I found this quote today that has been sitting with me. Maybe it will sit with you as well and make you think. That is the point, is it not?
"You cannot claim to worship Jesus in the Tabernacle, if you do not pity Jesus in the slums. . . It is folly -- it is madness -- to suppose that you can worship Jesus in the Sacraments and Jesus on the throne of glory, when you are sweating him in the souls and bodies of his children."
- - Bishop Frank Weston at the 1923 Anglo-Catholic Congress
Friday, September 30, 2005
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
A Dead Man
During my third week in ES, I had just finished work and was going home a few minutes early to try to escape the rain. I walked my usual route to the bus station, and discovered a small crowd of people and a police car with officers. There was a man lying on the sidewalk, and police tape all around his body, a crowd of people watching and a police officer nonchalantly taking notes. I had come to realize that this man had died, and the investigation into his death had just begun. I had probably passed by this man earlier in the day, and now a few hours later, he was dead. There was no blood and no sign of a struggle (a least to my eyes). I had draw the possible conclusion that this man could have been one of the drunk men I had passed earlier in the afternoon. I thought it might have been possible that he had a heart attack, but the reality is, I didn’t know.
As plain as day, he was there, flat on his back, and very much not alive. No one seemed to pay too much attention besides the initial moment of their discovery, and I had come to realize that this was just another regular thing that happened quite often here. With a culture that has a memory of war, and the assassinations of their past, why would a random dead man mean more now? As people, and even children have become accustomed to seeing death, why would this scene be more shocking? The fact is, this is a normal part of life, and at least for the next year and a half, it may become part of my reality as well.
As plain as day, he was there, flat on his back, and very much not alive. No one seemed to pay too much attention besides the initial moment of their discovery, and I had come to realize that this was just another regular thing that happened quite often here. With a culture that has a memory of war, and the assassinations of their past, why would a random dead man mean more now? As people, and even children have become accustomed to seeing death, why would this scene be more shocking? The fact is, this is a normal part of life, and at least for the next year and a half, it may become part of my reality as well.
Monday, September 19, 2005
Liberation Theology and Me
Disclaimer: As I am not one to wear ALL my thoughts on my sleeve, there are times that I chose to do so for clarity and maybe posterity. The following thoughts are not set in stone, but rather an account of what has been a long and continuous process of internal conversation and debate. These thoughts are not a final project, and therefore should be viewed in the context of history. Just for the record...I still like Jesus, and my faith hasn’t been lost...so don’t worry!
Lately I’ve been doing a lot of serious rethinking about what I really think about liberation theology and how that applies to using force in oppressive situations. I’ve always adhered to the nonviolent way of life and felt that this lifestyle was well complimented with my belief in liberation theology. Yet lately I’ve been having my doubts...or at least questions.
I finished reading this book called Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder. It was a New York Times bestseller, and has created a general stir in many intellectual circles, and I guess it has created a stir within me as well.
MBM tells the story of development in the life of Dr. Paul Farmer, as he is on a quest to help the most vulnerable of the world. As Motorcycle Diaries chronicles the awakening of the man we know as Che Guevara, MBM documents what a life can look like with such powerful awakenings of inequality and injustice.
The fact that I read this book when I first moved to El Salvador, is probably not just divine providence, but a little bit humorous as well. Nevertheless, the experience of reading this book while learning about the realities of El Salvador has been quite an experience to say the least.
Now, to the meat of my thoughts...I will begin with a quote from Farmer.
Farmer explains that he distrusts all ideologies, including his own, at least a little, because, “...all ologies fail us at some point. At some point, I suspect, not very far from where the Haitian poor live out their dangerous lives.” He goes on to say that, “If one pushes this ology to its logical conclusion, then God is to found in the struggle against injustice. But if the odds are so preposterously stacked against the poor - machetes versus Uzis, donkeys versus tanks, stones versus missiles, or even typhoid versus cancer - then is it responsible, is it wise, to push the poor to claim what is theirs by right? What happens when the destitute in Guatemala, El Salvador, Haiti, wherever, are moved by a rereading of the Gospels to stand up for what is theirs, to reclaim what was theirs and was taken away, to ask only that they enjoy decent poverty rather than the misery we see here every day in Haiti? We know the answer to that question, because we are digging up their bodies in Guatemala.”
For the record, let it be known that I too distrust ideologies at least a little bit, for the simple reason that the human condition, as complicated as it is, is never the same for any one person. There’s a larger philosophical debate within this statement, but it really doesn’t interest me at the moment, and so I will skip it for now.
In a simplistic form, liberation theology is a rereading of the Gospels in hopes that the wealthy may redistribute their wealth, and the poor may stand up for a future of equality. Before liberation theology, the poor were told to wait and withstand the trials here in this life, and their true reward would be coming in the form of salvation. This is a widely held Protestant belief today, and as s good Catholic girl with a completely different world view, I just can’t accept this reality / theology. If you really want to know what I think about this, continue on to the next paragraph for a slight tangent...otherwise skip the next paragraph and continue on.
Ok, so basically I think this Protestant belief (and lots of Catholics believe this as well) is a complete copout so that any blame can be removed. First of all, if you’re Protestant, chances are you think all of humanity is basically flawed and therefore, conversion to Christianity is the only way to go in terms of life long salvation, when you eventually leave this earth in death. With this kind of thought structure, any bad luck while on earth, is your lot in life. You’re expected to just grin and bear it, and your true reward will come in Heaven. For the poor of the world, this basically translates to “deal with it” and make sure you evangelize along the way. If you’re rich, well then, God has blessed you, and tithing 10% of your income is what God requires of you to be a good hospitable steward of the Lords creation. I have a huge problem with this view for more reasons than I can count, but basically, it gives rich Christians an excuse to feel comfortable in their wealth, while their “brothers and sisters”suffer and die because of an unequal distribution of goods and services. Heck, with this idea, evangelization for the purpose of salvation, gives people the illusion that they are actually doing something in life...helping out the situation if you will, and maybe storing up some brownie points with the Big Guy!
Now with liberation theology, the poor are encouraged by the revolutionary spirit of Jesus, to rise up with love in their heart, and reclaim their dignity....and really, reclaim their share of goods and services. With a bit of Marxist analysis, liberation theology calls for a redistribution of wealth and a general change within the class structures of the world.
This all sounds fine and dandy, however, it’s really hard to live out, and the consequences of this way of life are quite life threatening to many. This is exactly what brings me to my next little internal debate.
Here in El Salvador, 80% of my conversations are about the civil war of the 1980's that was funded by the US government. Everyday, I talk with people from the FMLN (former insurgents / guerillas) during the war....and just for the record, the FMLN is made up of the poor and intellectuals of the country that spoke out, and were assassinated everyday by US bullets funded by US tax dollars. Our current conversations focus on what life was like in El Salvador in the 1980's. We talk about the Peace Accords, and what a load of crap they are. We talk about the poor and how life is getting more difficult with imperialistic treaties like CAFTA. Mostly I ask a lot of questions, and occasionally, I offer my own thoughts, but I am finding that to be more difficult than I had bargained for.
