Here's part 2:

I went to the meeting the next week. I couldn't resist. Those three hours I'd spent at meeting the week before had been the shortest of my life. I felt completely at home. I had read everything I could find on the internet about the Quakers. I had to know if that was a fluke or if that experience was my home, at least for now.

I will say that the next meeting was less impressive than the first, but still excellent.

I managed to show up early enough to sing some hymns. I'd been out shouting in a bar the night before. But it was still fun to sing again.

The question at the beginning was if we can do more as a community to bring our practice to benefit our neighbors. A very worthy and thoughtful question. I couldn't help but bless the Quakers. It was obvious why they were, among other things, some of the first abolitionists.

But this question didn't solicit much comment during the meeting, which was fine. I had been spoiled, I think, the week before to hear several interesting stories about being vs. doing. This time the only person to speak was the man thanking us all for coming, and saying what a pleasure it was to worship with us. I still appreciated him saying what I was thinking.

I spoke with some people I'd met last week. I also met the live-in janitor of the building. I saw the same marvelous listening skills - a calmness, centeredness, and goodness that struck me. I don't think I'm used to being around people like this.

I remembered couple who'd been going to meeting together for almost 60 years. They invited me to lunch during the intermission. I accepted.

For the discussion section - we watched an outstanding video on forgiveness. I was in tears, for the second week in a row, nearly the entire time. And hearing their discussions and personal struggles was fascinating. We had to cut the discussion at an hour - it seemed many people still wanted to talk.

I played ball with a young girl from the meeting. I appreciated in that moment the intergenerational bridge of this meeting.

Lunch was delicious. I got into an interesting discussion about health policy. There was less centeredness at lunch. But as I left I got a chance to speak to a kind old lady. I told her I would be out church crawling for a while, and might not be back soon.

"Ok," she said. "We'll miss you."

This is what amazes me about the Quakers. It might be my own bias or something. But somehow they manage to say things like that without a tentacle, without any agenda or creepiness. It's just welcoming. I appreciated it, and felt that she meant it.