The last post

Some of you have only had time to pop in here occasionally.  And some of you have been walking with me since August.  Still others among you fall somewhere in-between.  But no matter where you land on this spectrum, I'm grateful to you.  Thank you.

When I began this blog, I did so with modest expectations and an admittedly chirpy intro.  (For goodness' sake, I used footnotes.)

As the months passed, I was continually surprised by how many of you were following me.  As I had expected, this space became a helpful place for me to process all that I was experiencing, especially after the end of October.  (Also, I scrapped the footnotes.)

Today, I write in an attempt to close this chapter with some grace.  A few friends in Galway have actually asked if I plan to continue the blog, because - imagine this - they like my writing.  I have toyed with the idea.  It might be a good way, after all, to keep them in the loop.  And writing is one of the best ways that I process.

Why waking up early can be rewarding

5:30 am: Silence usually spooks me before it stills me.

Regardless of the context - conversation, driving, trying to sleep, writing, studying - I generally need a fair amount of time to settle into silence.  There's something about the early morning hours, though, that renders all of that settling-time unnecessary.

In the interest of full disclosure: it could be the coffee, kicking in.

I'm strongly considering a refill.

But it could also be this hush, this undisturbed calm before all of the day's demands begin to clamor into the places where they ought to back off, thank you very much.

Distraction...or avoidance?

The periods of distraction are growing longer and longer.  This weekend, in fact, was one long loverly distraction.  Here are some specifics:

I baked a walnut-cinnamon apple crumble,

began to journal in this gift from one of my friends here,

and, on Sunday morning, sang (yes, sang!) soul-settling Christmas music with a family I will miss dearly.  (I wish I had a photo of us to post here for you - that, I suppose, will come in time.  But trust me - if I ever return to Galway, it will be to visit this family.)

Kerry, Part I: lime trees and turrets

That's right - they added a door at Bunratty Castle just for me.

I'm back in Galway again, friends, after another weekend trip.  Pardon my absence, if you would; there were many moments this past week when I wanted to write, but sensed that what I needed was to be still.  Indeed, I've been wondering lately whether, in fact, I should be spending these months (i.e. this time away from friends and family) learning how to be still...how to be silent...how to rest.  I am easily overwhelmed by the loudness in silence, but press on nonetheless.

Mussels made of yarn

I went to the beach today!

This morning at the student center, I ran into two ERASMUS students (two girls - L from Germany and L from Italy) whom I met a few nights ago, and they suggested that we meet later that afternoon to make our way down to the bayside.  Although I was quite taken by the idea of leaving campus – especially to go to the beach – my knee-jerk reaction was to balk (internally).  I don’t know if I really want to hang out with these girls, I thought…and instantly, shame overtook me as I realized I was hesitating because I wasn’t sure that these potential friendships would “pay off”.  Take your eyes off yourself, I chided myself.  Quit thinking in terms of how your relationships can serve you; that’s no way to treat people.  You want friends?  This is how you make friends.  You’re only going to connect with people if you actually spend time with them…and you’ve got to keep your eyes on them, not yourself.  Get yourself off that high horse, girl – you could learn something today.  And even if you don’t, not all will be lost – I mean, you’re going to the beach!

Moving to the rhythm

Time to go home!

When I rolled over in bed this morning, groping around on my nightstand so I could hit "snooze" on my cell phone alarm, this was the first thought that crossed my mind.  And then I realized - again - that until December, I’m here.  For the next fifteen weeks, I’m here, and so much that is important to me…is not.  In the grand scheme of things, four months isn't a very long time; that's certainly true.  But, you see: Rishi isn’t here.  My friends aren’t here (except for Teresa, of course, but there are other people, obviously.)  
My church isn’t here.  Union isn’t here.  My guitar isn’t here.

Finally on the outside looking in

Yesterday, I attended the international students’ orientation.  This was just the kind of official, structured welcome that I’ve been waiting for over the past few days.  After the expected exhortations to live each day of this short experience to the fullest, to interact with the Irish students, and to get involved in campus events, I heard a series of presenters speak all morning on topics like registration, “societies” (clubs), and volunteering.  At this point, I was vividly reminded of how it felt to be a first-year at Union (especially during that first month).

I'll always be partial to Union, of course...but this place isn't too shabby-looking, either.

Despite the crazy amount of introductory information being thrown at me, though, I was relieved to finally hear a sort of overview of what life here is supposed to look like.