I had driven down to Charleston to hear Sue Monk Kidd speak. I was very excited to hear her, I had just read a couple of her books. I didn't even know there was another speaker, and I tried not to get impatient waiting for Kidd. The other speaker was Kathleen Norris. She blew me away.
She had written a book entitled The Cloister Walk. I, honestly, don't remember specifically much of what she said that night, I just knew I wanted more. I bought the book and took it home to read. I had no idea how it would change my life.
She talks about her time at a Benedictine Monastery, and her journey to becoming an Oblate. In this story, I found my own call to become an Associate of a local Convent. It was quite a journey, and I savor it's beauty. One day, I was walking down the hall towards the chapel, and I asked one of the Sister's if this is the Cloister walk. I meant, is this the place called the Cloister walk. She looked at me a bit quizzically. She told me that the walk was something that we did.
I was stunned! I had spent the past several years understanding the Walk to be a noun. In fact, it had been a verb all along! First of all, how could I have made such a mistake? This formative book in my life, this book that gave me strength, conviction and confidence to move into a religious community. I had misunderstood it all along.
Perhaps there is a lesson in this for me. This small, yet significant, difference might help me understand much of my struggle. My yearning has been for a place, a noun. It was for an inanimate object. It was something to be attained, owned, walked on. It was simply a destination. Looking for an action seems far too nebulous. Being that action even more difficult. I've decided to re-read this book right now. I suspect my perspective will be much different, having gone on my own Cloister Walk. I sense that my longing of a place is morphing into an action. This action being what I will do, who I will be. More simply, I might even discover who I am.
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