5.6
It's difficult for me to find the words to encompass the past few weeks at St. Dorothy's Rest, and something inside me has prevented me from writing. But here I am, because I know later on I will be thankful for every piece of evidence I can look back on that this year happened and was very real, even if this kind of evidence feels a bit contrived.
It is beautiful here and often I feel as though I'm living in a dream. We're surrounded by fields of green and tall trees that reflect the sunlight in the most perfect way. Often I walk out to a look out spot at the perimeter of the property at the end of day and watch the sky change colors ever so subtly. The sunsets here don't scream at you, like they did in Vegas. There are no explosions of color, no lava or cotton candy pouring out of the clouds, or if there are, we can't see them from where we are. Instead, it's the slightest change from baby blue to light grey to pale pink, a change so delicate it could easily be dismissed if you are not paying attention. Perhaps it is reflective of our lives here, where things gravitate towards simplicity and subtlety, where the world whispers its love to you rather than screams it across the sky.
We've been working at the food bank, helping at food distributions and maintaining the warehouse. It gets monotonous, but overall the work is rewarding and structured. My favorite day so far has been the "empty bowls" charity event. We spent the week before preparing the warehouse for it, scrubbing down the Food Bank's prized semi-automatic truck which became the centerpiece for the event, making the floors and walls spotless and setting up strings of Christmas lights on the ceiling. It all came together beautifully, and by the day of the event the whole building was completely transformed into a place suitable for rich people to dine and schmooze and spend a bunch of money in. This past week, we also started working at habitat, and boy is that the good stuff! First of all, I learned Habitat loves giving people free food. Second of all, when we work there we get to be outside all day which I've greatly missed. In my short two days working there, I have learned how to use a Miter saw to cut lumber. I also learned how to put together fence posts and install them and I feel like a badass carpenter now (though I'm hardly qualified to do anything besides nail stuff and take out screws). I want to go home and make decks and adirondack chairs and tree houses and all kinds of crafty wood items for my friends and family. And the icing on the cake is that we're directly impacting families' lives that have lost their homes tragically. The homeowner came up to us and thanked us so genuinely the other day and it melted my heart into a puddle and made me want to give her the whole world even if all I can really give her, for now, is compassion and a new fence. I can't put into words how grateful I am for all of this. The new skills and the warmth and compassion and parts of myself I'm finding that I didn't know I had. Thank you thank you thank you, world.
It is beautiful here and often I feel as though I'm living in a dream. We're surrounded by fields of green and tall trees that reflect the sunlight in the most perfect way. Often I walk out to a look out spot at the perimeter of the property at the end of day and watch the sky change colors ever so subtly. The sunsets here don't scream at you, like they did in Vegas. There are no explosions of color, no lava or cotton candy pouring out of the clouds, or if there are, we can't see them from where we are. Instead, it's the slightest change from baby blue to light grey to pale pink, a change so delicate it could easily be dismissed if you are not paying attention. Perhaps it is reflective of our lives here, where things gravitate towards simplicity and subtlety, where the world whispers its love to you rather than screams it across the sky.
We've been working at the food bank, helping at food distributions and maintaining the warehouse. It gets monotonous, but overall the work is rewarding and structured. My favorite day so far has been the "empty bowls" charity event. We spent the week before preparing the warehouse for it, scrubbing down the Food Bank's prized semi-automatic truck which became the centerpiece for the event, making the floors and walls spotless and setting up strings of Christmas lights on the ceiling. It all came together beautifully, and by the day of the event the whole building was completely transformed into a place suitable for rich people to dine and schmooze and spend a bunch of money in. This past week, we also started working at habitat, and boy is that the good stuff! First of all, I learned Habitat loves giving people free food. Second of all, when we work there we get to be outside all day which I've greatly missed. In my short two days working there, I have learned how to use a Miter saw to cut lumber. I also learned how to put together fence posts and install them and I feel like a badass carpenter now (though I'm hardly qualified to do anything besides nail stuff and take out screws). I want to go home and make decks and adirondack chairs and tree houses and all kinds of crafty wood items for my friends and family. And the icing on the cake is that we're directly impacting families' lives that have lost their homes tragically. The homeowner came up to us and thanked us so genuinely the other day and it melted my heart into a puddle and made me want to give her the whole world even if all I can really give her, for now, is compassion and a new fence. I can't put into words how grateful I am for all of this. The new skills and the warmth and compassion and parts of myself I'm finding that I didn't know I had. Thank you thank you thank you, world.
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