No Woman is an Island

No Woman is an Island

The book “No Man is an Island” is one of my favorites. Written by Thomas Merton, the late Trappist monk, I’ve found a lot of wisdom in his writings and the greater concept that was revealed to me when I was in high school. That’s the last time I read the book. A few years ago I lent out my tattered, musty smelling copy to a friend, hoping that hope might be revealed in the words.

I think what I like about Merton is his sense of justice, mixed with his conviction that life is not lived in a vacuum and therefore, careful balances of patience, active humility and community are essentials for sanity and solid communion.

Sometimes when I am in a bookstore I see copies of this book and the title screams at me!

I am not alone.
I am a collection…of people, places and experiences.
This is all a part of my life.

Sometimes I wonder if a crisp shinny copy will ever say something different. If a new copy will bring new perceptions?

In this last year or so of my life in the States, I have come to find community in some unlikely places. It’s taken a while to cultivate. And like any new place I go, the process is slow…mostly due to my fears. But day-by-day I deal and overcome and give up little pieces…

I’m certainly looking forward to what the future might bring in the next year and beyond but I can honestly say that not a day goes by that I am not grateful for this exact moment. This day….this realization. Because as much as this independent heart of mine goes off into the world and risks desertion, I always go back within my collected self and consult the reflections of the people, places and experiences that have created and nurtured me along the way.