I’m not really a Catholic. I was baptized but never raised in the church and in my adult life I’ve been a bit of a religion-hopper.

Often I think about exploring my Catholic roots but have been put off by much of Catholic dogma that I just can’t subscribe to. There’s no need to list out specifics; you can guess.

Recently I discovered a Catholic practice called Eucharistic Adoration. It’s held for an hour every Friday morning at the church nearest to me; but it’s just not feasible with my routine of sleeping in. I’m not Catholic enough to disrupt my circadian rhythms, even for a practice that, for a Catholic rite, sounds pretty ill-defined and individual: sitting with the Eucharist, the real presence of Jesus, to be in deep prayer or awe or silence or whatever is your fancy for that hour.

I’m not a devout Catholic, but Mark Carney is, by all accounts. And as I watched him in his whirlwind trip from Ottawa to Prince Rupert to Beijing to Doha (and Davos very soon) I thought perhaps he could use some Eucharistic Adoration. A bit of a time out to take a breath and be with God, assuming he believes in God. Because things are so out of sorts these days, the global systems so quickly dismantling, the loose threads we rely upon so knotted and tangled, that maybe we all just need to stop. For a second. Or an hour, and look upon the Eucharist with love.

Or maybe he could use some sleep. This is me, projecting my own needs onto another person; I’m someone who can’t do much without sleep. I become foggy and cranky and unable to concentrate. It’s age, it’s personality. But I wonder how the Prime Minister sleeps on a plane, as he must have to, even if it’s decked out as his must be. Maybe he needs a nap, and time with God.

Or maybe he’s doing just fine. But it’s so hard to tell. It’s hard to watch the near-constant globe trotting and wonder where all of this is going to settle. It’s certainly true China had to come up on the Prime Ministerial radar; those tariff issues weren’t going to resolve themselves. But it all feels so strange and heavy, like no one is sure exactly what the final chapter is going to be, so we’re muddling through and doing our best. I had a weird image yesterday of myself in a few years, feeling more at ease travelling to Beijing for vacation than to Oregon. Which is a very odd sensation. It is odd to have your underlying assumptions turned upside down in such a short period of time, largely because of a dominant presence in the White House and his band of cronies who prop him up on a daily basis.

As a Canadian, as a voter, I want Mark to come home. I understand how hard our government is working to remove the American yoke from around our necks, but our government needs a pause. You need to rest between periods, because we’ve likely got at a couple more periods to go. You’ve had 20 minutes on the ice, taking more than your share of shifts, and we’ve got another 40 on tap. We don’t know who’s going to be added to the roster of the other team, and we don’t know if we’re going into overtime. So come home now, go for a skate, take a breath, take a nap, and adore the Eucharist. If God does take sides, let’s hope it’s ours.