Early last Sunday, \u00a0while Arlene was busy preparing for the service at Chilmark, \u00a0(one which would feature the Jim Thoma Spirituals Choir), I was boarding the seven a.m.\u00a0 ferry to Woods Hole.\u00a0 It was a beautiful morning.\u00a0 The heat that had assaulted the preceding days with ninety degree temperatures had broken.\u00a0 When the boat began to pull out of the slip,\u00a0 I stood against against the rails of the outer-deck, grateful for the sense of tranquility that graced my departure. Leaving this island is never easy.\u00a0 \u00a0As i gazed fondly at the wooden boats moored in the harbor, and then lifted my eyes to behold \u00a0the steeples rising above the treetops, I could not help but think about how much my life has been transformed by this mystical and enchanted landscape. How many gifts it has to offer. \u00a0How many secrets it is waiting to disclose.\u00a0 Secrets that are necessary for our personal evolution. \u00a0 \u00a0 (And to think i only came here for a weekend – twenty five years ago – to see a fellow i had a crush on \u00a0perform in a Shakespeare play. It was a production of Twelfth Night in the ampitheater. \u00a0i had never been to the island before, and arrived in black fishnets and a black sequin beret, expecting to hail a cab to the ampitheater, which i presumed to be a large colleseum like construct with vendors selling penants, bags of granola, and theatrical souvenirs… i never got the guy. \u00a0In fact, he never even noticed me among the six or seven in the audience. \u00a0 But I was offered an even more remarkable\u00a0 relationship with the island itself. \u00a0With Martha.\u00a0 What a romance.\u00a0 As we all know, she is a temptress, a narcissist, bewitching, beguiling, and capable of casting spells. \u00a0 If Martha \u00a0wants you, she doesn’t let you go.\u00a0 As long as you worship and adore her, she will always find you a couch to sleep on, and a reason for you to stay on). \u00a0 \u00a0With that in mind, \u00a0i must now have Faith, and Trust, \u00a0that even the ostensibly bad things that happen on the Vineyard \u00a0– such as this recent mishap – are likewise part of a greater plan – one designed for the ultimate benefit of all, however that might make itself manifest \u00a0– and despite the need for massive dosages of ibuprophin. \u00a0 The island seems to dispatch many fairies, woodland nymphs, and benevolent spirits, to bless our lives and perform its magic,\u00a0 but it likewise seems to have an inexhaustible supply at its command of various nebishes, jinksters and pranksters to execute its more fiendish mischief.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
This last week at Arlenes was really restorative.\u00a0 In many ways – like the love and concern i received from various parisioners at the church, it defies my ability to articulate – and truly remains one of the gifts disclosed by the disastor.\u00a0 Sometimes things need to be cracked – if not broken – for the light to get in.\u00a0 And i am humbled, for, \u00a0despite \u00a0whatever intelligence i might portend, i am utterly mystified by the power of the love, the understand and the compassion i was given – which helped heal and transform my body and spirit, on a cellular level. \u00a0 The nurturing, acceptance, and support i received still stupified and causes me to stop in my tracks.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I do know that i am no longer the battered, bedraggled and bruised scruff muffin that relocated to Arlene’s a week ago.\u00a0 i was shaken and rattled – both on a physical and emotional level – which many of you bore witness to, and helped me through.\u00a0 God has a remarkable sense of synchronicity – and it seemed as if you were dispatched into my life at various junctures throughout this debacle.\u00a0 Running into Ann Dietrich at the Post Office, or Julie at The Chilmark Community Center, for example, at times when i was “on the verge” of breaking.\u00a0 Or Ted and Judy while I endeavoring to pound out the notes to a song I had orginally intended to play at the service – though the accident prevented me. “In the Arms of The Angel.”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Now, enriched by the acceptance, love, and support I received,\u00a0 I must dwell in the hope that my body continues to heal and mend so that i am as good as new.\u00a0 I am not sure if that’s how it can be at my age,\u00a0 but let’s see…let’s hope…let’s pray. \u00a0With God, all things are possible.\u00a0 And may I continue to remember the healing love from Laurie and Don and Pam and Clark and Judy and Ted and Julie and Arlene and Dr. Lorna, and Ann and Virginia,\u00a0 when i return to the city – May the memory provide as much of a sanctuary that heals and gives strength, \u00a0as was lavished upon me since the accident occurred.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I am especially grateful for this last weekend.\u00a0 I had only intended to stay “a few days”\u00a0 at Arlene’s and certainly did not want to violate any boundaries in that regard, or overstay my welcome.\u00a0 At the outset i thought i would leave midweek, though as Wednesday, then Thursday approached, I was still a wreck inside,\u00a0 frazzled.\u00a0 i was afraid that a if i head back to New York and something \u00a0bad happpened,\u00a0 anything – the slightest inconvenience, it could make me snap. lose it.\u00a0 go beserk – \u00a0in a way that would only hurt myself.\u00a0 That’s what people who are by themselves do in the city:\u00a0 they hurl themselves in front of garbage trucks, or busses, or on the tracks of an oncoming subway train. Sometimes it just gets to be too much.\u00a0 \u00a0I guess the word for me mid week was fragile.\u00a0 i never really left Arlene’s side; i was like a baby duck, in that regard. \u00a0Despite my vehement independence, I guess can sometimes be very self adhesive.\u00a0 Or let’s say i made pretend to leave her side,\u00a0 but was always on the radar screen.\u00a0 i seldom ventured out, and don’t know that i have ever spent that much time in doors.