I always thought, that if you really claimed to love humanity, how could you justify killing another person. Of course I can understand why a person would act in a violent way when protecting family, but I could never reconcile that action in my own life. Thus, with this questioning, living a nonviolent life has been met with minimal questions, especially in the US. I’ve found that I can agree with people like Che, right up until his revolution, and then the violence becomes too extreme, and a non-negotiable for me. Here in El Salvador, I’m not quite so sure I could come up with a positive alternative to the war that was fought here (and is still going on in other ways today...stay tuned to future blogs). When the government starts killing people? Sit around and watch as everyone you know is assassinated? It’s not like you can call on the international community...they are just as oppressive as the government of El Salvador. Heck, it was the US that helped created the whole mess here.
So people chose to take up arms, which I can understand...I just don’t know how that sits in my own heart. I asked my Spanish teacher about what she thought about nonviolence and if it would have worked here, and she said it wouldn’t. Besides the fact that the government was killing priests and nuns and getting away with it, they were also assassinating common people in broad daylight...all in the name of removing “Communism” from El Salvador.
So here’s the conflict in a nutshell. Nonviolence is a great concept to live by and has some really useful ideals for life. I think Jesus was a man of nonviolence and therefore, we should all strive to be like that. However, if you also adhere to Liberation Theology, my question is, how exactly do the poor stand up? Either way, they are stuck in a catch 22! You can either speak out and be shot...or you can shut up and be shot...you can rise up with arms (and maybe get away with your life). So exactly how is Liberation Theology a way to be like Jesus, if he was a man of nonviolence. Here lies the dilemma!
I have a feeling that at some point in my life I will reconcile this question somewhere in my heart. I have a feeling that this restlessness of questioning will eventually settle. It’s not like I’m in complete upheaval, just at a state of in-between! So stay tuned and maybe there will be more thoughts to come on this subject.
Lately I’ve been doing a lot of serious rethinking about what I really think about liberation theology and how that applies to using force in oppressive situations. I’ve always adhered to the nonviolent way of life and felt that this lifestyle was well complimented with my belief in liberation theology. Yet lately I’ve been having my doubts...or at least questions.
I finished reading this book called Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder. It was a New York Times bestseller, and has created a general stir in many intellectual circles, and I guess it has created a stir within me as well.
MBM tells the story of development in the life of Dr. Paul Farmer, as he is on a quest to help the most vulnerable of the world. As Motorcycle Diaries chronicles the awakening of the man we know as Che Guevara, MBM documents what a life can look like with such powerful awakenings of inequality and injustice.
The fact that I read this book when I first moved to El Salvador, is probably not just divine providence, but a little bit humorous as well. Nevertheless, the experience of reading this book while learning about the realities of El Salvador has been quite an experience to say the least.
Now, to the meat of my thoughts...I will begin with a quote from Farmer.
Farmer explains that he distrusts all ideologies, including his own, at least a little, because, “...all ologies fail us at some point. At some point, I suspect, not very far from where the Haitian poor live out their dangerous lives.” He goes on to say that, “If one pushes this ology to its logical conclusion, then God is to found in the struggle against injustice. But if the odds are so preposterously stacked against the poor - machetes versus Uzis, donkeys versus tanks, stones versus missiles, or even typhoid versus cancer - then is it responsible, is it wise, to push the poor to claim what is theirs by right? What happens when the destitute in Guatemala, El Salvador, Haiti, wherever, are moved by a rereading of the Gospels to stand up for what is theirs, to reclaim what was theirs and was taken away, to ask only that they enjoy decent poverty rather than the misery we see here every day in Haiti? We know the answer to that question, because we are digging up their bodies in Guatemala.”
For the record, let it be known that I too distrust ideologies at least a little bit, for the simple reason that the human condition, as complicated as it is, is never the same for any one person. There’s a larger philosophical debate within this statement, but it really doesn’t interest me at the moment, and so I will skip it for now.
In a simplistic form, liberation theology is a rereading of the Gospels in hopes that the wealthy may redistribute their wealth, and the poor may stand up for a future of equality. Before liberation theology, the poor were told to wait and withstand the trials here in this life, and their true reward would be coming in the form of salvation. This is a widely held Protestant belief today, and as s good Catholic girl with a completely different world view, I just can’t accept this reality / theology. If you really want to know what I think about this, continue on to the next paragraph for a slight tangent...otherwise skip the next paragraph and continue on.
Ok, so basically I think this Protestant belief (and lots of Catholics believe this as well) is a complete copout so that any blame can be removed. First of all, if you’re Protestant, chances are you think all of humanity is basically flawed and therefore, conversion to Christianity is the only way to go in terms of life long salvation, when you eventually leave this earth in death. With this kind of thought structure, any bad luck while on earth, is your lot in life. You’re expected to just grin and bear it, and your true reward will come in Heaven. For the poor of the world, this basically translates to “deal with it” and make sure you evangelize along the way. If you’re rich, well then, God has blessed you, and tithing 10% of your income is what God requires of you to be a good hospitable steward of the Lords creation. I have a huge problem with this view for more reasons than I can count, but basically, it gives rich Christians an excuse to feel comfortable in their wealth, while their “brothers and sisters”suffer and die because of an unequal distribution of goods and services. Heck, with this idea, evangelization for the purpose of salvation, gives people the illusion that they are actually doing something in life...helping out the situation if you will, and maybe storing up some brownie points with the Big Guy!
Now with liberation theology, the poor are encouraged by the revolutionary spirit of Jesus, to rise up with love in their heart, and reclaim their dignity....and really, reclaim their share of goods and services. With a bit of Marxist analysis, liberation theology calls for a redistribution of wealth and a general change within the class structures of the world.
This all sounds fine and dandy, however, it’s really hard to live out, and the consequences of this way of life are quite life threatening to many. This is exactly what brings me to my next little internal debate.
Here in El Salvador, 80% of my conversations are about the civil war of the 1980's that was funded by the US government. Everyday, I talk with people from the FMLN (former insurgents / guerillas) during the war....and just for the record, the FMLN is made up of the poor and intellectuals of the country that spoke out, and were assassinated everyday by US bullets funded by US tax dollars. Our current conversations focus on what life was like in El Salvador in the 1980's. We talk about the Peace Accords, and what a load of crap they are. We talk about the poor and how life is getting more difficult with imperialistic treaties like CAFTA. Mostly I ask a lot of questions, and occasionally, I offer my own thoughts, but I am finding that to be more difficult than I had bargained for.
I always thought, that if you really claimed to love humanity, how could you justify killing another person. Of course I can understand why a person would act in a violent way when protecting family, but I could never reconcile that action in my own life. Thus, with this questioning, living a nonviolent life has been met with minimal questions, especially in the US. I’ve found that I can agree with people like Che, right up until his revolution, and then the violence becomes too extreme, and a non-negotiable for me. Here in El Salvador, I’m not quite so sure I could come up with a positive alternative to the war that was fought here (and is still going on in other ways today...stay tuned to future blogs). When the government starts killing people? Sit around and watch as everyone you know is assassinated? It’s not like you can call on the international community...they are just as oppressive as the government of El Salvador. Heck, it was the US that helped created the whole mess here.
So people chose to take up arms, which I can understand...I just don’t know how that sits in my own heart. I asked my Spanish teacher about what she thought about nonviolence and if it would have worked here, and she said it wouldn’t. Besides the fact that the government was killing priests and nuns and getting away with it, they were also assassinating common people in broad daylight...all in the name of removing “Communism” from El Salvador.
