I was woken up this morning by the sound of the wind howling around the apartment building I am currently living in. I peeked through the curtains to see rain pelting the glass, melting snow, slush, and grey skies so solid you couldn't find a dot of blue if you used a magnifying glass. After a quick breakfast, some prayers to prepare for the next day of the Baha'i Fast, and a lovely hot shower I bundled up and headed out to catch the bus downtown. This morning I walked Chloe in the rain -- wearing a miniature raincoat! The two of us set out, spashing through puddles, slipping over thin layers of melting slush and ice, my hair blowing every which way. Her ears flapping. I had to smile at the two of us out there getting drenched in the rain.
Last night my friends did something incredible for me. They hosted a supper at their home, followed by a round of prayers to support me in my job-search efforts. Sitting in their warm living room surrounded by seven people all of whom I consider to be family rather than friends, I felt so humbled and moved by the fact that I have friends who care so deeply about my efforts to re-establish myself here on the island. After a delicious meal of hot curry and rice we sat and said some prayers. It is difficult to communicate how moving it is to sit in a room bathed in warm light and, with my eyes closed, and listen to the voices of my friends praying for my success in this process of finding full time work. Gratitude does not even begin to describe the feeling of having friends who love me so much that they are willing to take time out of their busy lives to come together and lend their spiritual energies to my enterprise.
After our prayers we enjoyed hot apple crisp dribbled with yoghurt and cups of tea while we shared stories and experiences from our lives, laughter, and our thoughts/hopes/desires for the days ahead.
The past few weeks have been incredibly difficult, and at the same time incredibly blessed. I still do not know how things will turn out, but I have this very definite certainty that I am in the right place, and that I need to just keep moving forward towards my goal, and that the pieces will eventually fall into place. This afternoon a friend who owns a tea company called to ask me if I would be willing to fill in for a sick employee at the farmer's market tomorrow! Making tea! I cannot wait! I get to go learn how to operate the machines this afternoon! This evening I will attend a youth group that I help facilitate. And tomorrow night I am babysitting a sweet two-year-old while his parents get to go out on a much-needed date! My social media work is continuing to go well. I am reading lots of books and taking webinars to continue improving my knowledge so that I can better serve my clients, and I am beginning to start contemplating my dream of owning a farm again. Yup. Life is good. Cannot wait for my tea-making lesson!
About Me
- RoutesofPresence
- Born in the US, raised on the Mediterranean island of Cyprus, lived in Italy, the US, and Canada. Lover of language, travel, colour, and the natural world.
Showing posts with label prayers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayers. Show all posts
Friday, March 9, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Wind, ramblings & a 2nd day of fasting
It is late Saturday night. I am sitting on the single bed in the apartment that I just moved into a couple of days ago. It is exceptionally quiet. Walking back into my bedroom tonight I feel a sense of relief to be entering a space that will probably remain the same for at least a couple of months. Since arriving on Prince Edward Island two months ago I have been moving back and forth between the homes of various friends -- trying to not overstay my welcome in any one place, just staying long enough to start remembering whether I should leave the toilet seat up or down, which burner on the stove I should not use, or which direction the cutlery should go into the dishwasher before I would move again and have to adjust my patterns to a new household. Don't get me wrong -- living with my friends has been awesome. Truly. Not only have a been staying in homes that are comfortable and cozy, filled with beautiful artwork, but I have gotten to come home at the end of every day and enjoy the company of people I love. But despite all of this, I have to say that it is nice to have my own space for a change -- even if it is almost completely empty.
