Journey's End

No more journeys for this amma!  

Don't get me wrong, I'm not staying in one place for the rest of my life, "carry me out of the hermitage feet first" or that sort of thing.  It's just that after a lifetime of living out the journey metaphor, I think I'm done with it. Let me explain.

Journey as a metaphor suggests that there is some other place where the good stuff is -- prosperity, the right mate, the best job, even God.  Journeys of discovery, journeys of conquest, even just contemplative rambling all suggest that there is some form of movement involved, that one must go somewhere in order to find what is needed.

I don't believe that any more.  I've put the brakes on, and decided that if God is not Here, and Now, then God is nowhere, and I'm not going to travel around looking for God like a tourist looking for the next cool monument or museum to enjoy.  If what I've been seeking all my life is the Real Thing, then this God is Everywhere, including Here, and is here Now, not later.  Rather than expending energy imagining what the next adventure will be, what the next job, the next home, the next stage in life will be, I will affirm God's presence Here and Now, and I commit to being just as Here as I possibly can.

In part, I blame the dissertation.  If ever there was a goal-oriented, movement-oriented activity in the world, it's writing a dissertation!  Get through this chapter, get to the next chapter, submit, defend, publish, speak, create a new resume (now a CV), apply for a new job -- it's a self-propelled merry-go-round!  In the guise of moving forward, though, I felt I was being seduced into a form of intellectual agitation devoid of any real progress.  If the industry publications are to be believed, there are uncounted legions of PhDs outside of academia, and at my age, the usual paths to success are well and truly closed.

And that's all right.  It was nearly a year ago, just before I completed the dissertation, that I consciously embraced my life as a contemplative, here at the hermitage.  A life of solitude and reflection, an encounter with the God of Here and Now, the only God I can actually trust.  I will trust the call to the Present Moment, affirm the Divine in what is here, and commit to the life that has been given to me.  This.  This.  This is what is.  No more journeys to find something that has been here all the time.