So here’s the conflict in a nutshell. Nonviolence is a great concept to live by and has some really useful ideals for life. I think Jesus was a man of nonviolence and therefore, we should all strive to be like that. However, if you also adhere to Liberation Theology, my question is, how exactly do the poor stand up? Either way, they are stuck in a catch 22! You can either speak out and be shot...or you can shut up and be shot...you can rise up with arms (and maybe get away with your life). So exactly how is Liberation Theology a way to be like Jesus, if he was a man of nonviolence. Here lies the dilemma!
I have a feeling that at some point in my life I will reconcile this question somewhere in my heart. I have a feeling that this restlessness of questioning will eventually settle. It’s not like I’m in complete upheaval, just at a state of in-between! So stay tuned and maybe there will be more thoughts to come on this subject.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
My Barrio
Ten minutes on the South West Side
muchachos walking out of the house
a lot of drugs sold from there...
The buracho sauntering in a zig zag
down the walk way
a wool hat on his head in the middle of May.
Church bells ring a tune of Ave Mara
a woman speaks a little louder over the phone -
an important cal from Jalisco.
A Hot Rod races by
Spanish Rap blaring with a forceful base
a quick toot of the horn
to acknowledge the woman passing by...
(I’m not part of her business, so eye contact is avoided).
A young couple talk for a bit
a welcomed distraction
from the car engine that needs fixin
A yellow traffic light turns to read
two cars beat the chase
not worth the time of the policia
walking into the greasy spoon.
I can hear the radio off in the distance
Mariachis with their love ballads
I can just make out the strums of the guitars
as the neighbors pit bulls bark at a kid on a bike.
The avion flies overhead
and I wonder where it’s going
Most of my neighbors never came to
Mexican town by a plane
they walked from the southern border
some have the same zapatos
I could never wear them.
As I step inside
Rafael yells across the street
"Como estas?"
I nod and yell "Muy Bien!"
As I open the door to my casa...
I know I am home.
muchachos walking out of the house
a lot of drugs sold from there...
The buracho sauntering in a zig zag
down the walk way
a wool hat on his head in the middle of May.
Church bells ring a tune of Ave Mara
a woman speaks a little louder over the phone -
an important cal from Jalisco.
A Hot Rod races by
Spanish Rap blaring with a forceful base
a quick toot of the horn
to acknowledge the woman passing by...
(I’m not part of her business, so eye contact is avoided).
A young couple talk for a bit
a welcomed distraction
from the car engine that needs fixin
A yellow traffic light turns to read
two cars beat the chase
not worth the time of the policia
walking into the greasy spoon.
I can hear the radio off in the distance
Mariachis with their love ballads
I can just make out the strums of the guitars
as the neighbors pit bulls bark at a kid on a bike.
The avion flies overhead
and I wonder where it’s going
Most of my neighbors never came to
Mexican town by a plane
they walked from the southern border
some have the same zapatos
I could never wear them.
As I step inside
Rafael yells across the street
"Como estas?"
I nod and yell "Muy Bien!"
As I open the door to my casa...
I know I am home.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Protestors
This past weekend I was at a conference with some students in Buffalo, NY (home of Buffalo Wings and Canisius College). The topic of the second annual national gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender conference for Jesuit colleges and universities was "Identity, Faith and Advocacy". The main purpose of the conference was to let students and leaders "understand, integrate and promote identity, faith and advocacy into our lives and the lives of those around us." This sounds like a pretty simple and non-threatening conference but apparently, there were some who were quite disturbed. They were disturbed enough to hold signs on the side of the road. They were disturbed enough to hand out pieces of paper with their message. They were disturbed enough to yell and scream at students as they walked by.
Now these individuals have their right to protest...I will not argue with that. However, I am offended by the fact that it is all in the name of "Jesus". Give me a break!!!
Besides the fact that the arguments they used against homosexuality were quite see-through and lacking in proper theological foundations, the manner at which they went about all of this was quite contradictory to the example of Jesus. Of course it’s frustrating to hear such hollow arguments constructed out of ignorance and fear. But it’s a lot harder to walk past a yelling protestor, who probably hates me, and yet find just a bit of love within me for them. After all, I am called to love those who persecute me.
The reality is, I’m pretty use to this line of thinking. I’ve been struggling with it since day one. I’ve tried to put my life out there as an example. I’ve tried my best to be in open dialogue with those who "Love me, but hate my sin." I’ve tried to maintain relationships that were challenging in hopes that we would grow together. I have tried to live my life with dignity and love while reconciling the long hard journey. And the honest truth is...it is all very hard.
Yet even with such exposure to pain and struggle of this kind, it really doesn’t get any easier. Sure, I learn how to cope, I learn how to love a little more. I even learn how to put on a smile and say good morning to the protester screaming in my face. But I can never shut off the jolt of my heart when it begins to realize the pain of it all. I can’t shut my heart off when I remember all the painful conversations of my past (and the ending of some of those relationships). And I can’t shut off my heart when it tells me I have to keep working for change.
The reality is, I know what I need to do. I know that I need to be a voice. I need to be a voice in my community and especially my church, because I don’t want people to think that Jesus is like the protestors. I need to be a voice because there are millions of people around the world who lack certain human rights. I need to be a voice because I might make it easier for one person who is coming out of the closet and into the wardrobe (because coming out is an everyday process). Yet even this reality doesn’t make things any easier, but really listening to your heart is really quite compelling.
I know that I will encounter many more protesters in my lifetime. I know that I will have many more difficult conversations. I know that I will lose more friends because of who I am. I know I will never give up struggling for the greater good, because THAT IS WHO I AM!
Now these individuals have their right to protest...I will not argue with that. However, I am offended by the fact that it is all in the name of "Jesus". Give me a break!!!
Besides the fact that the arguments they used against homosexuality were quite see-through and lacking in proper theological foundations, the manner at which they went about all of this was quite contradictory to the example of Jesus. Of course it’s frustrating to hear such hollow arguments constructed out of ignorance and fear. But it’s a lot harder to walk past a yelling protestor, who probably hates me, and yet find just a bit of love within me for them. After all, I am called to love those who persecute me.
The reality is, I’m pretty use to this line of thinking. I’ve been struggling with it since day one. I’ve tried to put my life out there as an example. I’ve tried my best to be in open dialogue with those who "Love me, but hate my sin." I’ve tried to maintain relationships that were challenging in hopes that we would grow together. I have tried to live my life with dignity and love while reconciling the long hard journey. And the honest truth is...it is all very hard.
Yet even with such exposure to pain and struggle of this kind, it really doesn’t get any easier. Sure, I learn how to cope, I learn how to love a little more. I even learn how to put on a smile and say good morning to the protester screaming in my face. But I can never shut off the jolt of my heart when it begins to realize the pain of it all. I can’t shut my heart off when I remember all the painful conversations of my past (and the ending of some of those relationships). And I can’t shut off my heart when it tells me I have to keep working for change.
The reality is, I know what I need to do. I know that I need to be a voice. I need to be a voice in my community and especially my church, because I don’t want people to think that Jesus is like the protestors. I need to be a voice because there are millions of people around the world who lack certain human rights. I need to be a voice because I might make it easier for one person who is coming out of the closet and into the wardrobe (because coming out is an everyday process). Yet even this reality doesn’t make things any easier, but really listening to your heart is really quite compelling.
