A Place for Miracles (And Hopefully Introverts)

I’m sitting in a little cabin room in the woods at a non-Jewish retreat facility.

The entrance sign said, “A Place for Miracles.”

I saw that, and said, out loud, as I drove past: “Holy Shit.”  Is there a miracle for me here? That’s intense if so.

It’s kind of a spooky vibe here, like a lot of authenticity exploded out of the classrooms and stuck to the trees.  Everyone’s stories and realities haunting the place with hope. (Or maybe I just made all that up because I was still so stunned by the miracle sign.)

I get to the dining room and realize how much of an introvert I am.  I do NOT want to talk to these people, or try to figure out which stranger to sit with, and I’m super thankful that I can’t eat anything because it gives me an excuse to go hide in my room and eat my kosher dinner by myself after I register.

The whole thing reminds me of when I changed schools in the middle of ninth grade, and I didn’t know who sat with whom and where there would be an opening for me (literal and social), and it was a tiny school, so I can’t imagine how this must feel at a huge school.  I went through the cafeteria line and then just stood staring at rows and rows of tables of kids who all knew each other, and finally my nervousness pushed me to just pick one hastily, and I ended up sitting with the 8th grade class instead of 9th.  Which does NOTHING for your coolness.  The next day, thank G-d, I think it was Joanna Garner who rescued me and said, sit with us, sit with us.  Thank you, Joanna! =) We’re still FB friends.

Anyway, tomorrow, I won’t need a Joanna; I’m hoping I can ease myself into some conversations tonight so that by tomorrow these people won’t be strangers anymore.

My mom said, “Is this a co-ed thing?! Maybe you’ll meet your husband there. I hope there will be some happy people there.”  (It’s called the Happiness Weekend.)

“Probably the opposite – people who want to be happy but aren’t,” I say.

“Oh Lord, well maybe you don’t want to meet your husband there… you don’t want to meet a depressed psycho!”

So… if anyone ever wonders where I get my hopeless romantic optimism which can swing on a dime to humorous melodrama…. it’s HER.

K, I will be lighting candles soon and then trying to learn something without being able to take notes.  Good thing miracles don’t need pencils!

Good Shabbos everyone.

miracles