Detachment

Well... We picked out a car, but the deal is stalled because of the "usual" banking problems. Basically, since we U.S. citizens here on special visas (Betsy as Student, me on a Special Clergy Visa), banks in Canada are reluctant to give us a loan (even against a car) without a co-signer. This is very frustrating since I've been working to solve this problem for about two years. For the past year I've even had a Canadian Credit card and therefore have a Canadian credit history (not to mention a Canadian job, etc.). But every time a potential solution emerges it gets stalled one way or another. After two years of this I'm about ready to tear out my own hair.

Of course, much of this would be resolved if Betsy and I changed our immigration status to "Landed Immigrants." That requires all kinds of steps to be taken, including paying a hefty fee, securing criminal records checks from the FBI, possibly medical exams, and a bunch of other hoops that I didn't want to jump through until we were sure we were going to be up here in Canada for a while. Now is the time to start that process, but in the mean time we have to move house and get a car.

I could spend several more paragraphs exploring my anxiety and frustration about all this, but instead I'll take a deep breath and try for the spiritual virtue of detachment--a combination of awareness and perspective.

In two days is my last Sunday at SMM. I haven't accomplished a lot of those "little" things I had hoped, but I'm not surprised. It takes enormous patience and persistence to get new initiatives off the ground. In my experience usually at least one month for every person or entity involved. (and I have a whole way of determining what "involved" means in this formula). It's hard to let go of these things because I've invested so much in their accomplishment and because I believe that people will be let down by my failure to complete them. Detachment shrugs and says, "so what."

Here's a poem by Mary Oliver that should help...

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

-t