Saturday, March 26, 2011

A Chair, A Bar, A Cat, and some Quiet

Doug is back from the Psychotherapy Networker Conference, full of good information and some lovely poetry from David Whyte. We had a quiet dinner, suitable for recovery from a long drive and much thinking: beef stew, rolls, salad, red wine. A square of dark chocolate to end with sweetness. It is good to have him home again.

It was good as well, though, to have some alone time in the house. It feels quite snug and safe, even in our sometimes iffy neighborhood, because of the security doors and the stout walls. And I was glad to have silence, only broken by the mewing of Spooky the Chemo Cat. Her meds have made her more active and noisy, and more craving of attention. Still, it was quiet and sweet.

I ran over to the office to do some paperwork and assemble my nifty new office chair, fresh from Guangdong, China, via Staples. A good chair at a good price - I like it!

Because Doug was away, there was no Friday night Date Night, as is our norm, but I went to our local pub for a glass of wine (nice simple Malbec) and a chicken quesadilla. It was full of Friday night noise and activity, but I found a spot at the bar - no reason for me to take up a two-top - and perched on a stool.

I don't much like perching. It always feels like I'm either spilling over both sides of the stool, or am about to fall off.

So I sat there somewhat precariously, waiting for my food, reading "The Year of Living Biblically" while all around me folks were busy violating the many many rules that AJ Jacobs was trying to adhere to in the book. Many F-bombs were dropped, and not just by those watching the UR Spiders getting beat by the Jayhawks. A man sitting on my right (dark, small, may have been from Malaysia or someplace like that) said to me, "You come to a bar on a Friday night and you read a book?" "Mhmm," I replied. "It's restful, even with the noise."

I'm sure he thought I was crazy, and perhaps I was. I was glad when I finished the repast and paid up, and went out into the relative silence of the night. The cool crisp air, the darkness, it was all good.

Today was full of things like laundry, cleaning, the workout at the gym (Saturday is 45 minutes of circuit training on weights and 35 minutes on the treadmill), and finishing the sermon for tomorrow morning.

It was Sabbath, though, in the midst of the busy-ness, because it was quiet. I do need my quiet.

Tomorrow will not be quiet. It will be un-Sabbath for me, pastoring, listening to the subtext beneath people's words, hearing what I need to attend to in the coming week. Hospital visit after church, helping Doug get ready to head out to another conference (American Association of Pastoral Counselors, of which he is president), and planning Monday, which looks to be very busy indeed.

And the week to come includes the monthly newsletter. Thank goodness the Parish Secretary is back to do most of the work on it.

And thank goodness for quiet days, even if there is really no such thing.

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