I absolutely cannot believe that 2015 is coming to an
end. This is the time of year when everyone likes to talk about what’s coming
next and New Year’s Resolutions and grand plans and whatnot.
Last year I decided not to do that.
I’m not entirely sure where I first came across the idea, but I chose to do
something along the lines of the My One Word project
in lieu of a New Year’s Resolution. Basically, pick a word and feel its
influence in all areas of your life. Be intentional. See where it goes.
I knew 2015 was going to be different and hard and
stretching and I didn’t want to add anything on top of that. Otherwise this
post would probably look something like this:
(I mean I did move to Texas)
So I picked Challenge.
Mostly because I knew my year would be a challenge – just living it. Writing
the bulk of my thesis in the spring semester, in addition to 16 hours of
coursework, an internship, work and volunteer coaching? Throw in spending time
with friends and getting enough sleep while maintaining an honors GPA and I had my first challenge looming large for the next five months. I worked
hard. I adjusted to not playing soccer anymore and losing one of my best friends by
putting in late nights writing and booking myself busy, often gone from my
apartment from 7:30 in the morning until 9 at night. I used challenge to keep me focused and
motivated, and it worked.
March brought news of my acceptance into the MSIS
program at the University of Texas iSchool. With initial plans to defer enrollment
for a year while staying in Charlotte with the people I love, I was only
somewhat excited. After finding out deferment wasn’t an option, choosing to
enroll for this fall was a challenge: the hard, but right, decision. In April I
completed and presented my thesis, An Examination of Knowledge, Unity and Art
in Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse,
the paper of which I am more proud than anything else I’ve ever written. May
brought finals, packing, Senior Week and, of course, graduation. I was blessed
to have so many family and friends come for graduation, especially as I was
honored as Student of the Year and given the opportunity to address my class
during the ceremony.
Then I had to leave. I cried. I cried during finals. I
cried when I wrote my speech. I cried during Senior
Week. I cried when I was packing. The only day I think I didn’t cry was graduation!
Leaving The Abbey was hands-down one of the most challenging things I have ever
done in my life.
Then I spent June and July in Greenwich, NY, interning
with Episcopalian nuns: practicing the Benedictine way of life and spending an
absurd amount of time with goats. I thought I understood Benedictine life. I mean seriously, I went to a Benedictine
school. I knew it would be different and challenging in its own right, but
I kinda thought I had this one. It turns out my understanding of the
Benedictine life looked kind of like this:
(which,
apparently, is not an entirely holistic view of things)
So waking up for 6:30a prayers, silence after 7:30p, going
vegetarian two days a week plus trying to practice actual Benedictine balance, in addition to trying to enroll in
classes, find roommates and get a job all while being half a country away
turned out to be more challenging than I thought. I missed my family and I
missed my friends and I missed my comfortable community back in North Carolina.
But, I learned so much about being
over doing and about the foundations of community and the importance of rest.
Plus, we squeezed in a quick trip to Maine the first weekend in August before I
left for Texas, which I loved with my whole heart.
In September I started my life in Austin: taking
classes at the iSchool, moving in with my new roommates, working as a nanny and
getting a library card. The kids were crazy and my classes were pretty
terrible. I suffered from sickness and allergies and reactions to medication. I
raged against becoming a grown-up and its associated responsibilities. I cried
and almost crumpled under the challenge of starting something new. I missed my
family and I missed my friends and I missed my comfortable community. But,
slowly, things started to improve. October blessed me with budding friendships
and a beautiful worship community at an Anglican church plant in south Austin.
November reminded me to be thankful amidst the busy-ness of life and to embrace the Sacred Ordinary Days that we
live.
And now here I am. My year of challenge is over and honestly, I am relieved. There have been so many times I asked God “WHY DID I
PICK CHALLENGE?!” and cried out, “I JUST WANT ONE THING TO BE EASY!” There were
times I was run too ragged by my own life that I failed to feel sympathy for
tragedies outside of my immediate circles, and I felt a little guilty about
that.
But these big, hard, challenges can’t dominate the
picture of my year. They drove it, yes, but they also drove me to Christ. More
than anything this year I have been forced to be present. I have been so swept
up in whatever challenge lay ahead that I have had little time to dwell on the
past or look to the future. Instead, I have lived in what Virginia Woolf calls ‘the
cotton wool of daily life,’ living the process rather than focusing on the
product. I realized that St. Benedict saw the nitty-gritty ordinary life and
called it holy. I ditched my fancy, expensive, color-coded day-week-month planner
for some random calendar from Wal-Mart in the Spring and absolutely nothing for the rest of the year. There were days I told
my mom that I had no idea what I would be doing in three days. I made plans
spur-of-the-moment. I tried to live with my “people always come first” mantra
more intentionally. I journaled. All the time. And I read. More than I wrote.
I’ve been trying to appreciate the moment.
Every shared meal. Every late night conversation. Every walk. Every book. Every
bit of unexpected silence. Every rainbow. Every extra few minutes of sleep. Every
smile from a child. Each and every cuddle (goat or human!).
These are ordinary things. These are the simple,
everyday happenings that allow for the extraordinary and make up a life. Going
to work is ordinary. But today I read The
Witches with the 8 year old and the 6 year old for two hours and at dinner
they both said that was their favorite part today. And that – that is
extraordinary.
I still don’t understand balance. But I am thankful
that the Benedictine way of life is something we practice, not master. I am
thankful for the weeks I can go to weekday Eucharist and take time to read for
fun. I still don’t appreciate every beautiful moment. But I am thankful that I can
see small things as sacred and substantive.
My days now are messy, challenging and ordinary. I
feed my fish, go to work, run errands, do some schoolwork and try to spend time
with family and friends. Sometimes I feel like I make decisions based on this logic:
But these messy days are what really dominate the picture of my year. Countless hours spent in professors’ offices, on friends’ couches, around the
kitchen table. Thousands of conversations in person, over phone, text or video
chat. Stories shared. Meals cooked (or at least in some way prepared, even if
it’s just opening packages). Days filled with love. Love that is always
radical, always extraordinary and always worth the price.
The big challenges are definitely what I envisioned
this time last year.
But the true challenge was stepping into this
ordinary, extraordinary, life of mine.
I can’t wait to do it again in 2016.
Cheers,
Tana
