2011 Review, Part III

September 2011 

Mount Greylock State Reservation, Adams MA

I still vividly remember this moment: hiking to the summit of Massachusetts’ highest peak with a friend, grateful for the shelter of the forest canopy on a damp and misty Saturday, I nearly walked into this leaf. Suspended from an unseen filament, readily explained by natural forces yet defying the normal order of things, it stopped me in my tracks. Neither pictures nor words can do justice to the sense of wonder, disbelief, and intrigued curiosity that seeped up from my soul as gently as the soft autumn moisture continued to trickle down into the sodden woods. During the busy, sometimes frenetic, pace of adjusting to a new job in the midst of a major grant project overseen by a committee whose members I just met, I rarely paid any attention to the subtle changes that were creeping along beneath the more tangible tasks of revising drafts, scheduling meetings, and endlessly refining a budget that boasted more than 100 line items and often drifted perilously close to its $1.6 million ceiling. Though I often felt myself precariously clinging to a newfound platform of work and collaboration, I was in fact gracefully supported by the unseen threads of mentorship, acceptance, patience, and even confidence, on the part of my colleagues and my community. A wondrous thing indeed.

October 2011

Overlook Farm, Clarksville MO

After serving as a spiritual director for Holy Cross students on a five-day silent retreat over fall break, I traveled to St. Louis for a long weekend to attend a good friend’s wedding. On a delightfully perfect autumn day– abundant sunshine, gently crisp air, smells of the harvest pervading the sweeping river valleys carved and watered by the Missisippi– it seemed that every detail had been lovingly crafted for the occasion. Even the propane tank at the farm where the reception was held had been decorated with the couple’s initials and festooned with seasonal accoutrements. The subtle touches of divine splendor, human creativity, and caring hospitality transformed the occasion of a wedding into a celebration of the beauty in strong relationships and the majesty of the season. I learned and appreciated how small, welcoming touches– whether in a room or a landscape, whether for a wedding or a simple visit– make a world of difference, and powerfully express the dignity and goodness of the earth and its people.

November 2011

Thanksgiving Dinner with Family

In my seven and a half years as a Jesuit, this fall was only the third time that I traveled home to South Jersey for Thanksgiving (and later, Christmas) with my family. I’ve grown accustomed to living at a distance, both geographical and otherwise, from my parents, sister, and extended family as my Jesuit life has carried me around the United States and Latin America, and into new realms of intellectual, spiritual, and personal exploration and discovery. Yet as we all grow older– many of my cousins are now married with children, and a growing number of my aunts and uncles are now either grandparents or in their sixties– I’ve been feeling a desire to regain a deeper connection with my family. Laughter and good storytelling abounded at Thanksgiving, and spilled over into informal gatherings– particularly one memorably raucous game night involving just the cousins– throughout the long weekend. I’ve long felt comfortable and at home with my Jesuit family, so much so that it now feels a little odd to hop in the car for the 4.5-hour (5 hours if I’m talking to Mom) drive to South Jersey, even as the brethren disperse to their families after a wonderful Thanksgiving celebration in the community earlier in the week. My connections to my two wonderful families do exist in some tension– they’re each familiar with different aspects of my life story, and I neither can nor desire to shuttle frequently between the two– but they are hardly at odds with one another. That’s a satisfying insight that’s been nourishing me long after the last of the turkey was consumed.

December 2011

Quabbin Reservoir, Hardwick MA

Look carefully… there’s a powerful reflection lurking in this image. With the year drawing to a close, daylight hours faded towards the winter solstice while inner light gently swelled with the graces of the Advent season– hope, gratitude, making room for the new and unexpected. Whereas my life seemed to turn upside down in June amidst a sudden departure from one job and a rapid start in another, the days of December revealed to me the fruitful results of a months-long current of progress– in my apostolic work, in my relationships with others, in my own spiritual depths– that has righted the ship. In a similar vein, amid reflecting on the blessings of companionship and support provided to me by fellow Jesuits, friends, and family throughout the year, I’ve also come to appreciate their gratitude for the blessings that my presence, friendship, and support have bestowed upon them. That’s not a perspective I’m accustomed to taking, yet this reversed view has illuminated some of my best qualities as I continue to navigate a rising tide of confidence, enthusiasm, and connectedness into the uncharted realm of the coming year.