Renovation
Written by: Megan Bensley
My landlord invited my roommate and I to leave our apartment this month to do some renovations on the roof, bathroom and ceiling. At the end of another dizzying school year this seemed like the perfect time for a vacation, yet the shoestring budget of a NYC Catholic school teacher wouldn’t allow much wiggle room for fleeing. Needing the extra money that summertime tutoring brings and maybe a cake gig or two, I knew I wouldn’t really be able to go far. Instead, I packed my bags, several books, and my computer and prepared to live a little bit here, a little bit there, visiting friends and doing a little bit of soul renovating along the way.
The first few days of renovation (a.k.a. my displacement) were spent finishing work from the school year–typing Word documents at the speed of light, updating curriculum, preparing reports on struggling students, etc. I have to commend myself— I was pretty darn productive. And then the work finished itself up and I was left staring into the tabula rasa that is summer ’10. This is where the trouble began. The lack of structure, certainty and purpose in my days was terrifying. With the predictability and routine of my work environment and my home environment now gone…I too felt gone, lost and unsupported. My confident, determined, and usually task-driven self all of a sudden felt without purpose. Why so glum, I thought, when this is SUMMER and well-deserved relaxation should be a welcomed prospect? The type-A in myself decided to sleep-it-off and wake up in the morning with a concrete list of tasks to put me back on track—go for a walk, do some laundry, call a friend in Omaha, read 2 chapters of a book, bake a pie. Notice that nowhere along the way did I stop and turn to God…nope, I was the task master.
Go for a walk—check
Laundry—check
Phone call—check
Pie—check
Book— check, and…stop.
The book I picked up was Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet. I have read through it several times—sometimes slowly mulling over Rilke’s advice and other times racing through the text on a face-paced commute simply to “kill time.” No matter when read or in what style, Rilke’s message always feels fresh and new. There’s always something different I am left with at the end of a simple leaf-through. This time around, it was his advice on writing that stuck with me and his advice on avoiding look OUT to somehow prove one’s worth WITHIN:
“You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now.
No one can advise or help you – no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple “I must,” then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your while life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse.”
Reading Rilke’s words struck an accord with my schedule-driven frenzy. What if, just what if, the answer to rest, relaxation and a return to independence laid WITHIN?! I could literally hear God whispering “duh” in my ear and repeating Rilke’s words as:
“… ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I PRAY?”
Looking within, slowing down, turning to prayer, turning to writing…the middle of my 10-day renovation vacation has led me to the beach. No more lists for the time being—more Rilke, a little E.L. Doctorow, and embracing the WITHIN.
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