I know that I will encounter many more protesters in my lifetime. I know that I will have many more difficult conversations. I know that I will lose more friends because of who I am. I know I will never give up struggling for the greater good, because THAT IS WHO I AM!
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Oh Ratz!
I am 25 years old and I have been Catholic my whole life. My faith has been challenged time and again, and I have always come back to the same loving God I have always known. I grew up in a family that taught me to be a good Catholic, that is, someone who loves and accepts everyone. After all, I was told that Catholic meant "universal", and as the universal church, we are called to be welcoming to all. When it comes down to the reality of the matter, I don’t know how to be anything but "catholic". I don’t know how to be a lover of Christ and an oppressor of my neighbor. It’s just not in me. That is why today has been a struggle for me.
I have only known one pope throughout my lifetime. Like many, I had my problems with him and parts of his theology, but I always knew things could be worse. Let’s just say that I knew my church history! Nevertheless, I still managed to find faith in God, and I believe that is what is important.
As a member of the church who is often oppressed, it's even harder to accept this new pope into my life. It's hard to see the Spirit at work in all of this, when clearly, the church is not truly represented today. It is hard to be a believer when thinking about the future of this church that I call home.
Yet the reality is, I am never going to be just another face in the pew. I am not going to sit and accept more oppression. I am not going to give certain people power over me by leaving the church. I am not going to be silent.
I am going to believe in God with my whole heart, and love His people well. I am going to continue to fight injustice within society and the church. I am going to make myself known. I am going to stay in the church to make sure that there is still a voice of the faithful.
I certainly don't know how long this guy is going to last, but I know that I will last longer. I know that this time is like the temptation of Christ, but I will not faulter. I am frustrated that my brothers and sisters are oppressed daily in this world by the church and their inability to address the needs of her people. But I am also encouraged by the faith of the people and the great love that grows in the hearts of others around the world.
Faith is a journey, and I will accept this path with all that it has to offer and teach me. May the Lord grant us all a sense of love and comfort in these confusing times.
I read today this passage by St. Francis de Sales, I think it's important for these days.
Do not look forward to what my happen tomorrow; the same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and ever day. Either He will shield you from suffering, or He will give you unfailing strenth to bear it. Be at peace, then, put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations, and say continually: "The Lord is my strenth and my shield; my heart has trusted in Him and I am helped. He is not only with me but in me and I am in Him."
I have only known one pope throughout my lifetime. Like many, I had my problems with him and parts of his theology, but I always knew things could be worse. Let’s just say that I knew my church history! Nevertheless, I still managed to find faith in God, and I believe that is what is important.
As a member of the church who is often oppressed, it's even harder to accept this new pope into my life. It's hard to see the Spirit at work in all of this, when clearly, the church is not truly represented today. It is hard to be a believer when thinking about the future of this church that I call home.
Yet the reality is, I am never going to be just another face in the pew. I am not going to sit and accept more oppression. I am not going to give certain people power over me by leaving the church. I am not going to be silent.
I am going to believe in God with my whole heart, and love His people well. I am going to continue to fight injustice within society and the church. I am going to make myself known. I am going to stay in the church to make sure that there is still a voice of the faithful.
I certainly don't know how long this guy is going to last, but I know that I will last longer. I know that this time is like the temptation of Christ, but I will not faulter. I am frustrated that my brothers and sisters are oppressed daily in this world by the church and their inability to address the needs of her people. But I am also encouraged by the faith of the people and the great love that grows in the hearts of others around the world.
Faith is a journey, and I will accept this path with all that it has to offer and teach me. May the Lord grant us all a sense of love and comfort in these confusing times.
I read today this passage by St. Francis de Sales, I think it's important for these days.
Do not look forward to what my happen tomorrow; the same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and ever day. Either He will shield you from suffering, or He will give you unfailing strenth to bear it. Be at peace, then, put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations, and say continually: "The Lord is my strenth and my shield; my heart has trusted in Him and I am helped. He is not only with me but in me and I am in Him."
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
As I reflect...
I remember this moment not too long ago. A new chapter of my life had begun, as a great loss lingered in my heart. Needing a deep breath and a sense of renewal, I packed my bag and left the home I knew, to search for something else. I didn’t know anyone and I wasn’t really looking for anything but maybe a glimmer of hope.
I use to walk the streets during the day and night. I would watch people and wonder if that was what life was like. I would look into the eyes of people and wonder if I had a connection with them. I would smile and wonder if people thought it was real.
I spent most of the day to myself. A solitary soul looking for meaning, I grieved in silence, just so it would all sink in. The most original emotions of my life were from that space in time. I remember submitting myself to something greater, whatever was in me at the time. Maybe it was God, or the most raw form of reality I would ever live. It was as if I was ready for anything. In my broken state I became the one I was meant to be. In all my weakness, I had formed an inner core that seemed unbreakable.
In a constant state of vulnerability, I found myself searching for challenges. It was if I couldn’t even fight the urge to protect myself. It was just so very natural to desire more, even in all my sadness. I pursued every moment with more fervor than the last, and with relative ease, understanding came to me like the ocean waves of my childhood. I felt incomplete despite the fact that it was the most well formed I had ever been.
I remembered the previous months of despair and pain as if I was having an out of body experience. I revisited every moment and reviewed all there was to know, soaking in all the richness that was being offered. If I were to be a wise one ever in my life, it would have been then. I could have been my own guru.
With over a month of intensity, I moved on to a new place and a new experience. I opened myself to true interactions with others. I shared all that was in me, even those things that have never surfaced from my heart before. I never distrusted my own honesty or its purpose, even in the face of strangers. I couldn’t even stop myself from being transparent.
Every wave of passion that engulfed me was real and important. I allowed connections with other souls to translate into meaning for me. I wasn’t looking for any of it, but I welcomed the moments, as if they might be my last. I never held back.
As a new being, I had become a greater version of myself. I was a better daughter, a better friend, a better lover and a better care-giver. Unknowingly self actualized for this slice of time, I left that enchanting place of renewal, for my home of remembered pain. I left so much behind, and the real struggle was ahead of me, but a different focus helped me visualize a future that might look like a snapshot of my reality.
Today, I remember that summer with a sense of wanting. A part of me never wants to go back to those moments of pain. Yet another part of me wishes to duplicate the moments that I realized the joys of life within interactions. All the trouble in my life kept me inside. I learned a way of inner simplicity, and I also learned the necessity of human contact. For it was in my later interactions, that I found true meaning with others.
I recently found a momento that brought back all these memories. It's important to keep things of meaning close to your heart...they help you remember the better times when you have doubt. Sometimes those are the moments of purity.
I use to walk the streets during the day and night. I would watch people and wonder if that was what life was like. I would look into the eyes of people and wonder if I had a connection with them. I would smile and wonder if people thought it was real.
I spent most of the day to myself. A solitary soul looking for meaning, I grieved in silence, just so it would all sink in. The most original emotions of my life were from that space in time. I remember submitting myself to something greater, whatever was in me at the time. Maybe it was God, or the most raw form of reality I would ever live. It was as if I was ready for anything. In my broken state I became the one I was meant to be. In all my weakness, I had formed an inner core that seemed unbreakable.