The room that is currently home is bigger than any bedroom I have ever had before. One of my best friends loaned me a single bed, a table and a chair. I took a plastic box that I found in the cupboard and put it next to my bed as my bedside table, and another friend loaned me a little lamp. One end of the room is an enormous closet -- so big that I can literally get dressed inside of it (yes, I have tried). I arrived two days ago with one suitcase, a backpack, and a bag of food. It took me an hour to unpack my two pairs of jeans, one skirt, two dresses, four pairs of shoes, two sweaters, and ten shirts. Sitting on my bed looking around the room I feel a mixture of emotions: profound gratitude to the friend who asked her aunt if I could live in her spare bedroom for free for a couple of months while I continue to search for full-time work, and to her aunt who actually agreed; amazement that I am still here despite the reality that I have less money than I have ever had my entire life; disoriented in this large room with four white walls and almost no furniture; uncertainty about how I got here when only two months ago I was sitting in an overly-furnished room in my parents' home in northern California; and an equal amount of terror over my current reality and vulnerability, and deep-rooted certainty and faith that things are going exactly as they should be, and that I just need to put my trust in God and keep trying my hardest.
The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. I have stayed at five different houses; trekked through deep snow; been blown along the sidewalk by freezing wind; eaten meals in restaurants, homes, bars, and coffee houses; seen foxes running across a frozen river at dusk; woken to the sound of frozen rain against the glass of my windows; met with at least fifty different people and given them my resume; reverted to my legs as my primary mode of transportation; started helping with a youth group; contacted complete strangers about pet-sitting, babysitting, cleaning, and any other cash-making venture that I could come up with; watched every single one of my recently-arrived-on-the-island friends get interviews and job offers; started doing social media for Timothy's coffee house and Lobster on the Wharf for free; continued doing social media work for two other companies; created my own social media business website; studied books about social media marketing; been given so many people's house keys that I have to wade through fist-fulls of them to find the ones to my current apartment; gotten locked out of my current apartment because my new set of keys would not open my door and my friend's aunt was asleep in bed; developed a crush on a man who slept through what I had thought was going to be our first date; hosted my first musical devotional gathering; cooked supper for friends in many different houses; enjoyed many, many excellent cups of tea at the farmer's market in the company of awesome friends on Saturday morning after Saturday morning; learned to walk my friends' dogs and pick up (and discard) dog shit (an activity I had assured my friends years ago that I would NEVER engage in); made a snow angel; enjoyed many, many meals/coffee dates with people I love; had my bank balance fall below 30 dollars for the first time in my entire life; learned to love almond butter on toast; taken a bus from downtown out to the farm I used to work before dawn, on and spent the day baking gluten-free muffins with my former employer's mother in the farmhouse kitchen; destroyed almost every pair of shoes I brought here with me in the salty slush on the roads; read the book The Help. Read the book The Memory Keeper's Daughter. Lay in bed listening to the wind howling around the building (as I am tonight); wondered how I got back here and whether the universe is going to allow me to stay, or if every effort I make to find work here will end in another dead-end; wondered where I will go if I have to leave here at the end of April...and these are only SOME of the things that have happened in the past few weeks.
Today was the second day of the Baha'i Fast. I woke before dawn, ate almond butter toast and sat in the silence of the half-light before sunrise praying and reading from the Baha'i writings before deciding to go back to bed for a couple more hours. I am trying to remain present and conscious of the preciousness of these days i am immersed in. Spiritually the fast is, according to the Baha'i writings, generating power that will be reverberating through my life for the entire rest of the year. It is hard to remember that every hour has a special significance, but when I do it helps me to slow down and be aware of how precious every moment of these 19 days of fasting is. I have always thought of the Fast as being from sunrise til sunset, but this Fast I am realising that even the hours when I am eating during this period count as part of the Fast. Even sitting here now typing with the wind howling outside I am trying to be aware of the significance of this night, this hour, and that I will be up again in six hours preparing for another day of Fasting.
It is almost midnight, and time to get some rest before the third dawn of the Fast. Outside wind pressing around the building. In here the sound of my fingers moving across the keys, my own breathing, the creak of floor boards as someone walks across the floor above.
