Monday, March 1, 2010

Social Obligation . . .


We visit with others as a matter of social obligation. How long has it been since we have visited with ourselves?
~ Morris Adler

Jay and I traveled to French Lick for an overnight trip -- the day before a dramatic, sweeping snowfall. Our journey home was a long one, precarious and treacherous, much like the last year of our life. I'm sure I'll blog about that at some point. Nonetheless, this hotel featured a wraparound porch filled with empty rockers (with the exception of newly-fallen snow); it reminded me of the times I've sat in a porch swing visiting with relatives or in a rocking chair on a sweltering July afternoon sharing stories with friends.


The historic hotel at West Baden is an amazing structure with an exquisite dome that changes character with the time of day. From different vantage points the luminescent lights in the dome's center mesmerized us, captivated us. For an hour we sat fixated on these lights -- not speaking nor uttering a sound -- until lulled into an almost other-worldliness. In silence we discovered that we had nowhere to go, no one to meet and nothing to do. All matters of social obligation were three hours away in Northern Kentucky and we merely just visited with ourselves. Literally. I knew that in Jay's own little world he was "at peace," as he often says when words are not punctuating the air between us. And I was visiting with myself in the quiet of my mind while Jay dozed off next to me.

Reminiscing about the last time I saw the delapidated squalor of this magnificent hotel as it hosted a rowdy high school marching band of which my brother was a member, I marveled at the transformation of this structure. And it suddenly became a metaphor for the transformation that had transpired in my own life this year.

Transported by the everchanging colors of the dome above me, my mind wandered through the winding roads of the past year that had led me on not-so-peaceful journeys to Indiana. And now I sat in silence, holding the hand of the man who holds my heart, staring at this tranquil "sky" above me.


And it became so perfectly clear: sometimes you just have to say "no" to social obligation and make a date with yourself. A lesson I've needed to learn for a long time now.