In a constant state of vulnerability, I found myself searching for challenges. It was if I couldn’t even fight the urge to protect myself. It was just so very natural to desire more, even in all my sadness. I pursued every moment with more fervor than the last, and with relative ease, understanding came to me like the ocean waves of my childhood. I felt incomplete despite the fact that it was the most well formed I had ever been.
I remembered the previous months of despair and pain as if I was having an out of body experience. I revisited every moment and reviewed all there was to know, soaking in all the richness that was being offered. If I were to be a wise one ever in my life, it would have been then. I could have been my own guru.
With over a month of intensity, I moved on to a new place and a new experience. I opened myself to true interactions with others. I shared all that was in me, even those things that have never surfaced from my heart before. I never distrusted my own honesty or its purpose, even in the face of strangers. I couldn’t even stop myself from being transparent.
Every wave of passion that engulfed me was real and important. I allowed connections with other souls to translate into meaning for me. I wasn’t looking for any of it, but I welcomed the moments, as if they might be my last. I never held back.
As a new being, I had become a greater version of myself. I was a better daughter, a better friend, a better lover and a better care-giver. Unknowingly self actualized for this slice of time, I left that enchanting place of renewal, for my home of remembered pain. I left so much behind, and the real struggle was ahead of me, but a different focus helped me visualize a future that might look like a snapshot of my reality.
Today, I remember that summer with a sense of wanting. A part of me never wants to go back to those moments of pain. Yet another part of me wishes to duplicate the moments that I realized the joys of life within interactions. All the trouble in my life kept me inside. I learned a way of inner simplicity, and I also learned the necessity of human contact. For it was in my later interactions, that I found true meaning with others.
I recently found a momento that brought back all these memories. It's important to keep things of meaning close to your heart...they help you remember the better times when you have doubt. Sometimes those are the moments of purity.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
A quote...
I read this in a book called Radical Compassion by Gary Smith S.J.
I think this is probably true for all of us at one time or another....find people to fill the void.
"Things give meaning to the lives of people who are deprived of authentic human contact. It is not necissarily a quirk of the poor: the millionaire builds and otentatious house; the CEO wears a Rolex; the politician has a few people in his pocket; the dictator has his disposable army; the preacher surrounds herself with unread theology books. Collecting things fills gaps in our hearts and gives expression to an internalized deprivation from the past."
I think this is probably true for all of us at one time or another....find people to fill the void.
"Things give meaning to the lives of people who are deprived of authentic human contact. It is not necissarily a quirk of the poor: the millionaire builds and otentatious house; the CEO wears a Rolex; the politician has a few people in his pocket; the dictator has his disposable army; the preacher surrounds herself with unread theology books. Collecting things fills gaps in our hearts and gives expression to an internalized deprivation from the past."
Act as if...
In AA, they have this saying..."Act as if..." I was speaking with some people the other day and this statement was brought up. One woman was talking about the importance of this statement in her life in regards to her lesbian daughter. This particular woman has had a hard time accepting her daughter, and has gone through a great bit of struggle. When she realized that her relationship with her daughter was declining, she felt that something needed to be done. When she saw the pain her daughter was in, she knew that something needed to change. In a moment of advise, a friend of hers (who just happends to be gay) told her to "Act as if..."
He said, "Act as if you undertand and accept your daughter." The fact is, it's the wondering and the denial that hurts relationships. This mother may have loved her daughter, but the constant questioning did not enforce that idea. And really, many parents have a hard time at first, but come to understanding and acceptance with time. Once they see that their child can not change who they are, they come to see that no one is at fault in matters of sexuality. They come to find that their son or daughter has already accepted who they are (hopefully), and they are just waiting for their parents to catch up.
I've been blessed with understanding and accepting parents, who see my life and who I love as a gift from God. But the stories of hurt and pain are all too familiar for me. And really, there would be a lot less of that going around if people just acted as if they were ok.
He said, "Act as if you undertand and accept your daughter." The fact is, it's the wondering and the denial that hurts relationships. This mother may have loved her daughter, but the constant questioning did not enforce that idea. And really, many parents have a hard time at first, but come to understanding and acceptance with time. Once they see that their child can not change who they are, they come to see that no one is at fault in matters of sexuality. They come to find that their son or daughter has already accepted who they are (hopefully), and they are just waiting for their parents to catch up.
I've been blessed with understanding and accepting parents, who see my life and who I love as a gift from God. But the stories of hurt and pain are all too familiar for me. And really, there would be a lot less of that going around if people just acted as if they were ok.
Friday, January 07, 2005
Leaving Home...
This idea of home is sort of a funny concept to me. Growing up with parents who divorced, I led two separate lives at each of their homes. I had my own room, and a different set of "things" to fill my space. Each house had it's own rules and code of conduct. Yet each house was their house, and never mine.
I went on to college and lived in a dorm room my first year, and I shared that with one other person. The remainder of college was spent in different houses that I shared with friends, and I guess, that was the first time I had a "house" of my own (at least September to May).
I have sense moved on to different places, including some time spent in Belize. I lived with a family there, and in some ways I consider Belize home, because there are people there that I have a relationship with.
I briefly moved back into my fathers home for a few months, and even though I call CT and RI home, I haven't spent a lot of time there recently.
You see, I realize that people my age are asking these same questions, and trying to find a place of their own. Yet somehow I know that my current situation and life choices forces me to take a different approach to the whole "where do I belong" question.
Recently I spent some time in the airport reflecting on this exact question. I had just said goodbye to my dad for the umteenth time, and that feeling of loss sort of sunk in. I asked myself, "Is saying goodbye what I really want to be doing for the rest of my life?"
Now maybe this is a pessimistic way of looking at things, but because of my life choices, I've exchanged hugs and kisses and warm wishes with a whole lot of people in the last five years. I've said goodbye to my family over and over again, my friends, lovers, mentors and random people I've built relationships to. Imagine having to explain to a four year old kid that you have to go back home to US. Of course the only think this kid knows of your home, is that you live down to street and play with him everyday. I've had this goodbye entirely too many times.
So the thing is, do I really want to have a life that is in a constant state of "goodbye"? Do I always want to have a train of people who miss me and who I miss as well? Do I want to keep putting relationships on hold or depend on the internet for my only communication to the home I left behind.
Because in reality, every place I go, ends up becoming a part of me. Every place has people that I love. And every place is home, at least for a little while.
I know that I will probably "settle down" at some point in time, but no matter where I am, there will always be people missing. But then again, I am very blessed to have so many amazing people in my life from all over the world...and so there is no complaint in that. Just questions....
I went on to college and lived in a dorm room my first year, and I shared that with one other person. The remainder of college was spent in different houses that I shared with friends, and I guess, that was the first time I had a "house" of my own (at least September to May).
I have sense moved on to different places, including some time spent in Belize. I lived with a family there, and in some ways I consider Belize home, because there are people there that I have a relationship with.
I briefly moved back into my fathers home for a few months, and even though I call CT and RI home, I haven't spent a lot of time there recently.
You see, I realize that people my age are asking these same questions, and trying to find a place of their own. Yet somehow I know that my current situation and life choices forces me to take a different approach to the whole "where do I belong" question.
Recently I spent some time in the airport reflecting on this exact question. I had just said goodbye to my dad for the umteenth time, and that feeling of loss sort of sunk in. I asked myself, "Is saying goodbye what I really want to be doing for the rest of my life?"
