Embarking
Tom Soma
After six months of planning and six weeks of intensive preparation, I finally set out on Sunday, April 20. The week’s “seventh day”—Biblically appointed a “day of rest.” And not just any seventh day either, but Easter Sunday—the pinnacle of the Christian year.
The day was remarkably restful—though not without mishap. The closet rod crashed down twice, both times spilling all my clothes, and a rock cracked the windshield less than a hundred miles from home. But just putting the groundwork behind was a relief. The sunny drive through central Oregon was magnificent. I received a warm welcome in Bend from my friend, Jenny (who provided both flat parking and electricity). But the day’s most affirming and encouraging gift was the send-off itself (see photo at the bottom of my home page). Susanne flew from Minnesota to join me for the first thousand miles. And our dear friends, Jackie and Tinker Hatfield (along with their family) prepared a wonderful brunch—inviting my children and grandchildren as well. Their generosity embodied the hospitality extended by so many people in recent months—friends who have offered encouragement and support, and who travel with me now in spirit.
The quest now begins in earnest. At its outset, I realize that my outward adventure is merely a pretext for a more critical inward journey necessary to embracing the divine presence within and about.
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes,” observes Marcel Proust, “but in having new eyes.”
“If there were a spiritual journey,” John O’Donohue adds, “it would be only a quarter inch long, though many miles deep… You do not have to go away outside yourself to come into real conversation with your soul and with the mysteries of the spiritual world. The eternal is at home—within you… There is nothing as near as the eternal.”
Rather than a human being on a spiritual journey, I perceive myself as a spiritual being on a human journey. I believe we all share, at our core, a primal curiosity to understand where we came from, and a primal longing for both connection and transcendence. How deep that journey takes me remains to be seen.
At the end of a long Easter day, both Jenny (a Presbyterian minister) and I were a bit weary. But I couldn’t help asking her husband where I might find God. He smiled. “Everywhere, I hope!”
I hope so, too.
Jenny Warner, outside her church in Bend, Oregon.