Sliding Into Home

I am settling in to a life that is not mine. I am a visitor, yet for now I am living here. I am familiar with this city. There are landmarks here with which I have memories. And yet I am not from here, in the way I am from my home. 

In the last two days I have been privy to discussions of or lectures on Spanish history, in particular the history of Santiago the city and Santiago the apostle. It has occurred to me that there may never be anything that can be called the "true" description of events, even in the present. When I describe an event, I bring to that event my own view of the world then filter the event through the sum total of all my experiences. The facts, from my point of view, are as I filter them. 

In law school my evidence professor had a couple of people run into the room and perform a short vignette. They left and he asked the class to describe what had happened. There were as many versions of the "facts" as there were people describing them. If this is true of a two minute segment of time in the here and now, imagine that magnified over time periods of years or centuries. 

I know what I was taught in school was, to describe it generously, a white washed version of a collective story. So, I wonder about "facts" about events that occurred about 20 years ago, never mind 2000 years ago. I view history, or even current events, as a story woven by the teller. I must have developed this point of view early in life, because I often questioned things that were delivered to me as "facts." Yes, I was a "difficult child" or a "trouble maker" from a very early age. 

There were many times in my life when I wished I could just accept what people said without questioning, without debate or argument. But, that just didn't seem to be my role in life. I believe though, that maybe, just maybe, after years of practicing these principles in all my affairs and trudging this spiritual road, that I may be approaching the point where I can listen without disputing another persons version of the "facts." It certainly makes life a lot easier. 

Today I listened to a discussion about religion and spirituality in Spanish among mostly folks who have devoted their lives to the Catholic faith. It was a philosophical discussion for the most part, though clearly there were some that felt their opinions strongly. These kind of discussions, when they last longer than an hour give me a headache, even when they are in English. I did get a headache, but I didn't need to dismiss, argue, or debate. It's all ok. 

I cannot come close to describing what a miracle this is for me. It is, perhaps, another moment of Grace. Just being present physically and mentally to recognize and experience that is occurring within me is, for me, a spiritual experience. I feel a quieting within me,   It is like I finally fit in the puzzle. This is very hard to describe. I feel like I am slipping into place. Maybe, in time, I will find, or be given the words to describe it.