Now maybe this is a pessimistic way of looking at things, but because of my life choices, I've exchanged hugs and kisses and warm wishes with a whole lot of people in the last five years. I've said goodbye to my family over and over again, my friends, lovers, mentors and random people I've built relationships to. Imagine having to explain to a four year old kid that you have to go back home to US. Of course the only think this kid knows of your home, is that you live down to street and play with him everyday. I've had this goodbye entirely too many times.
So the thing is, do I really want to have a life that is in a constant state of "goodbye"? Do I always want to have a train of people who miss me and who I miss as well? Do I want to keep putting relationships on hold or depend on the internet for my only communication to the home I left behind.
Because in reality, every place I go, ends up becoming a part of me. Every place has people that I love. And every place is home, at least for a little while.
I know that I will probably "settle down" at some point in time, but no matter where I am, there will always be people missing. But then again, I am very blessed to have so many amazing people in my life from all over the world...and so there is no complaint in that. Just questions....
Saturday, January 01, 2005
"The Legacy of Madness"
On this first morning of the new year, I sad down over a cup of coffee and read this article. For those who know me well, one could easily place me in this short non-fiction piece. I myself, couldn't help but think of the cliche statement, "there are others just like me out there." Of course I knew this already, but every once in a while, this realization sneaks up on me.
Nevertheless, I thought this was an interesting article, that shows a cirtain mirror of the similarity of the early part of my life, and may even offer an explanation of how I am now. If you care to read it, by all means do so!
http://hartfordadvocate.com/gbase/News/content?oid=oid:94852
Happy New Year!
Nevertheless, I thought this was an interesting article, that shows a cirtain mirror of the similarity of the early part of my life, and may even offer an explanation of how I am now. If you care to read it, by all means do so!
http://hartfordadvocate.com/gbase/News/content?oid=oid:94852
Happy New Year!
Friday, December 24, 2004
At a glance...
A lot can happen in one glance. I try to pay attension to the little moments of life, but sometimes they get ahead of me. I'm usually pretty dumb when it comes to the glances associated with attraction. However, I was alert enough to catch a passing smile and a glance from afar. A stranger, but nevertheless, it was a recognizable moment in time.
There are a lot of things I could have been doing today, but instead I chose one specific place to be, and this moment occured. It sounds very trivial, but I find myself asking the question, "what if?" In reality, I could have missed that moment altogether.
I heard some quote once that said something like, "Half of life is just showing up." How true is that! My guess is that the other half of life is your actions.
In this case I smiled back (in that shy sort of way) and I continued on. There are a lot of things I could have done instead, but anyone who knows me well, would know that the most I would ever do is maybe say "hello" along with that cute smile of mine. How hopeless I am! :)
Tonight I listen to the Garden State soundtrack, and I laugh at myself!
There are a lot of things I could have been doing today, but instead I chose one specific place to be, and this moment occured. It sounds very trivial, but I find myself asking the question, "what if?" In reality, I could have missed that moment altogether.
I heard some quote once that said something like, "Half of life is just showing up." How true is that! My guess is that the other half of life is your actions.
In this case I smiled back (in that shy sort of way) and I continued on. There are a lot of things I could have done instead, but anyone who knows me well, would know that the most I would ever do is maybe say "hello" along with that cute smile of mine. How hopeless I am! :)
Tonight I listen to the Garden State soundtrack, and I laugh at myself!
Thursday, December 02, 2004
How Surreal!
I was just reading an article that Kathy Kelly wrote for www.commondreams.org and I am reminded of my first exposure to here about two months ago. I didn’t even know who she was. “Some activist lady that is receiving an award,” they told me. I met her at a peace and social justice church. I shook her hand and we talked about my experience being a Jesuit Volunteer. She seemed shy, this woman in black tights and an outfit from the 1980’s to match. She gave the sermon that Sunday about her arrest and detainment at a prison. She spoke about the horrible realities of prison and she talked about the war in Iraq. Apparently she is an activist, because now I hear about her all the time. She was a speaker at the SOA rally, and one morning while sitting in my hotel in Georgia, sipping coffee, Kathy Kelly comes striding down the stairs. How unreal!
She begins to get breakfast just like everyone else. Sits down and mingles with people. She still has that certain shyness. I remember her, and think, “oh ya, she’s a normal person.” But is she? And then she starts passing out brownies; some special mint brownies that So and So made! How surreal!
They were good brownies too! And now I think of Kathy Kelly, the woman I met, the one who gets arrested for civil disobedience and also passes out brownies the morning before a huge protest. Amazing!
She begins to get breakfast just like everyone else. Sits down and mingles with people. She still has that certain shyness. I remember her, and think, “oh ya, she’s a normal person.” But is she? And then she starts passing out brownies; some special mint brownies that So and So made! How surreal!
They were good brownies too! And now I think of Kathy Kelly, the woman I met, the one who gets arrested for civil disobedience and also passes out brownies the morning before a huge protest. Amazing!
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
My Future
As today comes to a close, I can’t help but wonder, “where does my heart lie?” In this intense day, I have intense thoughts with no particular direction for an immediate future. I reflect on where I’ve been, and ponder where I might end up. To serve another, is one question, but my question is what population. I often think of this, but tonight has posed the question in two different ways.
First I went to Gesu parish to learn about the four church women who were killed in El Salvador. Most of them were nuns, if I remember correctly. Nevertheless, these women were working side by side with the poor and speaking out for their rights. They were stopped at a road block one night, raped and shot point blank. They died on December 2, 1980.
I am affected greatly by what happened to them, due to the fact that I can see myself doing what they did. I can see myself working with the poor and speaking out for human rights. I know this is controversial in the sight of many governments, and I often wonder if my life may be lost in this fight.
I have a deep love for the people I have met, and a strong conviction that my life and heart are being used to make a difference. However, I do not know to what extent. I keep my options open, and try to listen to the callings in my life. I educate myself and go with the wind, hoping that I might be an instrument of peace.
In my travels lately, I have also had the experience of helping gay kids on campus find a safe place, and a group to converse within. It is my belief that such a group is an exercise of faith, and that advocating for equal rights for gay and lesbian people should be accepted. It is a personal issue of my life, and it is also controversial.
Later this evening, after learning about the church women, I decided to preview a documentary that was recommended to me. The film is called “Dangerous Living.” It’s about gay and lesbian people in the developing world, and their struggle with coming out, and being out of the closet. I felt such a connection with the people in the film because I recognized their lives as a symbol of hope within oppression. More importantly, their lives lacked the basic human rights that I want to fight for, and I wonder, “Is this where I am being led?”
What would it be like if I was a human rights activist with a focus on gay rights? What would my life be like then? I know so many gay people from all across the world, and I have heard their struggle, as I have also heard the struggle of the poor. There is no difference between the two. But I know people see a difference.
Even the question of my own life comes into play, and I wonder, “would I have a life?” In either circumstance, could I have a family? I know that I am not meant to be a religious person, and thus, I do not answer to any particular order. I go where I am led, and maybe that means without any support. Is this a healthy thing?
I ask these questions as more questions flood my mind after this evening. I do not have any answers. And like always, I realize that my heart and vision, may be larger than my life. What is a girl to do?
