Responding to the After Effects of Jet Lag
I happen to think that, while the term is an accurate descriptor, "jet lag" is too sterile to describe the effects on one's consciousness. In my case, I feel that jet slag would be more appropriate. Yesterday, after blogging, I went and crashed, face down, mouth open, drool everywhere, half dressed, for three hours. Then, last night, I fell asleep around eleven thirty and woke up promptly at 4:30 A.M. This makes perfect sense to me because 4:30 A.M. corresponds approximately with 9:30 P.M. in the US, which happens to be the regular time that I get out of bed. WTF!?
Everything went well this morning. I was awake at 6:30ish when we got up to have breakfast before going over to the International Teaching Center for the aptly titled, "Tuesday Morning Prayers." Four or five readers each read a prayer and then Mr. Paul Lample introduced the visitors to the World Center, new arrivals, and departures. There are approximately 800some people working at the World Center. I felt more than awkward being introduced to the community here by a member of the House of Justice, that's probably normal. After prayers Kristen and I hung out in the lounge of one of the buildings waiting for the psychologist to have some free time. There we met a young lady from Finland, Ginger, who is serving with the janitorial staff. Having worked with the janitorial staff at Louhelen (as well as the kitchen) I have an immense amount of respect for the youth who are doing the work here. It is roughly the amount of work that youth are asked to do at Louhelen multiplied by four. They're incredible.
After waiting in the lounge Mara toted us around the Arc, again, until we ended up in the Center for the Study of the Texts. There we met the psychologist to whom Mara attributes much of her sanity. There we briefly discussed our level of involvement in psychology, some of our perspectives, and brief carreer goals. Then she had us off researching some topics for her. Unfortunately, I was placed at a computer that was a BWC network administrator and I couldn't log in. So, I wandered for a while trying to find a computer. Blah, Blah, Blah, nothing special happened.
We had lunch with Mara, Mark, and a million people who were excited to meet us introduced themselves. Hi, guys, I'm sorry if I forget who you are. I know that I look a lot like Mara and am, thereby, easily identifiable. I'm sorry if I don't remember meeting you, it was approximately two in the morning to my body. Coming home, Kristen and I got lost in the gardens, which was unfortunate because our feet hurt. Even still, I don't mind not knowing how to get around in the gardens because they command reverence and are a little tranquilizing.
When we got home, Kristen and I fought off a nap for as long as possible. But, alas, Odysseus, aided by the Lord Poseidon and the great duel between Achilles and Hector finally won their way through a trojan horse (one of us ended up horizontal, accidentally, and that was the end of consciousness). But, in the end, Aeneas escaped after an hour and a half of Troy burning. In other words we fell asleep for about ninety minutes. I was apparently a reall pooh to wake up. I love you Kristen!
New insights:
The gardens are still beautiful. When it rains, the red dust from the paths spills out onto the marble walkways and temporarily stains them a rust color. The beauty of the gardens is that they are located in midst of the city. The gardens are not silent. You can hear the bustle of the city all around you. But the noise is dampened by the gardens, muted, and made into a small miracle of its own. The miracle is the metaphor of the gardens in the center of a busy city. The spiritual center of a body, silent and seperate, yet as much a part as anything else, sits and serves as a center of calm while life and daily activity blurs by seemingly unnoticing.
Israel is an amazing nation. The more I am here the more I appreciate Haifa and its residents. Without the current construction of Israel, with Acre, in Israel, across the bay, Bahji would be in Syria. The Baha'is would unlikely have the freedom that they do in Israel if Bahji were in Syria. The pilgrims are an odd assortment of people. We have our occasional encounter with them but are here for different reasons and so we don't spend any time with them, really. I'm tired and am going to head off to bed tonight. Enjoy.
Mensch, it was Mr. Paul Lample (as opposed to Mr. Ian Semple, perhaps?).
And Ginger is from Finland.
I'll stop there at the corrections. . .
By the way, we have oodles of pilgrims to visit. You will encounter more. :)
Posted by: Mara at December 21, 2005 1:52 AMThanks Mara, I've updated it to be correct. Finland is now spelled Finland and I'm pretty sure that it's Paul Lample.
Posted by: Mendon at December 21, 2005 7:25 AM