what am i doing here? ( + a laugh.)

I have a few minutes before tonights ''inner space'' service begins to jot a few lines about LIFE -- in the abbey.

first of all:

majority of my thought life has been revolving around getting into my dish washing- bed changing- toilet bowl cleaning routine: BUT, there is only so much of your brain that can be contained by such things, so I am experiencing the most brilliant amount of freedom to just BE. think. get inspired.

i have spent the majority of the past few days, while traps-ing through sheep terds from the sheep and cows that are allowed to roam free on the iona community property, feeling like god has marooned me somehow on this scrawny, craggy island for some kind of purpose. while i imagined iona to be remote, i was not quiiiiiite expecting the 3 hour train ride from glasgow, to the hour long ferry ride, to another hour long bus ride through cliffs and the only unmarked road, to another hour ferry ride.

i was also not expecting this incredibly grounding sense of calm -- calm and family -- when i arrived. while i didn't have this automatic dramatic spiritual breakthrough or sense of the divine, i almost, to be honest, felt like i came home, to a certain extent. i can't quote put my finger on it -- maybe it was the accomodation, whose bright colors, murals, kitschy spiritual art trinkets, piles of stones and mosaic furniture reminded me of the gesundheit collective i stayed in in college. maybe it was the presence of the STUFFED craft room, smell of the fresh lavender soap, or the fact that people on my housekeeping cohort already knew my name.

my sense, however, is that somewhere from giving god thanks for a rich, vegan, cuscous and curry and the moment of silence for thanksgiving offered collectively at the end of the meal, that this ''order'' -- one that celebrates and affirms life as much in the secular as in the sacred, (if there is a difference.) feels like people i have already known for a long time.

the inner space service i need to pop off to is being led by an american woman -- former struggling actress who now lives in vermont, who has promised to tell me the story of when she was taken to jail regarding some interlude with patriarchy, civil disobedience, and first class sections on airplanes. she has written a play: on women of the bible, and has involved my other residents: soul artist from sweden, canadian flautist, american poet.

YAY!