors about finding peace in the silence of the desert, in the Upper Room Daily Reflection), it led me to the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque, which had no internship openings. [Insert Debbie Downer face and tune.] Lesson learned - just because you read something inspirational and have a warm-fuzzy feeling about something, that doesn't mean that it's the best next step. Thus, I'm not sure if a summer in Beersheba is really my best bet for the summer. Note to self: talk to Emily about life at Beersheba.