Gratitude

For spending time
months
listening
misunderstanding words
and feelings
but understanding
in my own way
only because others show me.

For the calmness of leaf-rustling
amidst chaos
heart peace
amidst worlds of war
visible and invisible.

For the hemispheres
knitted inside
but mostly the view
of each one
containing in itself and entire life
but not forgetting
to participate in the dance
holding hands
and sitting around the fire.

For a second chance
and those who
with patience
and with kindness
let me learn to love
with a heart
full and complete
a learning I fear, fear will never be finished
pero el cambio sigue
and I hope to always be reminded.

For learning to feed my soul
and for sister souls
in human bodies
that make their way to mine.

For restless heart syndrome
yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

For what I never imagined I'd see
or was there
not look at
but see

and the surprising

unexpected

sensation

of gift

like Roses in December.

Reflection

Soooooo…here’s a random post after a looooong time of not writing on this!  I had the best of intentions when I decided to blog last semester in El Salvador, but after a couple months I definitely just gave up.  My original intent was to keep a record of my experiences for close friends and family, and also (selfishly) to maybe make the transition a bit easier for me upon returning to the US knowing that close friends and family knew at least a little bit of what I was up to last semester and where I was coming from.  I got frustrated with my incapability to write out everything I was seeing and experiencing, and eventually kind of decided that I just wanted to LIVE the experiences, and not necessarily worry about documenting it or trying to get people at home to see and understand everything...which after so long would really be impossible.  After all, four months was a long time, and I realized El Salvador wasn’t just a trip I was taking but rather a home from a chapter of my life, and it felt weird to record my (what was then) normal daily/weekly/whatever life on the internet (cause that is weird…and annoying).  I’ve never FELT so much in my life, and not just then, but now too.  Felt the purest and most innocent joy and happiness, but also the deepest sadness and anxiety, sometimes both in one day.  I feel like I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve a lot of times and there’s nothing I can do about it.  I’ve also never witnessed such deeply HUMAN living – from being with people who live off their land, who work one day to live the next, who spend all morning preparing lunch, all afternoon preparing dinner, to being surrounded by people who are really, really good at living with and for other people and whose example makes me want to do the same with the greatest intention every single day.  I’ve seen how this world is so much bigger than my own worries and problems, and even writing this is another reminder of that to me, and the CONNECTEDNESS we have as humans whether we like it or not has been greatly comforting.  I can say that I have never met so many people in such a short time that have left such a strong mark on myself and on my heart.  I could list off a good amount of specific people that have impacted my way of thinking or moving through life and exactly how they did. I gained a family in Tepecoyo, and relationships with my housemates and some other friends that are some of the most REAL than I have ever had, because of a mutual willingness to be open, genuine, gentle with one another, and probably because like I said before, I’ve never learned so much from a group of people in one period of time like that.  And I say all that to express my gratitude.  I am so grateful for every opportunity, encounter, and person I have come into contact with over the last ½ year.  I’ve done a lot of questioning of my beliefs and faith, more than I ever have before which at some points has really shaken me to the core, but one thing I cannot deny is that God had his hand in placing me in El Salvador, in Casa Silvia, in Tepecoyo, with each specific person there.  And that gives me great comfort.  I definitely don’t want to just relive the past (well, I do, but really I don’t), but rather remain SO GRATEFUL for last semester and all of the blessings in my life that have come from it and intentionally carry each person and experience in my heart with me – as many have taught me - as crazy, crazy life moves on every day.  I also want to say, very very importantly, that it wasn’t just people in El Salvador that have occupied my mind in the last months; I know I don’t have to go to another country to find great relationships and people…I just happened to find a LOT of them there in one place.  I’ve been so grateful for my family and close friends, and some of these relationships have affected, challenged, and helped me to grow in an equally heart-wrenching way over the last months.  I’ve never been so scared for the future, TRULY, next month, next year, three years from now, but I’m also very excited because God is stinkin’ good and whatever he puts me through I know I have been given more tools to handle in the way that is best, and the truest beauty is sure to pop out at points along the way.  

Messenger

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird -
       equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect?  Let me
       keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
       astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
       and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
       to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
       that we live forever.

