Since the move I've been trying to be more intentional about my time off. About getting out and having some fun and also feeding my creativity. I've decided to try and have Fridays as my Sabbath (my day for rest and fun), and then hopefully most Saturdays will also be a day off - except last week we had a Stewarship Workshop (very good!) and this week there's an Ordination (which I'm looking forward to).
About my first week or so here a priest friend "H" in the next town over (I knew her through another friend, we also met at GC 2006 in Ohio and are on the same clergy Egroup) asked myself and another priest friend "S" (who was a couple of years ahead of me at seminary) if we wanted to do lunch and go bowling - apparently they've gone at least once before. I said sure! I grew up in a bowling family. I used to keep score for my mom and dad's leagues with the old projector style scoring system where you actually had to do math to add up people's scores. I bowled in Junior Leagues. It was a fun time and a big part of my childhood.
H, S, and I met at a restaurant where they bring you peanuts as a snack and you can throw the peanut shells on the ground. H just couldn't bring herself to do it. *grin* But I decided to give it a go. It was very liberating and fun to just hold my hand out and drop peanut shells on the floor... I'm not sure why. Heh! So then we went bowling. I bowled a 95 and a 147. Not bad for someone who hasn't been bowling in probably at least a year and most likely several years. I think the last time I went was on a trip home, yeah and at my mom's old workplace that no longer exists... so definitely about 2 or 3 years. Oh no, wait... I did go bowling one time in the last year with our Special Adults group at my last parish. It was strange how bowling with these friends a couple weeks ago dredged up all that old history. Stuff in my head that just seems to be ingrained after all those years of my childhood like how to hold the ball, how to release it, why it might be curving in a particular direction, what to do to try to pick up a particular spare or split. A nostalgic experience.
I cracked up my landlord who is just a few years younger than me when I told her about how we'd gone bowling and how it sounds like the beginning of a joke to me: 3 priests walked into a bowling alley... I just can't figure out the rest of the joke yet. *grin*
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