First I went to Gesu parish to learn about the four church women who were killed in El Salvador. Most of them were nuns, if I remember correctly. Nevertheless, these women were working side by side with the poor and speaking out for their rights. They were stopped at a road block one night, raped and shot point blank. They died on December 2, 1980.
I am affected greatly by what happened to them, due to the fact that I can see myself doing what they did. I can see myself working with the poor and speaking out for human rights. I know this is controversial in the sight of many governments, and I often wonder if my life may be lost in this fight.
I have a deep love for the people I have met, and a strong conviction that my life and heart are being used to make a difference. However, I do not know to what extent. I keep my options open, and try to listen to the callings in my life. I educate myself and go with the wind, hoping that I might be an instrument of peace.
In my travels lately, I have also had the experience of helping gay kids on campus find a safe place, and a group to converse within. It is my belief that such a group is an exercise of faith, and that advocating for equal rights for gay and lesbian people should be accepted. It is a personal issue of my life, and it is also controversial.
Later this evening, after learning about the church women, I decided to preview a documentary that was recommended to me. The film is called “Dangerous Living.” It’s about gay and lesbian people in the developing world, and their struggle with coming out, and being out of the closet. I felt such a connection with the people in the film because I recognized their lives as a symbol of hope within oppression. More importantly, their lives lacked the basic human rights that I want to fight for, and I wonder, “Is this where I am being led?”
What would it be like if I was a human rights activist with a focus on gay rights? What would my life be like then? I know so many gay people from all across the world, and I have heard their struggle, as I have also heard the struggle of the poor. There is no difference between the two. But I know people see a difference.
Even the question of my own life comes into play, and I wonder, “would I have a life?” In either circumstance, could I have a family? I know that I am not meant to be a religious person, and thus, I do not answer to any particular order. I go where I am led, and maybe that means without any support. Is this a healthy thing?
I ask these questions as more questions flood my mind after this evening. I do not have any answers. And like always, I realize that my heart and vision, may be larger than my life. What is a girl to do?
Thanksgiving
It’s Turkey Day 2004 and once again, I am without my family. Last year I missed this day because I was in Belize. I didn’t so much mind not participating in Thanksgiving then because I was doing something else that was meaningful in my life. I did miss my family that day, but I knew that I would see them within the next month. And I guess I also didn’t mind being without my family then, because Thanksgiving is not celebrated in Belize, and that means that there are not constant reminders all around me of what I am missing. However, this year is a bit different.
I decided not to accept my fathers offer to buy an expensive plane ticket to bring me home for the holiday. Instead I decided to stay in Detroit and maybe grow from the experience. I thought that by not getting the plane ticket, that I would be more mindful of simplicity in my life. I also thought, that if another community member also decided to stay in Detroit, that I might also be able to keep that person company. Maybe in some small way, if I stay in Detroit as well, we might be able to care for each other. Of course, these lofty ideas change.
At the very least, I am learning about the importance of family (the hard way). Today I think of all the people out there who are spending Thanksgiving alone. I think of the people who have no one to care for them. I know that people like this exist, and maybe I will gain a little more compassion for them in this experience. through empathy.
Now I do have people who care for me, and I never forget that. However, being away from them is a challenge.
Through the years, I’ve learned the importance of thanking the Lord for the blessings in my life. I know that things can change very quickly
I decided not to accept my fathers offer to buy an expensive plane ticket to bring me home for the holiday. Instead I decided to stay in Detroit and maybe grow from the experience. I thought that by not getting the plane ticket, that I would be more mindful of simplicity in my life. I also thought, that if another community member also decided to stay in Detroit, that I might also be able to keep that person company. Maybe in some small way, if I stay in Detroit as well, we might be able to care for each other. Of course, these lofty ideas change.
At the very least, I am learning about the importance of family (the hard way). Today I think of all the people out there who are spending Thanksgiving alone. I think of the people who have no one to care for them. I know that people like this exist, and maybe I will gain a little more compassion for them in this experience. through empathy.
Now I do have people who care for me, and I never forget that. However, being away from them is a challenge.
Through the years, I’ve learned the importance of thanking the Lord for the blessings in my life. I know that things can change very quickly
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Non-truth
I was speaking to a good friend, a short while ago, about relationships. She is in the process of a very painful break up and break off of an engagement, and six year relationship. Her story is not unlike others I’ve heard throughout the years. The details of this specific relationship aren’t particularly relevant, however, one major aspect sticks out to me the most.
Throughout their long history as a couple, one thing remained pretty constant between them. They may have struggled together. They may have doubted. They may have made wrong turns, but when it came to the core of who they were, they remained honest with one another. I know that my friend would not have stayed in the relationship if she doubted the level of honesty. Yet in the end, that is what crumbled first. Which brings me to my moment of pondering and questioning.
How is it, that relationships can begin and continue with complete honesty among individuals, but when it nears an ending, the honesty stops? In these situations, I am always amazed how people rationalize why honesty is not important anymore. In general, I wonder how lying suddenly becomes more important, and what this sudden change is a result of. In all, I just feel deeply sorry for the people involved, knowing that a heart really does break at such moments.
I guess what I’m saying in an indirect way, is that I value honesty over any other version of the truth. And I know that I can only control my own actions and words, and so I strive to be the most honest person I can be. However, there is a part of me that would like to empower (at the very least) people to be honest with me (and others). And maybe I’ve learned the hard way, but the pain involved in a lack of honesty is harder for me, than facing the truth.
Sure, I’ve been played for a fool, and believed all there was to believe in another person. I’ve trusted people completely, and was stunned when I found out I had been “had.” Yet, there has been no point that I would change any of it. And I am not a martyr. I am just a girl who believes in the power of forgiveness.
My friend struggles now with how to pick up and live life a different way. She struggles how to move on and hopefully love again. But the real blow for her is to believe in her heart again, because she never stopped being honest with herself or her partner.
Throughout their long history as a couple, one thing remained pretty constant between them. They may have struggled together. They may have doubted. They may have made wrong turns, but when it came to the core of who they were, they remained honest with one another. I know that my friend would not have stayed in the relationship if she doubted the level of honesty. Yet in the end, that is what crumbled first. Which brings me to my moment of pondering and questioning.
How is it, that relationships can begin and continue with complete honesty among individuals, but when it nears an ending, the honesty stops? In these situations, I am always amazed how people rationalize why honesty is not important anymore. In general, I wonder how lying suddenly becomes more important, and what this sudden change is a result of. In all, I just feel deeply sorry for the people involved, knowing that a heart really does break at such moments.
I guess what I’m saying in an indirect way, is that I value honesty over any other version of the truth. And I know that I can only control my own actions and words, and so I strive to be the most honest person I can be. However, there is a part of me that would like to empower (at the very least) people to be honest with me (and others). And maybe I’ve learned the hard way, but the pain involved in a lack of honesty is harder for me, than facing the truth.
Sure, I’ve been played for a fool, and believed all there was to believe in another person. I’ve trusted people completely, and was stunned when I found out I had been “had.” Yet, there has been no point that I would change any of it. And I am not a martyr. I am just a girl who believes in the power of forgiveness.
My friend struggles now with how to pick up and live life a different way. She struggles how to move on and hopefully love again. But the real blow for her is to believe in her heart again, because she never stopped being honest with herself or her partner.
Jewish?
