On the Road to Find Out

Souvenir from the Philly Museum of Art.

I've been fortunate to have big, blinking neon signs when it's time to move on in my life. This is good because I'm about as dense as my great-grandmother's Southern pound cake.
As you know, I resigned as Global Outreach assistant, and I'm moving on to to a senior fundraising writer role. It's a switch, but I'm looking forward to the adventure. The new gig seems to combine all the best parts of GO and my previous journalism nerderity, so we'll see how it goes.

In the midst of this transition, my dear global friend Ruth passed away. I personally became acquainted with her when I started as GO assistant (because AW YISSSS, SPAIN), and we enjoyed a snail mail correspondence over the nearly four years. Her passing at 87 actually coincided with my resignation date, so there's an odd sense of closure. One of my favorite memories of her is her utter indignation at the Catalonian (separatist) flags during their independence day celebration. For that native madrileña, this was something one could not abide. In terms of faith, I hope I'm a quarter as fervent as she was in Kingdom work.

Recently I've been listening to an inordinate amount of Cat Stevens. Given that I once, in my green teenage years, compared his vocals to the sound of a feline vomiting (and now own a sometimes bilious cat), perhaps this is my penance. But on a walk up 17th Street, these lyrics engraved themselves on my brain. So on we go, each one on their marked path.