On Earth as in Heaven ~ Holden Village

The journey to Holden Village felt a bit like the beginning to a nursery rhyme. First was the long drive to the bed and breakfast, where we were greeted by an exuberant cat and a fresh layer of crystalline snow. Then came the ferry ride through the gray lake with a darkening sky above and the gradually fading of cell phone signals, and finally a trip up the hill and into the village in a cold and well-packed school bus sporting a good 6 inches of snowflakes on its roof. After the fairy tale journey into the Holden, it was hardly a surprise to see a tiny town straight out of the Polar Express spread into the valley before us.
Our first greeter within the village was Olaf, an independent 4 year old adventurer who was much better at scrambling around on the icy paths than I. He was one of a herd of little ones who seemed to exemplify the spirit of Holden- silliness, fairness, and holy hilarity. I watched them embrace two young girls who came to the village towards the end of our stay. They were part of a “permanent” Holden family, meaning that they’d be staying for a year or two. The other kids dutifully helped unload their belongings and then quickly made sure that the new kids knew that any shyness would be unnecessary.
Besides the exuberant love of the village children, the most striking part of Holden was the way that foreignness and familiarity lived comfortably together. I’d never shoveled an inch of snow in my life, yet quickly found myself armed with an effective-looking metal shovel that stayed with me for a good eight hours. I’d never gone sledding before, at least not in a way that seemed adequate. At Holden, Mary Beth and I went sledding down Chalet Hill late at night, choosing our transportation with the help of the expert sledders from the elementary school. I was constantly placed in situations and environments that I’d never been a part of, but I always knew that I would be perfectly alright with whatever challenge was thrown at me. Our whole group embraced this concept- we ripped two lodge floors of carpet in just a few days. It was four degrees outside, and we were stripped down to t-shirts. It was good hard work.
The hard work of village maintenance was beautifully intertwined with the equally hard work of the spirit. Holden pulls emotions out into the open with surprising ease, and the nightly vespers services were a time for spiritual rest and intentional reflection. As we prayed and sang together (because Lutherans must sing everything), it was easy to imagine staying at Holden for a long time, and to be completely fulfilled.
Our retreat from Holden was not as picturesque as our way there. We got off the ferry to the news of a coming storm, and drove through the night to get back to OSU rather than staying at the Bed and Breakfast to mull over our experience. It was a jolt of reality that seemed to be a reminder of the world we were returning to, but now, from my real-life world that is so inherently different from the reality of Holden Village, I know that I can conjure the memory of the village and feel at home and at peace.

I've started considering spending a year at Holden after graduation. I could work with high school kids and gain practical experience as well as some rich life experience, so I think it would be a positive professional move as well as a personal one. The idea of being away from Morgan for a real year, not a year interspersed with breaks, is daunting, but it's a long way off. Maybe he could come with me, or maybe we'll be apart. A year at Holden would be a spiritual, interpersonal, culinary, and physical journey. It sounds perfect right now.