One of the reasons for my silence in recent months…
I promised myself for Lent I’d write.
But what to write?
The Urban Monastic is on pilgrimage. Okay, yes, but technically????
I’m homeless. And have been. Since the beginning of February.
Roving from shelter site to shelter site (literally a different site every night of the week) while the shelters last (we have no year-round shelters, so only ’til the end of March) is a pilgrimage right enough. Granted it seems a bit like the kind of pilgrimage Pooh and Piglet took around a tree — following their own tracks in the snow and looking for what made them — but time is moving in a forward and linear direction, whether I seem to be moving in anything but circles or not.
Circumstances are complicated, nuanced, and more than I really want to get into on so many levels. 2013 broke me, plain-and-simple. It is what it is, but…
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