But before we get to that...
Today we walked into town again (which is a tiring ~45 minute walk) and got breakfast at an absolutely delectable place. Alexandra's is a divine experience. (We've had quite a few of those today!) We went there for a snack yesterday and I got a giant eclair which rivaled Parisian eclairs. (I'm being absolutely serious. It was incredible.) Today, I got a cappuccino and some sort of chocolate-pastry-whipped cream thing. We sat and talked and it's so nice to just be in a new place. I love the digging and I like the socializing, but my favorite thing is slipping into the place, nice and easy and slow like the local honey. Walk around and familiarize yourself with the area, but always leave places to be explored. Eat the local foods, use the language. Talk to local people or knowledgeable people or interesting people. (There is no shortage of interesting people on this dig.)
In following that vein, we went exploring. There are quite a few churches (two bookend the main green space/square in the town, which tells you something about how religion is viewed here). At one end of town, beyond the square, there is another church on top of a hill with a cemetery attached. We were meandering and wanted somewhere shady (at that point, it was sunny and hot) and figured the church and cemetery would work; plus, they're usually interesting places in a town, so we wanted to explore.
I am not religious the way I used to be. I don't go to church with my father much anymore, but I have a great respect for religion and religious spaces. For me, it does not matter what religion you practice, what sect you're in, what spiritual explanation or lack thereof you hold to: sacred space is sacred. Sacred places, holy places, consecrated places, are all places of power and faith and you are to respect them. I can walk into a Catholic church, not being any sort of Catholic, and feel power there. I felt it today. Houses of worship hold a power all their own and whatever God you believe in, whether you gather your strength from prayer or from magic, you are always welcome in a holy place because it does not care how you believe--only that you do believe. The particulars fall away and all that is left is spirit, all spirit, every spirit, every holy power is present at once.
We walked into this small, unassuming, bland white church --and gasped. No one was present, but we all three still whispered. The silence pressed on my ears and my mind and I felt clear. Cleansed? Both alone and comfortingly connected to another something. I think it's what faith should feel like. I feel it in holy spaces. I've felt it in churches in London and Paris and now here. I remember feeling it when I would escape from lunch during Vacation Bible School and sit on the altar of our Methodist church, alone. I feel more when I'm alone, rather than through the communal nature of a religious service. I am allowed to relax and breathe and be at peace when I'm alone in a place of faith. Exactly as it was this afternoon.
Once we felt like we'd had enough of this beautiful, calm place (and once we'd taken all the pictures we possibly could from all the different angles), we meandered to the cemetery right next door. We had just enough time to explore a little bit before we heard the thunder and the rain started to come down. So we decided to huddle in front of the church while we waited for it to stop raining. I couldn't stop grinning to myself about the situation, even in the rain --especially in the rain. I liked walking part of the way home in the rain. I lived in England for a semester; I loved the clouds and the rain and getting soaked to the bone was soothing in a weird way. In keeping with the spiritual theme, there's a lot to be said on the subject of being bathed while in a spiritual state. The rain felt nice. I was content.
*Bedroom Hymns, Florence + the Machine. Faith and love and sex, all rolled into one, the way it should be. We tend to separate our lives into itty bitty bits and pieces, when really, it's all mushed in together, messy. Like when your parents tell you to eat all your food because it's all just gonna get mixed together and land in the same place anyway. Our lives, our selves, are a great big ball of mush--our thoughts, our feelings, our experiences. How can we separate it all out like laundry loads?
No comments:
Post a Comment