I noticed on the inside cover of the Bible I use every morning that we were at the last day of Cursillo 12 years ago today. I made Cursillo history that morning by making everybody wait for me to start the early morning service. The staff came knocking on everybody's doors at some ungodly pre-dawn hour that Sunday saying we should all go to the chapel immediately, like there was some sort of emergency. Everybody but me complied. Not being an early morning person by nature, I balked. "I'm not going anywhere until I've had a shower and dressed," I told my roommate, "y'all go on without me."

As it turned out, they can't start until all participants are there. The early service is attended by not just those at the retreat but by our sponsors and former Cursillistas, as well, some of whom traveled many miles for this surprise welcoming and homecoming. Imagine my embarrassment when I finally made my appearance at a chapel service that was full to overflowing with people who wanted to congratulate and welcome us into the circle of the retreat's graduates and former graduates. I was the only one there fully dressed and with combed hair and make-up; everybody else was in sweats or bathrobes and most had not even taken the time to comb their hair. They all must have thought I was terribly vain to keep so many people, including the bishop himself, waiting while I took my time making myself presentable. I was teased unmercifully by those who knew me and some who didn't.

Cursillo is one of those spiritual mountain tops that is special while it lasts but not something I expect in my Christian life from now on. Most seemed to think it should continue forever and would if we continued to make the weekly and monthly reunion meetings and to follow the formula that had been carefully developed and prescribed. The evangelistic tone was a turn-off to me, and the exclusivity and secrecy of the whole group disturbed me. Coming from a very evangelistic background, I was alarmed by the number of Episcopalians who seemed to want to emulate what I was glad to leave behind with the Baptists.

It was billed as a leadership training retreat, and I realized I had not been called to leadership if this is what is required. It was like Summer Camp, Vacation Bible School and Revival Week all rolled into one event, much too much busy-ness for me. We met with the reunion groups called Ultreya a few times, but it seemed so elementary compared to what I'd already been taught that I soon lost interest. And as I soon discovered, most of the people who are involved with this movement are very conservative Republicans. None of them admired Bill Clinton, but me, and I had very little tolerance for their ridicule and derision for him and his fellow Democrats.

There is a large and lively contingent of this movement at St. Philip's. I've tried to persuade myself to get involved with them once again, but the one Ultreya meeting I attended was not something I could get enthused about. Some of my favorite people in the church are members of the group, and I always enjoy their company one-on-one, but put them all together and I feel nothing but relief when the whole thing is over. I wish I could be comfortable with them, but I'm not, and I can't pretend I am.

LaRue mentioned in her latest blog about being an introvert. When I took the Myers-Briggs personality test, I discovered that I am an INFP - introverted, intuitive, feelings and perception based, also interpreted to mean reserved, introspective, friendly, and probing. I was conditioned, trained, and expected to be extroverted for the first half of my life, but it wore me down. I need lots of down time, too, Friend, alone time, pondering time, blogging time. We do have a lot of differences, but in this way we are alike.

Henry David Thoreau said, If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.

Lots of women hear a different drummer, too.