I've been blogging for over six years now, which means that when I got started, I was a lawyer turned teacher and a married mom of twin college freshmen and a high school junior. I had no premonition of anything that would transpire over the next six years:
An introduction to Ignatian spirituality through some graduate classwork in literature, a year-long-Ignatian retreat in everyday life, and resultant decisions to become a spiritual director and head for seminary ~
The graduation of all of our children from college ~
The death of our beautiful Chicago Son by suicide ~
The decision to complete the work I had begun, so that now I find myself a seminary graduate, a spiritual director, and a mother, learning to live in the context of shattering loss.
Metanoia is a Greek word with a more expansive definition than its frequent translation as "repentance" ~ its meaning incorporates the idea of a turn in direction, a change of heart. I am not yet ready for such a transformation, but I am experiencing slight nudges toward whatever life will be in the wake of the devastation that loss of a child entails. A return to what once was is foreclosed, but I am willing to think in terms of inclination toward something new.
"To incline" implies a degree of hesitation, a certain fragility, an experimental move ~ some of which might describe the present. Metanoia, I think, is for the long term.