After a whirlwind 4 day trip back to colorado for my birthday (yes, here we are another year), I am back in DC and i can't believe my life.
last christmas, before going to el salvador i considered taking a few summer courses and graduating early, but decided against it. I revisited the idea at the end of last week and... i am going for it. and so july is going to be absolutely nuts!
i am a camp counselor at a peace camp july 6 - august 7, which, ironically enough are the same dates as my classes (though one of my class lasts until august 15...) so in 2 weeks (after a week at the beach with my aunt and cousin) this is going to be my life:
7 wake up
730 mass with the sisters
8 -ish jump on bus
9-3 peace camp!
4-530 a psych class
6-8 an art class
fridays i'll continue my work in the psych lab and work on campus (as i have been doing in the evenings) just on a few weekends a month.
ohmygoodness ohmygoodness!
then after aug 7, i will have a week of just my psych class, then a week of just camp (meanwhile writing a final paper for my lab work...) a weekend, an IV leadership retreat and then it will be my last semester.
and perhaps once i graduate (after a brief sprint to europe) i will return to work, WORK, in el salvador.
sometimes i wonder if this is a movie or a book or a dream. can it be real?
it's just life, anyway!
23 June 2009
14 June 2009
PEACE
http://www.paxchristiusa.org/the_cpv/winter2009/story5.pdf (page 1)
http://www.paxchristiusa.org/the_cpv/winter2009/story5_part2.pdf (page 2)
this is an amazing article about MJ and Jerry Park. I'm a counselor at one of their peace camps this summer and work at one of their after school programs with MJ during the school year
http://www.paxchristiusa.org/the_cpv/winter2009/story5_part2.pdf (page 2)
this is an amazing article about MJ and Jerry Park. I'm a counselor at one of their peace camps this summer and work at one of their after school programs with MJ during the school year
11 June 2009
1 month minus 2 days
nearly a month back. i still think of my kids every day. william my mischievous energetic 6 year old, marina his impish monkey-loving sister, blanca from my morning class so so lista and dying to learn, i could list all of their names, something little about each of them but that wouldn't be enough.
i have post cards to send to them but haven't been able to do it yet. somehow sending something, the acknowledgment of ... what? that i'm not there any more? that i'm not there any more.
and while at times this breaks my heart, not knowing when i will see these little ones again and that whenever i do it will not be quite the same ever again, that we will never have 1.5 hr twice a week to learn english and play games and laugh and tease and be again. so while at times this breaks my heart, i am also so happy to be back. to come home every day to my little room and breathe in the wood, to talk to beatrice one of the guards in spanish, to be at morning mass with the sisters, to be working at a peace camp, in the jes res, in a psych lab. to have breakfast with em each morning, to be able to easily call and just chat with my family whenever. there are times that i feel so alive i can hardly contain it and that somehow amidst all the mess in my life and in the world around me, that somehow everything is just...right. and then at other times i feel as though i am keeping busy busy busy (even when i don't have to be some where i collapse into my bed and either fall asleep or watch gilmore girls...) so as to not have to think about reflect upon process digest the fact that i went that i came back. and that somehow, everything has to change although everything is the same.
el salvador was hard and difficult and horrible and horrifying. it made me rage it made my sob it made me afraid and at the same time to be able to rage, sob, fear -- there was a freedom in that. it was a journey that amidst the horror, and in all honesty probably party because of it, that was beautiful. to be confronted with the people, my community, in calle real and just the themness of them. to be confronted with myself, with God, with my faith, with my other casa students. to be confronted with and then united with all of these. to live so intense. to live so intentionally. to live so vulnerably. to live in solidarity (oh buzz word...breaking it down a bit: to live in togetherness, in community, each bringing all they are to the table, treating each other as equals...something like that...). to live integrated.
i don't live like that here. the question is how do i live or rather as i am not just the sum of my actions, the question is how do i be here? after living such a life for 4 months.
there are certain things that are hard to talk about being back. my faith and view of God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit for one--all of these were deeply and fundamentally changed by my time with a people who know and live in and live through such pain and hardship with such love and grace and so little bitterness. all of these were deeply and fundamentally changed by my time with casa by the support and encouragement and value we saw and placed in each other. all of these were deeply and fundamentally changed by my time with myself. Above all, God is love and if he is love, we live in him love him know him see him whatever in relationship with one anther. People. forget religion. I am talking about PEOPLE and as we relate with each other, acting out of love and compassion... well understanding and ideas of God in such intense relationships must change.
heretic. probably. blasphemy. very likely. or maybe not? maybe...truth? maybe a setting free of my caged god? An understanding that there is more than I could ever know or ever understand or ever hold on to and being so relieved. So relieved that it almost seems too good to be true. and... yes, fear. and feelings of being alone in this. that no one believes what i believe. that if i mention it or bring it up i will be shot down, maybe even with the words i started this paragraph with. so let me say them first. that my value as a person may be viewed as equivalent to the "rightness" of my theology. and that's crap. because the truth of the matter is none of us really know. no one, gracias a dios, has a complete full knowledge of God or how small he would be.
