Sunday Worship on the Isthmus

While driving to the beach on Sunday, a trio of young women caught my eye. They were hurrying towards St. Thomas church, I suspect, a little late to 9 o’clock mass. I glanced at my dashboard clock – 9:10 and the church doors were closed. I was a child the last time I made a dash for mass. My relationship with organized religion ended shortly after my confessional encounter with a ‘father’ whose priest name I forgot along with the prayers he’d assigned me as penance for my venial sin. Nothing from that religion ever stuck again.

When Molly was about 6, Neil and I explored a few churches in the neighborhood – me grasping at straws in search of a miracle or at least guidance in navigating the tortuous road we were on. Also, I figured my daughter should get some religious exposure in spite of my own ambivalent faith. We landed for the longest period of time with the Unitarian Church – about the least churchy of all churches. Molly went to religious instruction celebrating the fun holidays of all major religions and that was enough for her. Neil and I both adored the minister who grappled with questions and peppered his contemplations with poetry. The walls were glass and in the warmer months, opened to bird songs and the rustle of leaves, scents and breezes wafting through. There were some fleeting moments of healing there.

Photo courtesy of Molly

I am no longer quite as church-averse as I used to be. I appreciate the value of community and a gathering of like minds toward a peaceful end can be powerful. I feel rich in friendship from different times and circles in my life and treasure shared meals, walks, adventures, laughter, tears. But for contemplation, I have long been content to retreat to my own space – loving the solitude of a kayak on the Sound. But that might be changing. Perhaps it’s my recent yoga-camp stints that opened my mind about finding a community for shared reflection. And prayer? Maybe. But not yet. I will wait to explore this when I’m done with working. For now I have freedom only on weekends and am loathe to sign up for anything that feels required. Yes, that Catholic stuff is hard to shake.

Another by Molly – taken on her recent visit!

I started this with the intention to write about being on the water, not to plunge into my spiritual journey! And yet, as I paddled away from the shoreline across the calm water with only the odd early fisherman speeding by in a motor boat – I exclaimed – this! This! THIS is my church!

Working on my miracle skills. photo credit – Molly

My paddling was strong and the sun felt good – not yet the glaring heat forecast for the afternoon. I quickly made it to a favorite sandbar. An isthmus of rocks and shells. It’s here that the start of the Norwalk islands begins for me and usually as far as my paddling ambition will take me. This morning, as I reached the sandbar, I pulled my plastic boat over the slippery rocks, took off my life-vest, glasses, hat and plunged into the cold water. After a few underwater strokes, the hum of the Sound in my ears, I popped my head out of the water with a gasp as much to express my elation as to gulp in air. This is my baptism! My first swim of the season out there on my own little beach for as long as the tide stays out.

Within hours, this isthmus disappears, rocks and shells clicking and clacking against each other in the waves as the water shifts. The sandy spot and others like it, will emerge and vanish, over and over again, the land shape and me changing with the tides.

Contemplating Monday

Given my druthers and some decent lottery winnings, I’d probably not work a job. I know I’ve said that before, but there, I’ve said it again. I think about this kind of thing as this gorgeous autumn Sunday afternoon turns into twilight and next light will bring us to Monday. Back to work. There seems to be an atmospheric shift in the neighborhood. Kids in a little earlier, the handyman down the street cleaning out his truck, kitchen lights on and I can see the tops of peoples heads. Sunday dinners? Tomorrow’s lunches?

Well, what if I didn’t have to go? What if I had so much bloody dough I could pay for my own insurance and pay my bills forever without worry? Would I spend all my days like I did today? Procrastinating? Not really motivated to do a damn thing?

For a start, I slept a little later than usual. Most weekend mornings, if I don’t have to work, I’ll get up around 7:30 or so and sit myself here and write for a few hours. Not this morning: I hit snooze and kept doing just that. After walking the dog, I sat in front of this screen and sorted through emails I’d been ignoring. I looked at Facebook for longer than I should have. When I finally made it over to Word Press to write a post, I instead trolled other people’s blogs. Later, I did house stuff – laundry and dishes taking a break to read the newspaper in the spectacular autumn sunlight. Lovely. I walked Tetley again, a nice long stroll. Slowly. Not even fast enough to get any cardio benefit. 

Would I while away my days like this if every day? Would I start to watch daytime television? (naa)

Anyway, I don’t  dread the thought of returning to work. I have no pit-of-my stomach ache about Monday. After all, I work with books and people who also love books and write books and buy books. The news that I didn’t win last night’s Powerball did not break my heart. I like my life fine. Certainly, days off are gifts – and it’s okay to sometimes fritter them away like I did today (I think it’s called relaxing). But the sweetness of that time is due to the fact that they are outnumbered by days of work. If every day were my own without expectations, demands – structure, I’d probably get a little fat and a little lonely. 

As the light of this Sunday fades, my structureless bliss passes and my little inner efficiency engine starts to kick on. I start to plan tomorrow and the rest of the week. I have to work late on Wednesday and there’s an event on Saturday, and ugh, we’ve already put out Christmas cards. But all of it’s okay. Besides, I bought 2 lottery tickets yesterday. The drawing for that second one is on Tuesday, so there’s still a chance… 

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