I am here again in Los Angeles. I made it -- thanks be to God.
Sorry for not posting in a while. Before coming here I was living in a monastery on the central coast of California, south of Monterrey. My time there was filled with silence, fraternity, prayer, writing, reading, work, and hiking: all things good. Despite the place's resonating beauty and feel of home, it also felt temporary. Here, too, at the Catholic Worker in Los Angeles a sense of beauty, appreciation, and love pervades in impermanence. So many homes have welcomed me in over the past six months and I feel so blessed by this; yet, I am left asking: where is my home; where do I belong; where should I be? These are difficult questions to answer. Home seems to imply a kind of permanence and so an answer to the previous questions feels impossible to provide. Yes, my transitory life arises impart from my youth and personality, but it also runs deeper than this. We are all strangers and wanderers on this earth. We are migrants, sojourners, tramps, beats, and bums. We are all waiting for our heavenly home, which (paradoxically) is this home, but redeemed. So, I am not home here. I will never be home here. I will never feel at home at any place. My home in this life is the road. Yet, I will travel to Lancaster in a few days because it seems like home, the place I should be. How mysterious and paradoxical is this life: the road not taken will actually lead us home!
This is my last post for this blog. Thank you for all your love and support, especially those who met me on the road and provided for my need. You are a good neighbor and I look forward to our next meeting, to return the generosity you have shown me! Much peace to all, safe travels in this life, and may we all be home soon!
Elliot
Sorry for not posting in a while. Before coming here I was living in a monastery on the central coast of California, south of Monterrey. My time there was filled with silence, fraternity, prayer, writing, reading, work, and hiking: all things good. Despite the place's resonating beauty and feel of home, it also felt temporary. Here, too, at the Catholic Worker in Los Angeles a sense of beauty, appreciation, and love pervades in impermanence. So many homes have welcomed me in over the past six months and I feel so blessed by this; yet, I am left asking: where is my home; where do I belong; where should I be? These are difficult questions to answer. Home seems to imply a kind of permanence and so an answer to the previous questions feels impossible to provide. Yes, my transitory life arises impart from my youth and personality, but it also runs deeper than this. We are all strangers and wanderers on this earth. We are migrants, sojourners, tramps, beats, and bums. We are all waiting for our heavenly home, which (paradoxically) is this home, but redeemed. So, I am not home here. I will never be home here. I will never feel at home at any place. My home in this life is the road. Yet, I will travel to Lancaster in a few days because it seems like home, the place I should be. How mysterious and paradoxical is this life: the road not taken will actually lead us home!
This is my last post for this blog. Thank you for all your love and support, especially those who met me on the road and provided for my need. You are a good neighbor and I look forward to our next meeting, to return the generosity you have shown me! Much peace to all, safe travels in this life, and may we all be home soon!
Elliot
We look forward to seeing you soon! I keep reminding myself that I am at home in the heart of God. Sometimes I forget that when the clatter and clamor of our world gets too loud and that's when the practice of silence and meditation comes to my rescue. It sounds like you have discovered the same thing.
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