In one month I will have been to Hawaii, hiked through lava fields, snorkeled near sea turtles and sang karaoke with petitpoussin.
In one month I will have been to California for a training on Pastoral Care for Religious Educators. That’s right, another intense weekend spent with the roaming peacocks of the Mary and Joseph Retreat Center.
In one month I will have celebrated my 13 year anniversary of being a vegetarian.
In one month I will have turned 25, which I suppose means, I must finally admit I have survived adolescence, and entered the sometimes mundane realms of adulthood where people watch both what they eat and say.
In one month my parents will be visiting from Philadelphia, after selling their house and after my dad has finished his radiation treatments. We will hike, and picnic, explore cute little southwest towns, and go to a spring training baseball game.
In one month I will have cleaned my apartment and (hopefully) built more bookshelves to house the piles of reading materials that currently are taking over our home.
In one month, this Sunday’s intergenerational worship service on peace that I still have to prepare for will have come and gone, and the topic of dreams will be dominating my working hours.
In one month I will be compiling a list of people to take to coffee so that I can politely beg them to spend a portion of their time volunteering in our Religious Education Program, ‘cause yes, children are important.
I go in and out of stages where my tendency to plan ahead starts to dictate all the other actions of my day. (I sometimes find writing upcoming events in my calendar calming). Things seem so complete before they have even begun; time takes on a different note, and an unidentifiable doubt creeps up from my datebook, through pencil and pen to my hand, and I begin to wonder what else I might be doing.