Monday, it rained all day. I absolutely love rainy days. I think rain helps me remember things, because so many of my memories are connected with rain: family time on Block Island, Rhode Island; a walk around the block with a friend just to feel the rain on us, no umbrella and jeans so drenched and heavy that they barely hung on; playing in the muddy ditches on the farm with the cousins; riding my red bike home from teaching in China then running up the stairs for a cup of coffee and dry clothes; a walk home to my apartment in Korea, wrestling with waiting and being alone; sharing an umbrella with a friend who insisted that the rain would make my hair fall out.
I was happy to make some new memories with my cousin Sarah on Monday. We ate migas and huevos rancheros for breakfast/lunch at Cisco's, then spent the rest of the rainy afternoon shopping at some random places. I bought the Ghostland Observatory CD at Waterloo because I'm going to see them with my cousin Audra on Saturday. They're an interesting band and I'm betting it's gonna be a great show.
It's spring break in the Austin area this week, so I've had a little more reading and reflection time. I'm not thinking of joining a convent (yet), but in thinking and praying through this waiting time, I'm trying to pay close attention to life:
Monastic people seek to weave ceremony through every mundane part of life: how one eats, how one dresses, how one treats tools, or enters a church are not left to whim. Ceremony is so large a part of what Benedictines do that it becomes second nature to many of them. The monastic life has this in common with the artistic one: both are attempts to pay close attention to objects, events, and natural phenomena that otherwise would get chewed up in the daily grind.
- Kathleen Norris, The Cloister Walk