\u00a0 i guess its what i needed. Arlene’s place offers a home for the intellect, for the artist, for the stomach, and for the weary. \u00a0 The heat wave – proved a blessing, for it not only dissuaded me from leaving at the end of the week (tempertatures in the city hovered around one hundred and ten degrees), but it\u00a0 aslo persuaded me during these final days, to get into the water. \u00a0 I took the bus to ocean park,\u00a0 both friday and again saturday.\u00a0 While elsewhere others sweltered,\u00a0 i stood in the cool turquoise waters of the Nantucket Sound.\u00a0 \u00a0 The water is shallow so the sun beats down and heats it to a merciful temperature.\u00a0 It felt good,\u00a0 and once my body was tempered, i sat down, near waters edge so that I was submerged. i did hand exercizes in hope of improving mobitlity and range of motion. \u00a0 i was grateful to have found my way back to the gifts of the island – in terms of the sky, the sea, the sands, the sun.\u00a0 I have to be reminded that what the island offers (and what i return for) has a far greater power than whatever destructive forces were at work when the accident occurred – and it is that relationship – the one with the island, that i must take care of and hold central.\u00a0 That is the one that nurtures. enkindles.\u00a0 affirms the existence of the soul and its need for a relationship with God – \u00a0an unspoken trust demonstrated, likewise in the relationships i have developed with the parishioners at the church. \u00a0It is not about class, politics, economic standing, or some imaginary – illusory stratasphere of importance.\u00a0 The transluscent aqua waters of Ocean Park were there for me – much more so than Lucy Vincent.\u00a0 Those things are always tricky.\u00a0 Especially in the summer.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
As I remained leaning against the ferry’s railings, felt the breeze through my hair, \u00a0and beheld the island, growing further in the distance, i was grateful for having been able to see the island in its greenery, so lush and verdant. \u00a0 It was just enough. \u00a0Too much, and you have to deal with the summer people. \u00a0Clam bakes on the beach that I am not invited to. \u00a0Raw oysters. \u00a0Not that i ever liked clams, or oysters, for that matter. \u00a0The most they ever offered was the opportunity to use the word “unctuous.” \u00a0But the idea of not being invited…<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Somehow being with arlene also refunded my sense of self respect.\u00a0 she somehow recalibrated the barometer by which i measure my own self worth. \u00a0 this morning when i boarded the ferry, i did not feel like a ruffian, or a waif, or a wayward derelict who once might have shown promise but somehow missed the mark.\u00a0 i\u00a0 went out on the deck, glanced at the white clapboard houses sprinkled along the starboard shores, \u00a0and\u00a0 thought, “oh its chilly.\u00a0 let me put on a my sweater.”\u00a0 so clean.\u00a0 so simple.\u00a0 so lovely.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I am not sure why exposure to certain elements can make me feel so substandard.\u00a0 ( Sometimes i get confused to see where others are in life and how they are living at my\u00a0 age.\u00a0 I can easily feel less than.\u00a0 As if i missed the boat somewhere along the way.\u00a0 Like i should run out this minute and get a pedicure and a designer dog). \u00a0 Somehow, Arlene sets a good standard, a good meridian. It is not about occupying\u00a0 some exalted realm of\u00a0 superlatives, if that makes any sense. \u00a0 It is about\u00a0 Good.\u00a0 Its\u00a0 not about\u00a0 the best.\u00a0 It does not imply some vertically inclined hierarchy where the unfortunate are consigned to occupy some low level synonomous with shame. \u00a0It is not determining one’s sense of self worth and importance according to how many pair of Ugg boots one has or the type of cheese preferred with whatever sort of cracker. (Even though we all know extra sharp cheddar by far exceeds any competitor…) In Arlene’s world it is simply about goodness, which in itself is an absolute. \u00a0 Like many of those i have encountered at the church,\u00a0 who seem to appreciate who i am, (and don’t rub in what i am not), Arlene sees whatever inherent goodness there is – and seems to believe that \u00a0i am priceless “as is.”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Good is good enough…<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
i am in awe of the congregation that attends the white clapboard chapel at nine Menemsha Crossing. \u00a0 Everyone figured so predominately in what was a very difficult and challenging experience, physically and emotionally.\u00a0 Looking back, how much transpired in a few short weeks. \u00a0 We lost phyllis.\u00a0 The organ was delivered.\u00a0 Billy arrived.\u00a0 Helen hurt her hand.\u00a0 Lobster rolls.\u00a0 Ian helps with the blessing of the fleet.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
We are the fleet.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I know that at the outset of this last visit had intended to play “In The Arms Of The Angel” at the worship service.\u00a0 Instead, I feel like the accident delivered me into the arms of them.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
God Bless…<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Early last Sunday, \u00a0while Arlene was busy preparing for the service at Chilmark, \u00a0(one which would feature the Jim Thoma Spirituals Choir), I was boarding the seven a.m.\u00a0 ferry to Woods Hole.\u00a0 It was a beautiful morning.\u00a0 The heat that had assaulted the preceding days with ninety degree temperatures had broken.\u00a0 When the boat began […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3054","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-stories-from-our-church"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3054","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3054"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3054\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3056,"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3054\/revisions\/3056"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3054"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3054"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/chilmarkchurch.org\/service\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3054"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}