Reality check, 1…2…3.

I wasn’t sure what to write about for today’s post until I showed up for my math class last night. In case you’re new around here, I’m also a “non-traditional” college student. As soon as I walked into the classroom, my instructor handed me a slip of paper.

“You need to get this signed.”

Me: “What is it?”

“Attendance warning slip.”

When I started college the first time back in 2001, my instructors didn’t take attendance and therefore didn’t care if I showed up or not. Now I attend a local community college and they do care, so much so that a certain number of “contact hours” must be achieved to pass the class regardless of your average. Turns out, if I’m even late to my next class, I’m dropped.

I knew I’d missed some class time, but not that much.

Which brings me to the point of today’s post. I knew at the beginning that Project Conversion would demand a fair amount of my time. Everything was fairly manageable at first, but as the semester wore on it became increasingly clear that I’d bitten off something huge. Project Conversion demanded more and more of my time, more and more of my attention, and soon my grades and attendance began to slip.

I’m still an A/B student at this point, but just barely. Study time for tests consists of my going to class the day of the test about 10 minutes early and looking over notes I may or may not have from previous class time. Then I basically wing it on a method of guessing and process of elimination. Meanwhile, I’m learning more about religion than any classroom could provide. So much so that my World Religions instructor asks me to give a 40 minute lecture every month.

Here toward the end of the semester, I wish I would have better anticipated the time crunch I’m going through now. Because of this, I’ve decided not to sign up for classes the rest of the year. Project Conversion: the research, the interviews, the travel, the holidays, the planning…it all takes up so much of my time. In fact, if I sat down and calculated the time I spend on Project Conversion I’d say it adds up to between 80 to 90%–that’s with eating and sleeping including, because I often dream (provided I even sleep) about what I’m learning and focus on prayers while eating.

Oh yeah, I’m also a father and husband.

So why have I missed class time? Because I simply forget. Class is the last thing on my mind when I’m deep in research about a topic for the month. I’m in no way a multi-tasker. I give 100% of my attention to whatever I’m doing at the time, so if I’m digging up information about, say, the Holocaust, the last thing I’m thinking about is my math class in half an hour. I’ve honestly forgotten to take a shower until about dinner time. My kids hardly fight for my attention anymore, although their curiosity about what I’m doing each month are always high.

I’ve missed events. I’ll likely miss others.

So what’s the point here? Am I looking for pity or a pat on the back for my commitment? Hell no. I continue with Project Conversion because I know deep down that this year is the point in my life where my entire perspective on reality will shift for the better. My family knows this too and though we struggle, yes WE, to bring Project Conversion to ourselves and you, our little piece of existence will be better in the long run. Some things are just larger than ourselves and we simply yield to them.

Another point to consider is that this time struggle is a lesson in asceticism. I never thought of myself as an ascetic until now because when I think of these folks I always conjure images of skinny dudes with matey hair and long stares wandering through the forests and streets seeking enlightenment. An ascetic is basically someone who cuts themselves off from society to find spiritual/philosophical truths. Sure, I still live in my house with my family, but if most of my time is consumed by study and writing about what I’m studying, am I much different than those mountain hermits?

The great irony behind Project Conversion is that research, study and practice are often so intense due to a lack of time that I don’t always have the chance to actually live. Take the last three months (including April) for example. Each of these three abhor asceticism and insist upon the devotee to lead fruitful lives within society. Due to the nature of my efforts, I simply can’t. There’s no way I can transmit this information–these experiences–to you if I’m not fully engaged in learning. The moment I decrease that time and energy, I lose valuable knowledge. This is why a spiritual quest takes a lifetime. I get one month.

This brings me to the theological question/lesson for the day. How much is too much? How much of our spiritual lives is transferable to our social/emotional lives? Is the currency we gain via religious study, worship and ritual transferable? The idea here is balance, but different faiths offer different proportions (and some none at all) to this ratio. Is living itself worship or does one’s experience in one give life to the other? Judaism itself is a faith that directs us to live as fully as we can here and now, but no matter what faith I belong to at any point this year, I am in effect, a hermit in my own home.

What will I be once it’s over? Who are you now in your spiritual life?

I would stick around for the answers, but I just remembered that I have class…and I haven’t showered yet.

Shalom.