How peculiar that I never made it to any of the services at the monastery. Nor did I peruse the materials in the bookstore. How unlike me! I intended to. I even argued with myself about going. But I didn't want to exhaust my energies on something as unnecessary as shopping when I am trying to focus on the things of the spirit and on relationships with others. So even though people showed me what treasures they discovered and purchased at the gift shop, and even though I really wanted to take home some of their bread and honey and maybe even some jelly or chocolates, and even though I always run across some new author or topic that is germane to my research, I resisted and stayed put, drinking in what I was supposed to be there to do and purposely not doing anything that would distract from that.
As we completed the final packing and cleaning up and I climbed in my car to head back to Rochester, I immediately thought that this would be a good time to catch a service and check out the store. And just as immediately, I realized that I wanted very much to guard the time of my drive back and meditate on what was stirring inside me. If I get distracted now I will lose that vital part of the experience. So I take myself firmly in hand, talk turkey to my inner drives and keep driving right past the abbey and back onto the expressway. Residual effects are sometimes the most productive.
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