Wear and tear

Last week, when I visited the Quaker meeting house they told me that, for them, silence in prayer means there is no hiding place from God (or perhaps from that little voice of conscience). And one of the most powerful things about this pilgrimage is that lots of my little props and escapes have been knocked away - there is nowhere to hide.

Up until now, when speaking to people, I haven't really needed to explain much, beyond the surface level, about who I am and what I am doing. But that changed today. I was sitting talking to a woman in her 60s over breakfast and when I told her that I was on pilgrimage in the city she immediately asked if I was a trainee priest. One of the half-rules I've had is not to tell people that I am a Jesuit novice because it would change the dynamic and so I found myself getting into all sorts of contortions to not hide what I was doing but also not confirm it. 

And then over lunch, I got into a good conversation with two men who knew each other, and as a result the conversation quickly moved beyond the usual surface pleasantries. I found myself, once again, struggling to explain who I was and why I was there. 

I've come to realise that there are very few coincidences and so as I walked out of town this afternoon, to visit Glasnevin Cemetery, the question that kept on coming into my head was 'so, exactly why are you here?'. The answer, I think, is somewhere in the experience of sitting this evening, on a park bench in the north inner city, slightly hungry, slightly tired and slightly sore and still thinking 'I wouldn't want to be anywhere else', because this path that I am on, pilgrimage included, is one that brings me a deep sense of happiness. 

And the photo for today touches on this feeling. I ended up walking north of Glasnevin to a place called Finglas and on the way back the pavement was divided into two sections, one marked for bikes and one for pedestrians. I began to notice that most of the little pedestrian figures were missing bits: arms, legs, heads, sometimes a mixture of all three. The wear and tear of life, and yet despite all that life knocked off them, I still knew where to walk. And that is part of the second half-answer, despite my own wear and tear, the bits life has knocked off me, as it has all of us, I feel deep down that I am on the right path. 

So in these final few days of pilgrimage I am going to be more open about why I am here. That is, to test whether I do have a vocation and whether I am ready to take vows in a few weeks.