We have to walk together, lean on one another. to remember, as Father Mark says, "It is a wonderful thing to make a lot of mistakes." To not be afraid of getting it wrong. to risk. to love big. to make outrageous claims and try to follow through. grace is not earned nor is love deserved but both are gifted and the gift has nothing to do with the "rightness" of the faith of the recipient and everything to do with God's love and maybe even our own capacity to love. And in love and relationships it is messy and it isn't pretty and nothing is completely known. but the grace is to take that chance to be wrong. to put my heart on the line.
do you notice the tone as i write...toned down over the past few paragraphs...but one of impatience, defensive. and that needs to go. maybe i'm wrong maybe i'm heading somewhere with this... and the same with who ever i talk to whether or not they agree with me. and didn't i just say it's all about the love ("all you need is love, love") and if in my head things are adversarial even before a conversation begins, thats just me doing in advance what i'm so nervous is going to happen to me. so if i talk with you and God comes up, maybe help me to breath at the beginning of the conversation? i can't do this alone.
Nothing is more practical than finding God,
that is, than falling in love
in a quite absolute, final way.
What you are in love with,
what seizes your imagination,
will affect everything.
It will decide what will get you
out of bed in the morning,
what you will do with your evenings,
how you spend your weekends,
what you read, who you know,
what breaks your heart,
and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.
Fall in love; stay in love,
and it will decide everything.
-Pedro Arupe
i have post cards to send to them but haven't been able to do it yet. somehow sending something, the acknowledgment of ... what? that i'm not there any more? that i'm not there any more.
and while at times this breaks my heart, not knowing when i will see these little ones again and that whenever i do it will not be quite the same ever again, that we will never have 1.5 hr twice a week to learn english and play games and laugh and tease and be again. so while at times this breaks my heart, i am also so happy to be back. to come home every day to my little room and breathe in the wood, to talk to beatrice one of the guards in spanish, to be at morning mass with the sisters, to be working at a peace camp, in the jes res, in a psych lab. to have breakfast with em each morning, to be able to easily call and just chat with my family whenever. there are times that i feel so alive i can hardly contain it and that somehow amidst all the mess in my life and in the world around me, that somehow everything is just...right. and then at other times i feel as though i am keeping busy busy busy (even when i don't have to be some where i collapse into my bed and either fall asleep or watch gilmore girls...) so as to not have to think about reflect upon process digest the fact that i went that i came back. and that somehow, everything has to change although everything is the same.
el salvador was hard and difficult and horrible and horrifying. it made me rage it made my sob it made me afraid and at the same time to be able to rage, sob, fear -- there was a freedom in that. it was a journey that amidst the horror, and in all honesty probably party because of it, that was beautiful. to be confronted with the people, my community, in calle real and just the themness of them. to be confronted with myself, with God, with my faith, with my other casa students. to be confronted with and then united with all of these. to live so intense. to live so intentionally. to live so vulnerably. to live in solidarity (oh buzz word...breaking it down a bit: to live in togetherness, in community, each bringing all they are to the table, treating each other as equals...something like that...). to live integrated.
i don't live like that here. the question is how do i live or rather as i am not just the sum of my actions, the question is how do i be here? after living such a life for 4 months.
there are certain things that are hard to talk about being back. my faith and view of God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit for one--all of these were deeply and fundamentally changed by my time with a people who know and live in and live through such pain and hardship with such love and grace and so little bitterness. all of these were deeply and fundamentally changed by my time with casa by the support and encouragement and value we saw and placed in each other. all of these were deeply and fundamentally changed by my time with myself. Above all, God is love and if he is love, we live in him love him know him see him whatever in relationship with one anther. People. forget religion. I am talking about PEOPLE and as we relate with each other, acting out of love and compassion... well understanding and ideas of God in such intense relationships must change.
heretic. probably. blasphemy. very likely. or maybe not? maybe...truth? maybe a setting free of my caged god? An understanding that there is more than I could ever know or ever understand or ever hold on to and being so relieved. So relieved that it almost seems too good to be true. and... yes, fear. and feelings of being alone in this. that no one believes what i believe. that if i mention it or bring it up i will be shot down, maybe even with the words i started this paragraph with. so let me say them first. that my value as a person may be viewed as equivalent to the "rightness" of my theology. and that's crap. because the truth of the matter is none of us really know. no one, gracias a dios, has a complete full knowledge of God or how small he would be.
