A short visit...

Steve came in on Sunday and just left today, Tuesday, so it was a short visit. I'm really glad he was able to come down and "experience" l'Arche here in Arlington, especially because he has something to compare it to. He said this house had a similar feel, which supports the theory that l'Arche is similar all over the country, if not the world. But, it also has it's own culture. And we've only been open for a few months. Seems hard to believe I'm approaching my three month point!

We hung around Arlington on Sunday night. I took him to Murky Coffee, one of my favorite haunts, and we ate out in Clarendon. Then we came home and drank some wine with Dottie, Mandy, and Debbie and talked about life while eating goldfish. On Monday, we went into DC and perused the Natural History, Air and Space, and Holocaust museums. The last was, of course, the most intense. I remember going once when I was a senior in high school. And I think once was enough. Those images don't leave your mind for a long time. The museum is doing a lot of advocacy work for Darfur and the genocide going on over there. They projected pictures of the Darfur region on the side of the building so that cars passing by could see them. Pretty powerful.

Then, this morning, Steve and I had breakfast and talked about future hopes and future plans. Egypt! Grad school! Who knows! We both reflected on the fact that someday we hope to all be back together again, living with eachother or near eachother on our own plot of land where we grow our own vegetables and sew our own clothes and harvest the energy of the sun to run our electric appliances (if we have any). I really could see all of us going off and having these adventures over seas, or stacking up a few grad-degrees, or moving here and there for different jobs...and then once that is out of our system, congregating back into one place again where we can live daily life together. Devon sent me a letter from Italy with the same sentiments. It really is hard to live your life so closely with others during such a formative period of your early adult years, and then have to leave...just because it's the "normal" thing to do. I don't know if I'll ever adjust. And I don't know if I'll have make friends like I did in college. I'll make friends, but my relationships with them will be different. Not good or bad. Just not the same.

It seems like Steve really "found" his soul in l'Arche, as he put it. L'Arche is a place of peace, of acceptance, and it's hard to leave places of refuge like these for the outer world that's scary and uninviting. L'Arche homes really are witnesses of peace to the larger society, particularly our war-obsessed one. We are not called to be sectarian, but we are also not called to conform to the mainstream. We are called to something different, a place where we can be ourselves and be with eachother.

I wonder if I could make it to Egypt before graduate school started. Hmm. Or for the Spring. Devon and Lex want me to come to France. A second annual Lex/Dev/Heath trip to Europe! I love the idea! That could become an expensive tradition.

I've been doing the mornings a lot this week which are never easy, but aren't that hard after I initially wake up. It's those first few moments of hearing the alarm that are the worst. Then, it's rise and shine. And shower time.

I will be home for Thanksgiving until Sunday night. I am on Monday morning (a pattern?). I look forward to seeing M and J, and to cooking a serious amount and perhaps baking some bread. This time last year I was flying to Portland to spend Thanksgiving at l'Arche. Now I'm here. It seems ages ago. I remember initially being totally freaked out by the idea of living with the developmentally disabled. I mean who in their right mind chooses to live with people who are awkward, medically fragile, strange? But then again, who in their right mind wouldn't want to live with people who love to laugh, who don't judge by appearance, who have open hearts? We so often choose to surround ourselves with people who make us feel bad about ourselves, or we surround ourselves with no one at all. Now that seems unwise. Stupid, in fact.

At least 4 times a day, Hazel will say to me, "I like you. I like you." She always wants to remind me that she likes me. I don't know many people who would be that vulnerable. But Hazel does this naturally. She justs wants you to know that she likes you. And that's really it.