Vacation, Continued

We're back, and to my amazement, I'm glad that we went.

Don't get me wrong, any time that we go on vacation, I'm always glad that we go, but whenever we get back, there's this large THUMP as we get back into the normal swing of things, especially if the day we get back is the day before we have to go back to work. Didn't happen this time, for two reasons:

We took two weeks off instead of just one.

We left in the middle of the first week and came back in the middle of the second week.

So although we have the normal tons of laundry to do, bills to pay, and all of that, there isn't the overhanging nimbus of doom saying You have to go back to work tomorrow. This is a good thing.

The vacation was good for another reason. I got the time to think about what I want to do with my job and, to a certain extent, the rest of my life. I am not good at all about thinking on things like that. When I try, I get into a tight loop very quickly, and get frustrated very shortly thereafter. I can read as many self help articles and books as I like (and I have read a couple, from time to time) but I can never make the conceptual jump to all-seeing clarity. I have to struggle just to get a basic concept.

Fire. Should not stick...something....hand....should not stick hand in fire.

Anything beyond that is beyond me. So although I was 'thinking' about my job and what I want to do - stay, retire, change jobs - while we were in Williamsburg, I wasn't actively doing so. Mostly, I was thinking about the intense heat (average temp at 2PM: 96 degrees Fahrenheit), the price of gasoline, and if there was any place to sit down, preferably indoors, preferably cool. What that localized fixation did, in some weird way, was to 'center' me, to use a buzzphrase I've heard. I didn't think about work. I didn't think about the house we want to build. I just thought about the historical recreators, all but one of whom were good (at Williamsburg, they do this all the time) and the material that they were presenting. Much of it was interesting, and some was captivating - we actually went to one venue three times and heard three different people present the same material. One was a good, if simple, presentation of Colonial politics, one was a erudite discussion of the political and military forces involved and why the British governor did what he did, and one was an astoundingly good mix -- the man was by turns, fiery, humourous, and thoughtful, and above all, passionate and accomplished.

I thought about these people, and how they were doing something that was important to them. I don't know what they get paid (most of them are paid, a few are volunteers), but I doubt it was much. And yet they did it, tramping around in the heat, having casual conversations where you could overhear them, talking about the British and what the news was from Boston, and the outbreak of illness at Jamestown. I didn't draw great, weighty conclusions from it, and there were still plenty of times when I 'came back to reality', but every so often, I was just in a place surrounded by people who loved what they were doing. It was a novel experience, but, as it turns out, not the only one that I would have this week.

After leaving Williamsburg, we spent two days visiting with my wife's cousin, her husband, and their four children. Three of the four are adopted, one is a foster child that they'd like to adopt. Cute kids, too, from the oldest, a young girl from India, to the next two (an eight year old girl from China, a ytounger boy from Korea) to the youngest (a small bright eyed American boy who can run like the wind). The parents are, each of them, bright and interesting. They’re also deeply religious. They speak easily about God guiding their lives, and how they trust that He will look after them and help them when they need it.. Soon, this may not be just a theoretical observation.

The husband, who is a computer scientist, is taking night courses so that he can be certified as a minister in their church. I don't know if that event will mean that he will have to give up his job, but I do know that it will mean, most likely, that they will have to move from their charming home to wherever a parish needs him. They were obviously concerned about the financial impact of any potential move, and they were doing what they could to prepare for it should it come to pass, but they weren't consumed by it, the way that I can be consumed in thinking about retirement and finances. They really believed that if they did their best, they would get aid when they needed it. They said this simply, almost matter-of-factly.

In most cases, this would creep me out, big time. I don't like people who are that comfortable with religion. I feel as if when they talk about it, they are trying to one-up me, pitying me in their hearts because I clearly don't see the Light. They make me nervous, and I usually nod and smile and edge away when their paths cross mine. I don't want to give them an inch because I'm afraid they'll try to Save me, and I let almost no one that close to me.

I was more than a little surprised to find myself very comfortable, most of the time, with this family. I didn't go to church with them, and when they formed a hand-holding ring to say grace before dinner, I was about ten feet away, but I didn't feel threatened by it, as I usually do. In fact, I felt just a bit honored that they felt comfortable doing that while I was there. I know that they didn't even think about me or the effect on me - they just did it, as naturally as washing their hands or asking for the salt to be passed. Just a little bit, I envied them that surety.

I thought about that mixture of things -- the recreators and the religious people; people who do what they love and believe in; people who can be both intelligent and deeply religious -- off and on, all the way home.