1 post tagged “carl larsson”
Monday July 14th, 2008
It's 6am, the day I leave for Seattle and the eve of my flight to London.
I have scheduled my hostel for two nights and made additional contacts
to my relatives in Stockholm. I had a whirlwind of errands under my belt
during a 12 hour rush Sunday and I have everything I (think I) need for my trip...
except for my passport.
I've turned over/inside out every container, backpack, envelope, portfolio, coffee mug
looking for the yellow envelope that has been the permanent home to my passport
for over four years. The envelope has never left a particular box, and never been out
of my site, until now. I had glimpsed the yellow envelope just before it was crammed
into the back of my Subaru, yet maintained an eerie feeling of unrest until that
Saturday afternoon when I went searching for it. I immediately called Becky and
frantically asked if she could search her place (my previous residence for the month
of June) for the important folder. Of course, the yellow envelope I had reassuringly
secured in my car was for something completely different, an insurance form and a
letter from North Shore thanking me for my time during the initial interview. In the
mess of all of my things, I was reminded of an article Adam (he and Tommy are
friends of mine who are concerned with living without "stuff") mentioned about a
man who pars down his belongings to 100 things.
Here is the article from the RedEye: http://redeye.chicagotribune.com/red-062508-things-main,0,2507304.story
Early Monday morning, after dreading in all of my Catholic guilt, the impending cancellation of my trip, and the difficult logistical dance I would perform to get a new passport in record time I received another call from Becky. The passport was still missing and we commiserated over the phone while crafting a new plan. She has always been so good about calming me down, and organizing my
thoughts during the rush of particularly hectic moment. She has a way
of seeing like no one else I've ever met, and hearing her voice on the phone always makes me smile...I racked my brain for several minutes while listening to her rifle through more and more of her own boxes and storage.
After recollecting other details about the envelope she happened upon a bag shoved into the corner of a closet she goes into every three years or so. Suddenly. She found it.
Among the dusty mannequins, old floor lamps, boxes of photographs was an errant Whole Foods bag that had been neglected in the packing process, because of its odd location. Becky was kind enough to stow away my things for the Good-Bye BBQ while I was teaching at camp, with masterful organizational skill, cramming everything (delicately) into an unbelievably small space. Having not touched the bag myself in a few weeks I didn't remember it, and because it was the *only* brown bag in my assortment of belongings, it remained unknown to us.
The passport is now en route to Portland where my mother, previously clenching hands and jaw, is rejoicing at her daughter's extended stay. I'm happy to be parked in my hometown for an additional two weeks before leaving. It'll give me some time to job hunt, and hammer out some details on camping and hiking in Sweden. It's also allowed me a chance to connect with my oldest relatives in Sweden and hopefully secure a visit to my ancestors related to Carl Larsson
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_Larsson
This whole experience has been eye opening for me. I have spent the last two months flying through my daily activity, cramming every last minute with a meet-up or a get together, or some other sundry social thing. And/or favors or jobs in fear of running out of money for the trip...now I'll be out way more money than intended for the replacement ticket. So strange/funny how the world works.. I haven't had the time to sink into planning or even just relaxing. I'm appreciative of the additional income afforded to me by the NSCDS camp, but insodoing lost hours and hours of preparatory time...
In the Quaker faith there is this term used called Way Opens.
Here's a post from a Quaker faith-based blog. Though I don't consider myself religious, it has an interested pique that can be related to here:
[Way Opens has] become almost a Quaker cliché.
That truth is the belief that God’s revelation, even in and integral to daily life, continues for those
who seek God’s way. God is at work within and around us, leading, guiding, sometimes when
we least expect or feel it.
wait for guidance, to avoid hasty judgment or action, to wait for future circumstances to help solve
a problem. The spiritual guidance which may come in a time of seeking or entirely unexpectedly,
bringing suggestion for previously unforeseen action.”
help us make major life decisions – careers, life partners – and minor ones, as way opens is about
a form of Christian discernment that takes us to the heart of the Christian life as living in God's will.
t’s about discovering a fresh and deeper way to live a God directed life – a life that eschews simple
spiritual solutions and takes us to the deepest, most soulful parts of our being.
(http://holyordinary.blogspot.com/2007/06/as-way-opens.html)
The idea of "waiting for guidance, to avoid hasty judgment or action" pertains literally to my situation, but affords other modes or ideas of thought in respect to what I've gone through. Way opens is a kind of blessing of truth given in sometimes unforeseen moments to elucidate a situation or future situations. It's almost like nirvana, but not as untouchable, or intense..? The bottom line is that the perceived "losing" of my passport before an event I've planned and looked forward to for months, is a sign or moment of way opens: I need to slow down.
I cannot take on everything, all the time for everyone.
I need to relax and live in the moment more, and forgive
myself when I cannot do everything all the time.
I need to simplify...
I feel I've learned an incredible amount in these past two days. It has felt good to slow down, and to sink into all the time I will have-- I will need, to pay for my replacement ticket and do proper research to come up with another plan. My experience at North Shore showed me that any free time was not really free ("There's no such thing as a Free Period"?) It wasn't enough just to teach my classes, and teach them well.. I lived and breathed that school for two full years. Now I need to slow down. There's a Paul Simon refrain that comes to mind, I think it's from the "Bridge Over Troubled Water" album Slow down, you move too fast/you've got to make the moment last...
The People magazine waiting for me in the lobby of my mechanic (Bill at Morton Grove auto, he rocks) housed within its pages an article about the new trend of women addicted to stress. After the feminist movement of the sixties and seventies women began taking more powerful roles in the work place, adopting more responsibilities. And yet they maintained previous ones: such as the role of mother, etc.. not even mothers, but women who involve themselves in every minute of every day-- become addicted to this rush as it pumps adrenaline into our bodies to cope with the stress of activity. A woman writes that in the moments where she did nothing her self-esteem plummeted. It was the thrill of the work she did that gave her validation. If she wasn't helping someone, bettering herself, her garden or her ability to do the perfect standing mountain pose, she felt worthless. I can definitely relate to this woman's story, and find myself feeling especially down when I am not doing some Thing.. or working as hard as I possibly can.. My trip will hopefully allow me some reprieve and reflection as I attempt to discover more about who I am and where I've come from slowly, and without an onslaught of obligations.
Today I'm purchasing my new tickets with a voucher from US Airways, and going on a long bike ride awaiting, patiently, the arrival of my passport from Chicago.. My trip to Sweden will happen, but in the meantime I'm enjoying the mental and emotional space.
