Until last Sunday, Monticello was one of those little Georgia towns that simply beckoned to me from an exit sign off of I-20. I had heard of it before, but never found a reason to visit it as I made my way to east to Augusta, to Hilton Head, or even to see my sister Nicole who lives in a little South Carolina town called Sumter.
But last Sunday, I had a reason to make it my destination, as did several Northwest members. I had a hunch that there might be something restorative about this day trip. And, so I found myself on a bright cold morning navigating the curvy State Route 11, past fields with lone oak trees and barns, past herds of black cattle and glossy horses feeding on sweet grass. We converged at the local Methodist church on the main road, where we came to offer support to one of our congregants whose mother had passed away after a difficult journey with Alzheimer’s disease.
After a short and respectable service and gathering later at the gravesite, several of us drove caravan-style out of the cemetery and to the town square in search of the local Dairy Queen. Instead, we found ourselves walking into a soul food restaurant, which was the only one open at 3:00 pm. We proceeded to have what one of us referred to as “lupper” – not exactly lunch, not exactly supper. Over ribs, fried chicken, collard greens and cornbread, we talked about whether the heart really can feel loss, pain, or joy . . . or whether it’s all in the brain.
Scientist and philosopher Blaise Pascal wrote, “The heart has its reasons the mind will never know.” Pascal was likely talking about hunches and emotional convictions . . . intuitive knowing that some attribute to the heart rather than the head. As I made my way back home, full of soul food and soulful conversation, I realized that my hunch about the journey was spot on. It was indeed a restorative day in the little town of Monticello.