Wednesday was my day off and I decided to return to Oban and purchase those souvenirs I left behind. My friend was leaving on the early ferry and I went along with her. She had completed three months as a volunteer on Iona and was continuing her travels in the United Kingdom by visiting Belfast and London. But first she was having her hair done, to rid herself of “island hair.” As we sailed along on the ferry we chatted about the return to civilization.
Now that is somewhat of a misnomer. Iona itself is civilized. Indeed, I have been in far less civilized places. I have a warm bed, with a mattress, hot and cold running water and don’t share the bathroom with a large spider. We eat very well, no make that excellent, which I help craft. There is apparently, unlimited font of tea, and somewhat marginal coffee. I do rush off to work most days having to meet a deadline. There is pressure associated with work. There are meetings to attend, although all conveniently crammed into one day. And social life, holy pete, I have more of a social life on island with a resident population of 150 people than I do at home. Just this week I have a poetry reading, two dances, two parties and a concert to attend, and that’s only up until Tuesday.
Beyond all that once you leave this island and the next (Mull) and the next (UK) to return home. There are things my fellow vollies are concerned about. For example, how will I be able to maintain a rhythm of life that includes at least daily worship? How will I recall that I am living in community when I don’t share a home with 13 others? And my greatest concern? What will I do about keys? We don’t use keys. Nothing is locked. My room isn’t locked. The house isn’t locked. The kitchen isn’t locked. The Abbey isn’t even locked. How will I function again in a world so filled with a lack of peace and justice that all those keys are required?
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