"I want singleness of eye, a purity of intention, a central core to my life that will enable me to carry out all my obligations and activities as well as I can. I want, in fact -- to borrow from the language of the saints -- to live 'in grace' as much of the time as possible. I am not using this term in a strictly theological sense: by grace I mean an inner harmony, essentially spiritual, which can be translated into outward harmony. I am seeking, perhaps, what Socrates asked for in the prayer from the Phaedrus when he said, 'May the outward and inward man be one.' I would like to achieve a state of inner spiritual grace from which I could function and give as I was meant to in the eyes of God."
~Anne Morrow Lindbergh, A Gift from the Sea
Last Friday, I finally finished writing the book on simplicity. Or at least I finished the first draft and sent it off for editing and suggestions. Several months ago this project was the final straw that broke my back, but today it feels like a generous gift from God. It feels like a friend who has pulled me from a burning building. I am grateful to be keeping company with the many voices I have encountered along the way, voices like the one I've quoted above. They are gentle voices, at least most of them are, and even when they've called on me to loosen my death-grip on things I imagined I needed, they've been friendly and patient.
In fact, I feel as though I am discovering my life, the life that was buried under so much debris and years of accumulated trivialities. I am discovering the delicious joy of reading and writing, not the kind of reading and writing that I've done most of my life, the required texts of a profession. No. I am reading novels and poets and journals of saints. And I am writing things that flow out of the center of me, the way I am when I'm most deeply myself. I'm learning to be at home with my limitations and my talents. To quote God, it is all "very good".
I'm still suspended between places, still losing my home, but I'm not worried. Dave and I will land wherever we land and it will be just fine. And I'm still dealing with THAT, as much as I can tolerate and mostly through writing. It will work its way out in its own good time. Next Tuesday I have to go in to have a follow-up chest CT and I meet with a lung specialist on Thursday, but I'm confident that they'll give me a clean bill of health. And even if they don't, I'll be OK. Finally, I'm just satisfied to be exactly where I am.
So that brings us to today, and we've arrived here in less than ten installments. The scoop is officially told. You see, I've learned to stop when I'm done. Aren't you glad?