In case you missed me

Or, more likely, in case you were worried about me.

"It's like..." Boss said over dinner as I savored my stuffed flounder (I really forget how good seafood is when I emerge from the middle of the country) and tried to politely ignore his liver and onions.

All I could think of was Dirty Dancing. Our resort for this particular meeting is like the setting of that movie. Golf, tennis, swimming. Hiking, horseback riding, I think there's even shooting. Basically stuff I won't have time to do as I'll be learning about research. I somehow doubted that particular movie was what he was going for, so I stayed silent.

"Dirty Dancing!" He finally said, and his wife nodded as she sat next to him. I grinned, adoring them both.

It is pretty - our hotel. Quaint and historical. So as Boss asked about the dining hours while he was checking in - we arrived late after heavy traffic on the drive from the airport and were quite hungry - I barely restrained myself from interrupting. He decided we'd head back out to town to find food, and I braced myself before speaking.

"Is there internet access?"

"Wireless in the rooms. Though it can get iffy when it's windy. But there's always access here in the lobby." I smiled with pleasure at the woman behind the counter - I had been prepared to do without, but it's fantastic that I can sit in a chair in my adorable room and post something to my blog. I feel good, actually.

I started reading The Great Divorce on the flight. Finished it before we landed - it's not very long and I found it to be so exquisitely written that I can't even bear to summarize it. It was wonderful - I tried to remember passages I would want to read again until I decided I'd simply have to start at the beginning and work my way forward - again and again and again. It's simple and elegant and powerful.

I picked it up at a used bookstore on a day when I couldn't find anything I wanted. Me. Not wanting books. Feeling bemused and disturbed when meeting Unnamed Friend with her arms full of books and looking down at the single, short paperback I held. I'd seen C.S. Lewis as I browsed the fiction and avoided the romance. I like C.S. Lewis a great deal - found Mere Christianity to be an easy yet profound read. So I picked up The Great Divorce, read the back, then tucked it back between its friends on the shelf.

Scary, I thought. A book about releasing earthly desires for their Heavenly counterparts. I see it as the core struggle in my life at this point - for several reasons which I keep saying I'll describe later. So, as is my habit, I ran from the very answers I seek. But, as is also my habit, I looked around for a little while, thought about it, then quickly strode back and rescued my book. Held it to my chest as Unnamed Friend continued to pore over shelves. Sat and read the preface before we left.

In the funny way that God has with me, it wasn't scary to read though I expected it to be difficult for me right now. Instead, it was peaceful and gentle. A prodding toward truths I need to face - truths I think I want to face now. So I read it and sighed - wished I knew the man sitting next to me on the plane so I could tell him how much I liked this book. I needed to read it. Just as I think I needed to send some email yesterday - spend some time thinking and writing responses to messages I'd received. So, if I happened to send you something yesterday, it was more for me than you, I think. I wanted to be clear about how much I appreciated the opportunity to consider some topics I might not have otherwise. It made me tuck the book into my bag this morning. And that, I think, was important.

I feel stable. I'm thinking about what I can do with some work problems rather than punishing myself for all I haven't done. I smiled and shook hands with a prominent scientist after returning from dinner with Boss and his wife.

"I actually interviewed with you last year." I confessed, though I had talked primarily with one of the faculty in his group.

"It's OK." I said, tossing my hair (which looks fantastic, by the way - all shiny and curling, even after a day of travel) and smiling. "It was mostly with Other Guy. I'm Katie."

"Of course! I remember." I was about to ask how things were going when prominent organization leader smiled at me.

"I recognize your name!" She said, repeating it.

"Really?" I said, beyond surprised. "I don't know if that's good or not." Because why would she know me? It's a big organization - well, fairly big - and I'm quite the small fish.

But I shook her hand, made small talk about travel, then excused myself before they want to the bar and I came to unpack. Then I admired my pretty hair, took out my contacts, and looked at myself for a moment. I'm on my way to something, and I believe it can be something very good. There are choices - small and large - that need to be appropriately decided on the journey, but I feel - in some moments - strangely ready. There were a few times - on the plane and in the car afterward - that I wanted to be anywhere and nowhere else. Nothing specific - I didn't crave any location or person above all others. I just didn't want to do this.

But I can. I am doing this. Which means I need to sleep so I can do it again tomorrow.