For Love of a Song

It was just a tune. But as the notes played out of my car stereo, my mind caught them and memories were triggered.

I found myself standing on the monastic gravel road behind the community work room. The summer sun felt warm on my skin as the grass stood tall and dry along the side of the road. The pine tress filled the air with their scent. I lifted my eyes heaven ward and saw the deep blue sky holding its white, puffy, clouds gently so they could drift lazily across the vast horizon. I could see across the valley to the ridge on the other side, a valley filled with pine trees.

The monastery sound system was in the midst of playing a select array of pieces, one particularly moving to my heart and soul. It blared far and wide across the valley. It was recreation period, the time we could talk and share. I had decided to go outside and take a walk on the monastery grounds. Nature most healed my soul, and the music reminded me of my purpose being here. That reminder afforded me the strength I needed to live this most challenging and rewarding life. 

It was this music that kept me so long in a life I was not well suited for. My struggles were daily for almost 30 years. But each time we intoned a hymn, chanted the psalms, or played music, I would find heart and decide I could live this demanding life. More, I decided that without the life, I would not have the liturgical flavor to my life, and my life would be less.

This love for the rhythm of life kept me longer than it should have. When I finally made the decision to leave, I grieved many a day for the loss of the rhythm, the inspiration it offered, and the atmosphere it created.

So as I sit here today in my car, listening to the same powerful hymn coming unexpected from my stereo, my spirit joins that spirit from my past. Powerful emotions rock my soul, and it is hard to pull back to reality.

I grieve.

Yet, I recognize that I have accomplished much in the 15 years since I chose to move through an open door that led to many new blessings and accomplishments. I was truly blessed by God as one door after another opened in what can only be called the sign of God's blessings on my decision.

And still, there are times I yearn for those past monastic experiences, as if the memory selectively forgets the pain and only remembers the good.

It is good to remember the good. It is important to remember the whole picture.

I know how hard it is to move on from a place you love, but is also destructive for you.

I struggled to move on. And I have. Everything has been improved, beyond my ability to explain. I would not change my choice one second. I am double blessed by God.

And yet, there are moments when I still grieve.