Journeys of a Pregnant Virgin

It is Sunday morning and I feel as if I have finally caught my breath after a relentless (and self-chosen, I might add) schedule of lectures and seminars. It's my first weekend "off" since I arrived on the 1st of November. Wednesday was my first breather, with not one but two very enjoyable coffee visits at Spruengli in the course of the day and more walking in the icy autumn air than I've done in quite a while. Marathon Thursday with its twelve lecture hours proved both exhausting and exhilarating. For the most part it was all interesting and some of it quite inspiring as well. But so much to take in and absorb. My brain hurt!

I'd debated about attending a four hour lecture yesterday as well but when my tired body finally woke up at 9:25 am, quite unheard of for this early riser, I took it as my cue that a quiet day at home was in order. So I did some reading for next Saturday's Individuation seminar, and then walked into town, only to remember that Christmas shopping is in full swing and the crowds were thick on Bahnhofstrasse. I'm not sure what the two beautiful camels were doing on the sidewalk, but there was a happy throng gathered around them and they didn't seem to mind the attention, likely accustomed to the odd behaviour of human animals. They certainly had an expression of amusement on their faces. I kept on walking and picked up a few groceries and a few additions to my impressive stash of Christmas chocolate (my whole family being chocoholic, there is never too much of a good thing when it comes to chocolate). Then I returned to my cozy room, carried on with my reading and sipped coffee and nibbled away. I even cooked a simple supper between several lengthy long-distance telephone visits. Yesterday came closest to the leisurely feeling of my previous semester here and I enjoyed the reprieve.

Today is another day off and I shall finally take the tram to Forch to visit my friends whom I have not seen since my return. I'm looking forward to another rich and provocative visit and have picked up some Spruengli treats to fuel the discussion. As I reflect on my last semester, those visits were certainly among my most stimulating times, both in and out of seminars, and I realized last week that I have missed them. At a certain point on the trip out, the tram emerges from a dark tunnel into a wide open landscape of green rolling hills as far as the eye can see, and I have a visceral sense of having left the peopled space of Zurich and entered another time and space, less "civilized" and perhaps more unpredictable.

I received word from the Admission Committee midweek that I have been accepted as a Training Candidate which means I can begin thinking ahead, both in practical matters and as far as possible essay and thesis topics are concerned. In one way this is a curious and unexpected way to be spending a considerable chunk of my fifties (can this really be my sixth decade of life?) and yet it seems to be what my soul desires and requires. Still, I will continue to take it one step at a time and know that I can continue through the entire process, or leave at any time, if my sense of inner vocation changes. In either case I will never regret the Zurich experience with all its rich nuances and opportunities.

As I write these "Letters Home and abroad" I am always aware of the fine line between reporting outer events without sharing their meaning to me, and opening up what should be held quietly in my soul to simmer and brew for the time being. This is the closest thing to public writing that I have done in a few years and it certainly feels different than my private journal writing or even my proprioceptive writing, shared with a few. More so than with my books, there is something quite personal? intimate? (I can't find quite the right word) about posting these lines with no idea of who might read them and even decide to respond. I've received a couple of unexpected emails that reminded me I really don't know who might be reading this! Not an unpleasant surprise, I hasten to add, but a surprise all the same.

Enough for now. A week from tomorrow I will soar back to the arms of my beloved and my beloved Vancouver. I'm hoping to write one more entry before I leave and will be on the lookout for a good quote with which to end my 2005 "Letters from Zurich". Meanwhile, Happy first Advent Sunday and peace and fulfilment to all in this overbusy month of December.