Looking for Nashotah House
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Once upon a time I had a very close friend who was an Episcopal priest. He and I were alike in many ways, and in many ways we were different. Over the years, we shared many experiences in each other’s lives. Then things became strained, and then the relationship stopped altogether as we developed a different view of the world and said some things to each other we shouldn’t have. Sometimes things can't be taken back.
But I did learn one important lesson from him. He attended seminary at a place called Nashotah House in Nashotah, Wisconsin. He often spoke fondly of it, and how happy he would be to move back there permanently. I always thought that was a bit strange because it was frickin’ Wisconsin. Lots of snow and lots of cold. Why would anyone want to live there?
But over the years I heard him not only talk about the peace of the place, but live the peace in his life. Some of my fondest memories of my friend were centered around how he handled down time. I mean “forced” downtime. What do you do when the electricity goes out, or the phone goes dead, or you get snowed in for several days? He knew what to do. I don’t think it came natural to him. It's a skill and he learned it. I never did.
If my electricity goes out, after 10 minutes I am on the phone to the electric company, and after 30 minutes I am in the car driving around looking for the electric company truck. If the phone goes dead, I positively panic, then get shakin’ mad when I get the automated voice saying phone service will be restored within two days. Two days? And when the cable goes out, that is the worst. I can live without many things, but not my cable. I have to be connected.
My friend was not that way. I spent many snowy afternoons in front of his log burning fireplace watching him enjoy the easy side of life as the snow blew outside. He often talked about Nashotah House and the times he and his then wife would be snowed in, sometimes with electricity, sometimes without, often times for days. He never talked about the inconvenience, but always about the wonder and marvel of nature forcing us humans to slow down a bit, and make the best of some peaceable time. Sure there are things to do, but they can wait. If the bills are a day late, so what? Our job can do without us for a day. The work will still be there tomorrow. Then he would pull up an easy chair in front of the fireplace, and have a glass of whiskey.
I am not sure whether I could ever be like my friend, and to be honest, sometimes that laid back attitude was a tad irritating. On the other hand, when things get out of hand in my life, I wish I had a Nashotah House into which I could retreat; and I find myself looking for a Nashotah House just for me. Some place in a distant memory maybe there is one. Haven't found it yet. The closest I can get is to remember sitting in front of my friend’s fireplace on a snowy afternoon drinking a glass of whiskey, and watching old man winter do his best to slow down the pace of our lives.
When the forces of nature work against you, and make you slow down, or even stop, where is your Nashotah House? If you find one, give me a call. I will bring the whiskey.
Once upon a time I had a very close friend who was an Episcopal priest. He and I were alike in many ways, and in many ways we were different. Over the years, we shared many experiences in each other’s lives. Then things became strained, and then the relationship stopped altogether as we developed a different view of the world and said some things to each other we shouldn’t have. Sometimes things can't be taken back.But I did learn one important lesson from him. He attended seminary at a place called Nashotah House in Nashotah, Wisconsin. He often spoke fondly of it, and how happy he would be to move back there permanently. I always thought that was a bit strange because it was frickin’ Wisconsin. Lots of snow and lots of cold. Why would anyone want to live there?
But over the years I heard him not only talk about the peace of the place, but live the peace in his life. Some of my fondest memories of my friend were centered around how he handled down time. I mean “forced” downtime. What do you do when the electricity goes out, or the phone goes dead, or you get snowed in for several days? He knew what to do. I don’t think it came natural to him. It's a skill and he learned it. I never did.
If my electricity goes out, after 10 minutes I am on the phone to the electric company, and after 30 minutes I am in the car driving around looking for the electric company truck. If the phone goes dead, I positively panic, then get shakin’ mad when I get the automated voice saying phone service will be restored within two days. Two days? And when the cable goes out, that is the worst. I can live without many things, but not my cable. I have to be connected.
My friend was not that way. I spent many snowy afternoons in front of his log burning fireplace watching him enjoy the easy side of life as the snow blew outside. He often talked about Nashotah House and the times he and his then wife would be snowed in, sometimes with electricity, sometimes without, often times for days. He never talked about the inconvenience, but always about the wonder and marvel of nature forcing us humans to slow down a bit, and make the best of some peaceable time. Sure there are things to do, but they can wait. If the bills are a day late, so what? Our job can do without us for a day. The work will still be there tomorrow. Then he would pull up an easy chair in front of the fireplace, and have a glass of whiskey.
I am not sure whether I could ever be like my friend, and to be honest, sometimes that laid back attitude was a tad irritating. On the other hand, when things get out of hand in my life, I wish I had a Nashotah House into which I could retreat; and I find myself looking for a Nashotah House just for me. Some place in a distant memory maybe there is one. Haven't found it yet. The closest I can get is to remember sitting in front of my friend’s fireplace on a snowy afternoon drinking a glass of whiskey, and watching old man winter do his best to slow down the pace of our lives.
When the forces of nature work against you, and make you slow down, or even stop, where is your Nashotah House? If you find one, give me a call. I will bring the whiskey.
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