-Mary Oliver

Thirst

Another morning and I wake with thirst
for the goodness I do not have.  I walk
out to the pond and all the way God has
given us such beautiful lessons.  Oh Lord,
I was never a quick scholar but sulked
and hunched over my books past the
hour and the bell; grant me, in your
mercy, a little more time.  Love for the
earth and love for you are having such a
long conversation in my heart.  Who
knows what will finally happen or
where I will be sent, yet already I have
given a great many things away, expecting
to be told to pack nothing, except the
prayers which, with this thirst, I am
slowly learning.

-Mary Oliver

To Understand the World

And the children said unto Halcolm, "We want to understand the world.  Tell us, O Sage, what must we do to know the world?"

"Have you read the works of our great thinkers?"

"Yes, Master, every one of them as we were instructed."

"And have you practiced diligently your meditations so as to become One with the infinity of the universe?"

"We have, Master, with devotion and discipline."

"Have you studied the experiments, the surveys, and the mathematical models of the Sciences?"

"Beyond even the examinations, Master, we have studied in the innermost chambers, where the experiments and surveys are analyzed, and where the mathematical models are developed and tested."

"Still you are not satisfied?  You would know more?"  "Yes, Master, we want to understand the world."

"Then, my children, you must go out into the world.  Live among the people of the world as they live.  Learn their language.  Participate in their rituals and routines.  Taste of the world.  Smell it.  Watch and listen.  Touch and be touched.  Write down what you see and hear, how they think and how you feel."


"Enter into the world.  Observe and wonder.  Experience and reflect.  To understand a world, you must become a part of that world while at the same time remaining separate, a part of and apart from."


"Go then, and return to tell me what you see and hear, what you learn, and what you come to understand."

Simplicity

Simplicity of life is concerned with our relationship to things.  But at the heart of its meaning is the relatedness of persons.  It is positive and blessed because it is grounded in the right order of valuing persons over objects.

We travel light enough so that the goods of the earth may be enjoyed and celebrated by all.  We travel light enough so that we ourselves may be for persons, rather than expend our lives collecting, maintaining, and replacing objects.

In simplicity, we are empowered to see the destitute, to share of our abundances, to ease the dehumanizing poverty that cries out to us.  It enables us to give freely, to be more equitable.  It frees us to engage in the injustices of the world, which are often the source of personal degradation.  It makes us less fearful to put our own security at risk.

Simplicity gives us time for each other and for intimacy and friendship.

Simplicity is as related to love as it is to justice.  It is freedom from compulsive addictions and entrenched escape mechanisms.  It is liberty to see ourselves anew and to disengage from the comforts that blind us to the face of the poor.

It unfetters us, that we might play in and savor the moment, that we might give thanks and sing appreciation.

It can unlock us, finally, that we might do bold things, that we might more fully be women and men, not for things, but for people.

-John Kavanaugh, S.J.

semana en el campo

I spent all of last week in a small community called Nueva Trinidad in the department of Chalatenango.  Meg, Tom, and I stayed with a woman named Lillian who lived with her friend Rosalina.  They each had a daughter, ages 16 and 17, that trickled in and out through the week as well.  The week was definitely a highlight of being here so far, and it is not a week I will soon forget.  So many things happened, but just to highlight a few, here are some of the more fun things we did:  rode a horse, ate fresh mangos and jocotes, cut Tom’s hair, climbed a mountain at sunset, played soccer with the neighbor kids, salsa-danced, sang the Beatles, ate mountains of beans, rice, and tortillas, successfully made my own tortillas, walked on dusty roads seeing incredible mountain views, drank iodine-stained water, shared a tiny bed with Meg, woke up next to a cockroach, rode in the back of the mayor’s pickup at night, stargazed, and ate choco-bananos sold by our neighbors.  There were many fun moments, but also a lot of sad ones.  Poverty, both physical and emotional, pervaded the community.  Some people really deal with a lot of sadness in their lives, and that has yet ceased to amaze me.  I heard stories of people remembering details from living in the mountains, sleeping on rocks and dead people during the war, memories of the murders of family and friends, missing family members that made it to the states, witnessing relationships of abuse, and living day-to-day in a state of physical poverty.