We have to walk together, lean on one another. to remember, as Father Mark says, "It is a wonderful thing to make a lot of mistakes." To not be afraid of getting it wrong. to risk. to love big. to make outrageous claims and try to follow through. grace is not earned nor is love deserved but both are gifted and the gift has nothing to do with the "rightness" of the faith of the recipient and everything to do with God's love and maybe even our own capacity to love. And in love and relationships it is messy and it isn't pretty and nothing is completely known. but the grace is to take that chance to be wrong. to put my heart on the line.
do you notice the tone as i write...toned down over the past few paragraphs...but one of impatience, defensive. and that needs to go. maybe i'm wrong maybe i'm heading somewhere with this... and the same with who ever i talk to whether or not they agree with me. and didn't i just say it's all about the love ("all you need is love, love") and if in my head things are adversarial even before a conversation begins, thats just me doing in advance what i'm so nervous is going to happen to me. so if i talk with you and God comes up, maybe help me to breath at the beginning of the conversation? i can't do this alone.
Nothing is more practical than finding God,
that is, than falling in love
in a quite absolute, final way.
What you are in love with,
what seizes your imagination,
will affect everything.
It will decide what will get you
out of bed in the morning,
what you will do with your evenings,
how you spend your weekends,
what you read, who you know,
what breaks your heart,
and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.
Fall in love; stay in love,
and it will decide everything.
-Pedro Arupe
31 May 2009
movie...again
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3g63TWwtq0M
you can watch it big here! ...be sure to click on HQ (high quality)
:)
you can watch it big here! ...be sure to click on HQ (high quality)
:)
Remember. versions 1 and 2
Remember.
Remember what it feels like to
be free,
to lie in the grass while the sun
kisses you, while the wind
caresses you. Knowing you are
created
alive
loved
blessed as you close your eyes, breathing
in all of this life and you
sneeze. Oh! How
human you are, little one. How
wonderfully human
Remember?
Remember what it feels like to
be human?
To curse and hurt and cry and rage
at this, betrayal, pain so deep that
you are lost. lost
lost
lost until you find the courage
to weep
lost until someone holds
you close, weeps with you, your
head on their should and
you know
freedom.
**above is the rewrite as i lost the original, which i just found so here is the first one:
Remember.
Remember what it feels like to
be free.
To lay in the grass while
the sun kisses you, while
the wind caresses you and you,
you know you are
alive
created
loved
blessed as you sneeze into the grass.
How human you are little one,
how
wonderfully human.
Remember.
Remember what if feels like to be human.
To rage and curse and cray
against your insignificance, against
a pain and betrayl so terrible
you are lost. lost.
lost.
lost until someone
calls your name out of
love. out of love calls you
back as you cry into their shoulder
and are freed
Remember what it feels like to
be free,
to lie in the grass while the sun
kisses you, while the wind
caresses you. Knowing you are
created
alive
loved
blessed as you close your eyes, breathing
in all of this life and you
sneeze. Oh! How
human you are, little one. How
wonderfully human
Remember?
Remember what it feels like to
be human?
To curse and hurt and cry and rage
at this, betrayal, pain so deep that
you are lost. lost
lost
lost until you find the courage
to weep
lost until someone holds
you close, weeps with you, your
head on their should and
you know
freedom.
**above is the rewrite as i lost the original, which i just found so here is the first one:
Remember.
Remember what it feels like to
be free.
To lay in the grass while
the sun kisses you, while
the wind caresses you and you,
you know you are
alive
created
loved
blessed as you sneeze into the grass.
How human you are little one,
how
wonderfully human.
Remember.
Remember what if feels like to be human.
To rage and curse and cray
against your insignificance, against
a pain and betrayl so terrible
you are lost. lost.
lost.
lost until someone
calls your name out of
love. out of love calls you
back as you cry into their shoulder
and are freed
29 May 2009
wild geese, carm, campo...home?
carm and me in the campo walking the looong walk home after one of the many easter week masses. over it is a poem by mary oliver, whom i love.
i don't know. coming home is hard. this picture and poem together say something i don't really have the words for
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