So, Wow
Things have changed. I have changed. Dramatically.
When I walked into church for vespers on Tuesday, I noticed that John had been snagged to be the reader for the service. John's been with us since early September. I did not have to see it in his face to know he was fairly nervous.
I don't remember thinking about it. I'm fairly sure there was not thinking involved. I simply walked over to where he was and stood there to help. Not that I particularly know what I'm doing, but I've been there before. Plus, last time I was reader, Alana helped me out. It made a big difference for me.
After it was over, I realized that the shaking that is fairly normal for me never started. I had no trouble reading the Psalms. My voice never cracked, shook, or otherwise failed me. I had even been able to read the music, somewhat.
What in the world! When I was a kid, sc0tlas and I sang in church occasionally. Not as much as any of the adults, but more than any of the other kids. However, this kind of thing has completely freaked me out since high school! I tried to get over it in Model UN. I tried with voice lessons in college. Nothing I've tried has worked. Tuesday, though, I was perfectly ok.
Maybe it helps that it's not about me. I know it and everyone else in the room knows it, so, while I want to do the best I can, there's not a huge amount of pressure. Plus, it has become fairly common for me to find myself at the chanter's stand on Tuesdays, so I am getting used to it. Not that familiarity has ever helped before... Really, I do not know why this is suddenly ok, but I'm glad it is.
After vespers, we have class. Father Patrick teaches his lesson, then Lisa the cantor teaches hers. We are learning the tones by learning the songs we sing in those tones. I have a stack of music from the last several weeks, including a stack of music in tone 4. I also (thank you, Marko!) have an mp3 of the song for vespers in tone 4, so I can practice for Tuesday. I need to practice because, for some reason, I volunteered to do this. Why did I do that? I have no idea. But I'll be singing along with the track on my ipod as I drive up to the women's retreat tonight.
Yes, You read that correctly. Not only am I volunteering to sing in vespers, I'm also going to a women's retreat completely voluntarily. I am not doing so because someone would not let up until I agreed to go. I am not doing this because I think I ought to. I am not doing this to run away from anything. I actually *drumroll* want to go.
WHAT? The last time I went to a women's retreat, it was only a good experience when we were not specifically engaged in retreat activities. I have always avoided these things as much as possible. So what gives?
Someone said it's because I like these people. I liked the other people too. At least, I specifically liked the people I knew, and I liked the others in a more general and potential sense. If that makes sense. This is a smaller group, and on average I know them better, and they know me better. On average. There is that detail of having fourteen years of history at the other place that simply cannot be matched in just over a year.
I think the real difference is that there are no wild cards in this group. I will not find myself in a breakout session with women who have perfect happy lives with no difficulties. (Yeah, I had tons of fun with that one.) I will not find myself in a great conversation with Friend A, only to be interrupted by Complete Stranger B who is convinced she has the answers to all my problems.
Not that these people are perfect or even generally better than the other people. It's that somehow there is a fundamental difference in how these people function. There is a difference built into the culture of this church. It is a difference that either draws new people with the same quality, or very quickly seeps into the new people, so that even the dozen others who came after me are part of the difference. It is a difference I cannot quite put my finger on, but it is there.
My mom told me a couple weeks ago that her favorite thing about my church is that I fit. I don't know how or why. It just is.
When I walked into church for vespers on Tuesday, I noticed that John had been snagged to be the reader for the service. John's been with us since early September. I did not have to see it in his face to know he was fairly nervous.
I don't remember thinking about it. I'm fairly sure there was not thinking involved. I simply walked over to where he was and stood there to help. Not that I particularly know what I'm doing, but I've been there before. Plus, last time I was reader, Alana helped me out. It made a big difference for me.
After it was over, I realized that the shaking that is fairly normal for me never started. I had no trouble reading the Psalms. My voice never cracked, shook, or otherwise failed me. I had even been able to read the music, somewhat.
What in the world! When I was a kid, sc0tlas and I sang in church occasionally. Not as much as any of the adults, but more than any of the other kids. However, this kind of thing has completely freaked me out since high school! I tried to get over it in Model UN. I tried with voice lessons in college. Nothing I've tried has worked. Tuesday, though, I was perfectly ok.
Maybe it helps that it's not about me. I know it and everyone else in the room knows it, so, while I want to do the best I can, there's not a huge amount of pressure. Plus, it has become fairly common for me to find myself at the chanter's stand on Tuesdays, so I am getting used to it. Not that familiarity has ever helped before... Really, I do not know why this is suddenly ok, but I'm glad it is.
After vespers, we have class. Father Patrick teaches his lesson, then Lisa the cantor teaches hers. We are learning the tones by learning the songs we sing in those tones. I have a stack of music from the last several weeks, including a stack of music in tone 4. I also (thank you, Marko!) have an mp3 of the song for vespers in tone 4, so I can practice for Tuesday. I need to practice because, for some reason, I volunteered to do this. Why did I do that? I have no idea. But I'll be singing along with the track on my ipod as I drive up to the women's retreat tonight.
Yes, You read that correctly. Not only am I volunteering to sing in vespers, I'm also going to a women's retreat completely voluntarily. I am not doing so because someone would not let up until I agreed to go. I am not doing this because I think I ought to. I am not doing this to run away from anything. I actually *drumroll* want to go.
WHAT? The last time I went to a women's retreat, it was only a good experience when we were not specifically engaged in retreat activities. I have always avoided these things as much as possible. So what gives?
Someone said it's because I like these people. I liked the other people too. At least, I specifically liked the people I knew, and I liked the others in a more general and potential sense. If that makes sense. This is a smaller group, and on average I know them better, and they know me better. On average. There is that detail of having fourteen years of history at the other place that simply cannot be matched in just over a year.
I think the real difference is that there are no wild cards in this group. I will not find myself in a breakout session with women who have perfect happy lives with no difficulties. (Yeah, I had tons of fun with that one.) I will not find myself in a great conversation with Friend A, only to be interrupted by Complete Stranger B who is convinced she has the answers to all my problems.
Not that these people are perfect or even generally better than the other people. It's that somehow there is a fundamental difference in how these people function. There is a difference built into the culture of this church. It is a difference that either draws new people with the same quality, or very quickly seeps into the new people, so that even the dozen others who came after me are part of the difference. It is a difference I cannot quite put my finger on, but it is there.
My mom told me a couple weeks ago that her favorite thing about my church is that I fit. I don't know how or why. It just is.
posted by Sam Gamgee at
12:54 PM
2 Comments:
You are so much better at writing your thoughts than speaking them. I wish you could meet and get to know my dear daughter in Christ, Sister Brigid of St Barbara Monastery. You and she have exactly the same thing, in this regard. And--I love her very much, as I do you!
I'm glad the all-merciful Lord sent you our way...
FP
I thought of you so many times when I was in Athens last week! Every time I passed a Greek Orthodox church, or saw an Orthodox father on the street. Glad you fit there so well.
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