I'm Not Afraid...
The retreat was fantastic. There was nothing disagreeable about it. Even the souvenir bug bites were entirely worth dealing with. There was no forced socialization with complete strangers. The complete strangers were fantastic, so even if there had been, it would have been okay. The content was applicable to everyone, rather than catering primarily to categories that I am not and may never be in. My participation in future parish women's retreats will not require the use of excessive force, or even any at all, on anyone's part. I might even be willing to consider the bigger Antiochian Women retreat. Maybe.
On the drive to the monastery, Khouria and I were talking. That conversation was all over the place, and all of it disturbingly familiar territory for me, but it resulted in her encouraging me to pursue my languages with the goal of eventually being a translator.
That's all well and good. I was interested in linguistics, languages, and translation by age ten, and it was with that idea that I went into linguistics. However, when I began to realize that nothing ever works quite right for me, it was one of the dreams I gave up along the way. And now, at thirty, it would be so much more difficult to make it happen than it would have at twenty.
Still, it was interesting that the subject came up. The day before, a prospective Chamber member had stopped by the office. Her business card introduced her as a state certified interpreter. Twice in twenty-four hours could still be a fluke, though, and it was not the time to be thinking about such things, so I filed it away.
We caught the end of matins and had a lovely morning. There was breakfast with the nuns, wandering the grounds, and the first part of the presentation by our speaker.
At lunch, I put myself at the table that was not entirely people I knew, and I quickly found myself sitting next to an energetic 82 year old nun and across from a girl who will move to the monastery in the spring. I'll be darned if we did not have the very same conversation, in spite of my attempts at deflection.
It just occurred to me why I have almost no memory of the actual content of the presentation...
We got home that night, and by Sunday evening, the weekend's return of translation in triplicate was refusing to stay filed away. I emailed Father Patrick, and we met on Veteran's Day, which I conveniently had off. It was nearly a two hour conversation, and by the time I got home, I had some much-needed clarity.
We talked about school, work, and the question of what I actually want. This question has for some time been answered with a decisive "I don't know," though that is owing largely to the fact that I've long since shelved everything I actually want. Of course, I had not realized that until the retreat, and I could see no point in revisiting any of it until Father Patrick blew the dust off and swept away the cobwebs.
Now I have both a goal and an actual plan of getting there. Sort of. There are a few details to figure out. But there's a goal! And a plan! And it's all very intimidating! What if I don't get in to the school? What if there's no financial aid? What if I somehow screw it up? What if everything goes right except for the problem of actually attaining competence in a language and it turns out to be impossible after all? I have questions! The trick will be not letting them paralyze me. For that, though, I have help.
It is a wee bit unnerving to have this dream handed back to me.
Boy, have I got work to do.
On the drive to the monastery, Khouria and I were talking. That conversation was all over the place, and all of it disturbingly familiar territory for me, but it resulted in her encouraging me to pursue my languages with the goal of eventually being a translator.
That's all well and good. I was interested in linguistics, languages, and translation by age ten, and it was with that idea that I went into linguistics. However, when I began to realize that nothing ever works quite right for me, it was one of the dreams I gave up along the way. And now, at thirty, it would be so much more difficult to make it happen than it would have at twenty.
Still, it was interesting that the subject came up. The day before, a prospective Chamber member had stopped by the office. Her business card introduced her as a state certified interpreter. Twice in twenty-four hours could still be a fluke, though, and it was not the time to be thinking about such things, so I filed it away.
We caught the end of matins and had a lovely morning. There was breakfast with the nuns, wandering the grounds, and the first part of the presentation by our speaker.
At lunch, I put myself at the table that was not entirely people I knew, and I quickly found myself sitting next to an energetic 82 year old nun and across from a girl who will move to the monastery in the spring. I'll be darned if we did not have the very same conversation, in spite of my attempts at deflection.
It just occurred to me why I have almost no memory of the actual content of the presentation...
We got home that night, and by Sunday evening, the weekend's return of translation in triplicate was refusing to stay filed away. I emailed Father Patrick, and we met on Veteran's Day, which I conveniently had off. It was nearly a two hour conversation, and by the time I got home, I had some much-needed clarity.
We talked about school, work, and the question of what I actually want. This question has for some time been answered with a decisive "I don't know," though that is owing largely to the fact that I've long since shelved everything I actually want. Of course, I had not realized that until the retreat, and I could see no point in revisiting any of it until Father Patrick blew the dust off and swept away the cobwebs.
Now I have both a goal and an actual plan of getting there. Sort of. There are a few details to figure out. But there's a goal! And a plan! And it's all very intimidating! What if I don't get in to the school? What if there's no financial aid? What if I somehow screw it up? What if everything goes right except for the problem of actually attaining competence in a language and it turns out to be impossible after all? I have questions! The trick will be not letting them paralyze me. For that, though, I have help.
It is a wee bit unnerving to have this dream handed back to me.
Boy, have I got work to do.
posted by Sam Gamgee at
4:30 PM
1 Comments:
Go, Spidey! Catch that dream and make it a reality! We know you can do it! :)
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