up in canmore...

..at the Synod study conference.
This happens once a year, when pastors and church workers have the chance to get together for a couple of days and share ideas, hopes, dreams, failures, and beer with each other.

But mostly, you know, beer.

But oddly enough (and possibly what's worth blogging about) is that I wasn't among the group who went to the pub last night. Those who know me know me as a raging extrovert -- I thrive on being around people. Love it, love it. Before Seminary I loved working at jobs that brought me into interaction with all sorts of new people. Since I've been in Seminary I've found that those marketable 'people skills' are sometimes misunderstood but usually appreciated by people I meet.

My older brother diagnosed it as excessive-personality disorder; my friends occasionally find it annoying and my supervising pastor occasionally thinks I'm nuts. I don't necessarily disagree with him -- and I'm going to spend some time with a spiritual director to find a little more of that still small voice that allows me to take the time to seek quiet for reflection and calmness. The Lord knows, it can't hurt.

But last night we gathered for worship -- Holden Evening Prayer, for those who know it -- and then a reception afterwards. I had a HUGE amount of fun at the reception and saw a lot of people that I haven't seen for a long time. I drove up with the Bishop of the BC Synod in a car my supervisor loaned me for the occasion and we had some great conversation.

But afterwards, when I got back to the hotel and checked in, I was totally planning on heading out to the pub for some serious research (kinds of beer available, etc...). When I got every thing unpacked and called the co-Director though, something kinda odd happened.

I realized that I was absolutely, completely, utterly, exhausted. And the last thing I wanted to do was hang out with more people, no matter how much I liked them. I just couldn't motivate myself.

I'm familiar with the obligation to feed my inner introvert from time to time, but I've never really paid attention to a need to take time for myself. It was a bit...y'now...different.

I'm not certain that I could function as an introvert 100% of the time, but I'm beginning to see the usefulness of taking time to actually think through what I want to say and do.

For example, I really could have used those skills on Sunday. This Sunday we had the AGM, so only one service. The sermon was a dialogue between my supervisor and myself; he asked me some questions and I answered them. He'd given me a general idea of what he was going to ask, but when he asked the questions they were different than I expected in quite unexpected ways.

And the result was a hodgepodge in my head. Thoughts, ideas, and statements all running every which way. Words confused with each other as I re-wrote conclusions and statements in my head. I'm not even certain I had a point. I confused weeks with months, forgot things that we talk about every single week, even with him prompting me. In my mind, it was a mess, and I felt pretty terrible afterwards when I sat down to think. I resorted to MSU-influenced thought at one point, I think, and though I don't remember exactly what I said I remember thinking at the time, 'what?' (MSU is Making S**t Up, btw).

Maybe it's an age thing, maybe a maturity thing (God forbid.) But I really do need to spend more time in that quite space than making noise. Less time concerned with what people think about what I say, than saying what I actually feel.

Basically, learning how to interact with all people with the same sort of care and attention that I bring to my wife and close friends, instead of cracking silly jokes and generally making an ass of myself.

But old habits are hard to break. Wish me luck.