Slowly, I turned, step by step, inch by inch

Remember the old Three stooges sketch? "Slowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch...." I think that is my newest relating tool. Ever so slowly I am turning, step by step, inch by inch. I recently went to St. Xenias skeet/ monastery in Wildwood California. I left my three children, husband and inlaws to hold down the fort while I left with 3 other women for 5 days. We left around 10 in the morning and had planned on spending the night in Klamath Falls. In our van it was myself, Matushka (our priests wife) and Alexandra (long time friend) and Matushkas 13 year old son. We stopped in Bend to do a little Goodwill shopping (2 hours later) then headed to Klamath Falls to bed down for the night. Have to admit I was impressed with this paticular Motel 6-clean and comfortable. My two other friends headed out to a Walmart while I got comfy and ready for bed. I'm not a night owl. By now it's around 11:30pm. We finally turned out the lights and rested our travel weary bones. By this leg of the journey, I have laughed for the first time in 15 months. I laughed good and hard, bringing tears to my eyes. I laughed about silly girl things and silly phrases, I laughed about life experiences and shared memories. I laughed and laughed....good medicine! The next day we proceeded to Redding, California where we met up with my God-daughter and her husband (my husbands God-son)-also long time friends. We were now a traveling band of 4 giddy women, 1 good natured husband, 1 very tolerant 13 year old son and a partidge in a pear tree. We practically ran with drooling mouths into In-n-out burger (a California restaurant icon), then to Costco to make some purchases to bring to the nuns and monks we were going to be visiting. The 6 six of us drove another 1.5 hours down a roller coaster road, while making sound effects of course, and arrived at St. Hermans in Platina around 1pm. St. Hermans is where the men stay when they go to visit. After a brief tour, blessing from the Abbot and dropping off our men folk, we women piled into the van and headed another 8 miles north to St. Xenias. We arrived with excitement, expectations, and stepped into the unknown. For three of us it was our first visit here. We were greeted by Nitria, and Korfu the dogs and Mother Theopania . I instantly felt as if I was home. The next 5 days would be spent in our own little sleeping "cells", in a beautifully rustic church, an outdoor church and meals would be in a little building with no running water. A trip to the bathroom would take you either to an outhouse with a taplight, or a new flushing toilet in the opposite direction. I usually chose the latter. When night fell so did our eyes as there isn't any electricity except in the office (where we never were). A trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night was out of the question for me, since I became a big chicken in the darkness of the woods. During the day we would fill flower pots, transplant new starts, weed flower beds and relish every moment being in this holy place. Our day started with services at 5:30 am. Breakfast would follow with spiritual reading. From there it was various activities as I said, we did take a trip with Mother Olga to pick some lilacs for the churches. So much happened, yet didn't happen. There was so much activity yet none. Everything was so rugged yet comfortable. Every meal had flowers on the table, and every afternoon we sat down for tea. I listened to the mothers talk, advise and love. I cried, I laughed I came home having turned a corner. There are so many treasures to talk about on this trip, but I wouldn't do them justice trying to get them in right now. I went to the monastery hoping for "healing" from my depression, hoping to find direction in living in this world as a different person. I came away with tools to use during the dark times-and a repentative/gratefulness for having gone through this year. I came away with a new understanding of Christs love for me and humbled heart. I cried when I left and Mother Dorothea said she hoped she hadn't worn us out with the work that we did there. I cried and told her I was worn out when I came, but I was leaving refreshed. Upon telling a friend of my experiences she mentioned it sounded like I turned a corner...I thought about it and yes, it was exactly like that. I'm not healed as I had hoped, but I have turned a corner in this journey. I've had two dark moments in the few days I have been home but I have also been able to use the tools I have been given and it seems to help. The abbot as well as my spiritual father have suggested and blessed me to go into therapy now. I'll be seeing an orthodox therapist who will help me learn new coping tools. No more anger is allowed. Yikes! I'll learn new ways to deal with my daily stress and depression. I'll learn how to live in the foreign land we call life. I'm not wishing for death anymore, though it would welcomed if it came on it's own. But my desire is not to leave this world anymore, it is to join Jesus in His world. That's a corner I turned also. So to recap:
I turned from despair to struggling hope
I turned from emptiness to humility
I turned from whining to gratitude
Hopefully I'll keep turning.