I tried to not be jealous.
I wanted to fly to Florida to visit my bestie, Nurse Starbucks. But it just did not work out. Instead, I texted her countless Friends quotes just to annoy her. She and I can have multi-day text conversations that consist only of Friends quotes.
If there is ever a "Friends" Olympics, we are so there. We would conquer.
So because I have a round of terrifying exams looming, I chose to stay home and study. I have a five-hour written exam over moral theology and its concepts on July 7. Then on July 21, I have a two-hour oral exam over the entire Master's degree. I think I can wing the written exam but the oral exam is giving me pause. I'm scared to death. The key subject matter areas are Scripture (and as a faithful Catholic, I suck at Scripture), Dogmatic Theology (whose classes I dreaded and only completed with the assistance of Aquinas. The nice red wine, not the saint and doctor of the Church), Ecclesiology (which, surprisingly, I picked up in Rome and at the Vatican. So that has to count for brownie points, right?), Sacramental Theology (I think I will be okay here, it's hard to mess up the seven sacraments), Church History (of which I took ONE class...and we were in Florida for two weeks that semester so all I remember is "studying" the Ecumenical Councils with a hard lemonade next to me...), and Moral Theology. I have to know and apply the precepts of moral theology daily for my ethicist gig. But I'm afraid I will miss key concepts or verbiage. I decided to make a study guide out of the "suggested studies" topics for the oral comprehensives.
With each question given 4 "returns," the study guide I made is 41 pages.
Joy. Happy, happy, joy, joy.
So while Jack was on his Jackweekend, what better time to start my study guide? Honestly, I sort of enjoyed the refresher in ecclesiology and moral theology (where I started yesterday and today) and instead of pulling St. Thomas Aquinas off the shelf of my bookcase, I grabbed my copy of "the Shack" and enjoyed that not-quite-theologically-correct treatise on the Trinity. That counts as studying, right?
When I wasn't studying (or "studying"), I exercised. My lungs are finally healed from my bronchitis-tonsilitis-pneumonia wannabe-mularky and I could run. I ran! Cue the "Flock of Seagulls" here - "and I ran, I ran so far away!" I was on my newly-repaired treadmill and my lungs were so grateful for the A/C instead of the "it's so humid that it could storm at any point" central Indiana air these days. Not complaining; it will be snowing in 5 months. But man, it's so hot outside that I just want to take my clothes off and play in the sprinkler. Our pool opened a couple weeks ago but I'm so over the sun these days...I've known about 5 people who were diagnosed with skin cancer this year alone.
What I really wanted to talk about was being alone. Because of my job transitions and the like, I am used to living alone. I am at ease with myself and do not get lonely. If I feel the twinges of loneliness, I put in a movie or play some upbeat 80's rock to make me feel centered and grounded.
Except that yesterday, both the Directv and internet stopped working. Holy hell, was I camping?
That is how I define camping. A lack of wifi. [muuh-haa-haa]
So what was I to do? I did what any sophisticated, secure woman would do. I poured myself a glass of wine (on ice), lit the tiki torches on the patio out front, and started yet another book. Check me out! I can open my own bottle of wine! Yay! With a (gasp) CD playing that I had to dig out of the boxes from college. [Hello, Gogo's! Bananarama!] But while I sat there reading, I kept thinking of Cheryl Strayed from "Wild." Have you read that book? It's a goodie, sort of like "Eat Pray Love"...but on a mountain trail...without food...and without praying. It's actually like "Hike, Find Water, Sleep." But whatever, the story is so magnetic. I see myself in Cheryl, wanting to conquer these massive mountains without the pedigree or proper equipment. And yet, she keep going, with a triathelete's endurance and mental perserverence rivaling the most tenured coreman.
"Wild" reminds me of a cross between "Eat Pray Love" and "Rudy." Minus the Irish Guard and football. But man, the Irish Guard would have made "Wild" more pretty. Ha.
I'm quite comfortable alone and wouldn't mind a solo journey someplace somewhat wild. By wild, I mean a place that has running water, bathrooms, beds, potable water, and regularly-occuring food. Jack has expressed several times that he wants to hike the El Camino, the Way of St. James, in Spain. Maybe that's a memoir I'll write as I journey through the hostels and homes of those who shelter pilgrims. Oh wait, that's already been done, it's called "The Way."
That's the trend I am noticing....I am entranced by other peoples' journeys. Their path to self-discovery and fulfillment...it's never easy and offers enough obstables that they can publish a book and /or sell a multi-million dollar story line.
My life is a journey. I've been touched by death recently, with the sudden passing of my father. I received papers in the mail yesterday, from a lawyer up in his neck of the woods. They requested that I relinquish my right to his estate because my "stepmom" wants to administer his estate. There was no will. Of course there was no will. But while the act is just a step in the probate courts' administration of his worldly assets, it feels so final. To be served papers about "your father's estate," it hits home hard. There will be no chance of reconciliation on this earth. His wife wants to cut all ties with me, legally. There is probably money out there that I should inherit but do I want the strings attaching me to that money? Probably not. On one hand, it's freeing. I am truly free of that family, of the guilt, of the obligation to "honor my father" even though he seemingly did not want me. I have chosen to forgive him, to remove my hands from around his neck. He deserves peace and it's beyond me to judge what he did with his life.
But I can still decide what I do with mine. I'm on a journey and wherever it takes me, I'm trusting in God, that God knows what he is doing. Whether I hike the El Camino, the hills of Assisi, or just the rolling hills of suburban Indianapolis, the journey will not be in vain.
Nope. This is wonderfully and totally worth it.