The room that is currently home is bigger than any bedroom I have ever had before. One of my best friends loaned me a single bed, a table and a chair. I took a plastic box that I found in the cupboard and put it next to my bed as my bedside table, and another friend loaned me a little lamp. One end of the room is an enormous closet -- so big that I can literally get dressed inside of it (yes, I have tried). I arrived two days ago with one suitcase, a backpack, and a bag of food. It took me an hour to unpack my two pairs of jeans, one skirt, two dresses, four pairs of shoes, two sweaters, and ten shirts. Sitting on my bed looking around the room I feel a mixture of emotions: profound gratitude to the friend who asked her aunt if I could live in her spare bedroom for free for a couple of months while I continue to search for full-time work, and to her aunt who actually agreed; amazement that I am still here despite the reality that I have less money than I have ever had my entire life; disoriented in this large room with four white walls and almost no furniture; uncertainty about how I got here when only two months ago I was sitting in an overly-furnished room in my parents' home in northern California; and an equal amount of terror over my current reality and vulnerability, and deep-rooted certainty and faith that things are going exactly as they should be, and that I just need to put my trust in God and keep trying my hardest.
The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. I have stayed at five different houses; trekked through deep snow; been blown along the sidewalk by freezing wind; eaten meals in restaurants, homes, bars, and coffee houses; seen foxes running across a frozen river at dusk; woken to the sound of frozen rain against the glass of my windows; met with at least fifty different people and given them my resume; reverted to my legs as my primary mode of transportation; started helping with a youth group; contacted complete strangers about pet-sitting, babysitting, cleaning, and any other cash-making venture that I could come up with; watched every single one of my recently-arrived-on-the-island friends get interviews and job offers; started doing social media for Timothy's coffee house and Lobster on the Wharf for free; continued doing social media work for two other companies; created my own social media business website; studied books about social media marketing; been given so many people's house keys that I have to wade through fist-fulls of them to find the ones to my current apartment; gotten locked out of my current apartment because my new set of keys would not open my door and my friend's aunt was asleep in bed; developed a crush on a man who slept through what I had thought was going to be our first date; hosted my first musical devotional gathering; cooked supper for friends in many different houses; enjoyed many, many excellent cups of tea at the farmer's market in the company of awesome friends on Saturday morning after Saturday morning; learned to walk my friends' dogs and pick up (and discard) dog shit (an activity I had assured my friends years ago that I would NEVER engage in); made a snow angel; enjoyed many, many meals/coffee dates with people I love; had my bank balance fall below 30 dollars for the first time in my entire life; learned to love almond butter on toast; taken a bus from downtown out to the farm I used to work before dawn, on and spent the day baking gluten-free muffins with my former employer's mother in the farmhouse kitchen; destroyed almost every pair of shoes I brought here with me in the salty slush on the roads; read the book The Help. Read the book The Memory Keeper's Daughter. Lay in bed listening to the wind howling around the building (as I am tonight); wondered how I got back here and whether the universe is going to allow me to stay, or if every effort I make to find work here will end in another dead-end; wondered where I will go if I have to leave here at the end of April...and these are only SOME of the things that have happened in the past few weeks.
Today was the second day of the Baha'i Fast. I woke before dawn, ate almond butter toast and sat in the silence of the half-light before sunrise praying and reading from the Baha'i writings before deciding to go back to bed for a couple more hours. I am trying to remain present and conscious of the preciousness of these days i am immersed in. Spiritually the fast is, according to the Baha'i writings, generating power that will be reverberating through my life for the entire rest of the year. It is hard to remember that every hour has a special significance, but when I do it helps me to slow down and be aware of how precious every moment of these 19 days of fasting is. I have always thought of the Fast as being from sunrise til sunset, but this Fast I am realising that even the hours when I am eating during this period count as part of the Fast. Even sitting here now typing with the wind howling outside I am trying to be aware of the significance of this night, this hour, and that I will be up again in six hours preparing for another day of Fasting.
It is almost midnight, and time to get some rest before the third dawn of the Fast. Outside wind pressing around the building. In here the sound of my fingers moving across the keys, my own breathing, the creak of floor boards as someone walks across the floor above.
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