Recently I’ve come across a bit of information about my heritage that has caused me to think a great deal. A few weeks ago I found out that by way of ancestry, I am a Polish Jew. I always knew I was Polish, but the Jewish part is news to me. Apparently, someone from my family, came from Poland before the German occupation. This person settled in the mid-west and later got married. However, at the time, it wasn’t acceptable to be Jewish, and thus, that part of one’s identity was hidden. It was hidden so much in my family that it was unacceptable to talk about and that is why I never knew until just recently. What is even more interesting, is that this person hid their identity so well, that they built a church and became a founding member, without ever being Catholic. I wonder how their life would have been different if identity wasn’t hidden.
Well for starters, this person escaped death. Probability was not on the side of Polish Jews at the time of the German occupation. In the states, this person could conduct life without the Jewish label, and thus, maneuver around the path of discrimination. Yet, this person also missed the opportunity to express their faith and traditions, the way culture had previously dictated.
In my life, I can’t help wonder what life would have been like if I knew I was a Polish Jew in conjunction with and Irish / English Catholic. I wonder what it would have been like to reconcile the two religious and cultural traditions at an early age. Even today, I can’t help but wonder, “am I a Jew now?”
What does it mean to be Jewish? Can one be Jewish in terms of culture and traditions, and not in terms of faith? How does one reconcile the two? The fact is, I know that many are challenged with these questions, and I am not alone. However, it is my personal priority of sorts to make sense of all this, because in a way, I feel like I owe it to my family member who probably struggled a great deal. I know what it’s like to hide a part of yourself to remain undetected through the paths of a discriminatory society. However, at this stage of my life, I do not feel that hiding any part of my identity (Jewish or otherwise) would be a danger to my life. And so maybe, it is my job to investigate and BE!
Well for starters, this person escaped death. Probability was not on the side of Polish Jews at the time of the German occupation. In the states, this person could conduct life without the Jewish label, and thus, maneuver around the path of discrimination. Yet, this person also missed the opportunity to express their faith and traditions, the way culture had previously dictated.
In my life, I can’t help wonder what life would have been like if I knew I was a Polish Jew in conjunction with and Irish / English Catholic. I wonder what it would have been like to reconcile the two religious and cultural traditions at an early age. Even today, I can’t help but wonder, “am I a Jew now?”
What does it mean to be Jewish? Can one be Jewish in terms of culture and traditions, and not in terms of faith? How does one reconcile the two? The fact is, I know that many are challenged with these questions, and I am not alone. However, it is my personal priority of sorts to make sense of all this, because in a way, I feel like I owe it to my family member who probably struggled a great deal. I know what it’s like to hide a part of yourself to remain undetected through the paths of a discriminatory society. However, at this stage of my life, I do not feel that hiding any part of my identity (Jewish or otherwise) would be a danger to my life. And so maybe, it is my job to investigate and BE!
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Paloma Negra (Lila Downs)
About a year ago I saw the movie Frida and I really loved it. Since then, I've seen the movie about 3 or 4 more times, including the DVD with all the extra stuff. But what I really love about the film, is the music. It was brilliant! This woman named Lila Downs was the primary vocal person in the film and the soundtrack actually won and Oscar I believe, for best original score. Anyway, the other day I picked up a CD of Lila Downs and her newer stuff. There is this song on the CD that is also in the movie Frida...and I really love the song. You can really feel the emotion when she sings and the lyrics are so poetically expressive. I LOVE Latin music...I really do! So I just thouht I would share with you the lyrics...and if you want, you can google the song and listen to it yourself.
Paloma Negra
Ya me canso de llorar y no amaneceYa no sé si maldecirte o por ti rezarTengo miedo de buscarte y de encontrarteDonde me aseguran mis amigos que te vasHay momentos en que quisiera mejor rajarme Y arrancarme ya los clavos de mi penarPero mis ojos se mueren si mirar tus ojosY mi cariño con la aurora te vuelve a esperarY aggaraste por tu cuenta la parrandaPaloma negra paloma negra dónde, dónde andarás?Ya no jueges con mi honra parranderaSi tus caricias han de ser mías, de nadie masY aunque te amo con locura ya no vuelvesPaloma negra eres la reja de un penarQuiero ser libre vivir mi vida con quien yo quieraDios dame fuerza que me estoy muriendo por irla a buscarY agarraste por tu cuenta las parrandas
Paloma Negra
Ya me canso de llorar y no amaneceYa no sé si maldecirte o por ti rezarTengo miedo de buscarte y de encontrarteDonde me aseguran mis amigos que te vasHay momentos en que quisiera mejor rajarme Y arrancarme ya los clavos de mi penarPero mis ojos se mueren si mirar tus ojosY mi cariño con la aurora te vuelve a esperarY aggaraste por tu cuenta la parrandaPaloma negra paloma negra dónde, dónde andarás?Ya no jueges con mi honra parranderaSi tus caricias han de ser mías, de nadie masY aunque te amo con locura ya no vuelvesPaloma negra eres la reja de un penarQuiero ser libre vivir mi vida con quien yo quieraDios dame fuerza que me estoy muriendo por irla a buscarY agarraste por tu cuenta las parrandas
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
It's not easy...
I'm the kind of person that craves a certain personal continuity. For me, personal authenticity is integral to maintaining stable and honest relationships. This is a virtue that I often encourage and look for in others. However, I have found that I am a hipocrate in my own quest to fulfill this challenge.
In some ways, I am a double agent. And metaphorically speaking, I guess this is just another mask I wear. I've been told that I have been doing this for years. However, I feel that I've just been saving people from the trouble of dealing with reality.
I know who I am, and I have a vision of who I might become. There is not one societal or familial bi-law that will prevent me from impacting the world around me. Nor is there any clause in any constitution that will hinder me from being who I really am. My humanity will always remain, depsite the hinderances of engaging in daily life. And I guess each person will view me in a different light. And in the end, does it really matter...for everyone has a different view of a good life. And I will always be transparent if you need me to be...
In some ways, I am a double agent. And metaphorically speaking, I guess this is just another mask I wear. I've been told that I have been doing this for years. However, I feel that I've just been saving people from the trouble of dealing with reality.
I know who I am, and I have a vision of who I might become. There is not one societal or familial bi-law that will prevent me from impacting the world around me. Nor is there any clause in any constitution that will hinder me from being who I really am. My humanity will always remain, depsite the hinderances of engaging in daily life. And I guess each person will view me in a different light. And in the end, does it really matter...for everyone has a different view of a good life. And I will always be transparent if you need me to be...
Mariposa Traicionera (Mana)
I know that many of you will not understand the rest of this rant, but it has meaning for me. Mana is a popular Mexican band that I heard a lot of when I was in Belize. This particular song has a great deal of significance, and for some reason, it keeps repeating in my head lately.
Eres como una mariposavuelas y te posas vas de boca en bocafacil y ligera de quien te provocaYo soy raton de tu ratoneratrampa que no mata pero no liberavivo muriendo prisioneroMariposa traicioneratodo se lo lleva el vientoMariposa no regresoAy, mariposa de amor, mi mariposa de amorYa no regreso contigoAy, mariposa de amor, mi mariposa de amorNunca jamas junto a tivuela amor, vuela dolory no regreses a un ladoya vete de flor en florseduciendo a los pistilosy vuela cerca del solpa'que sientas lo que es dolorAy, mujer como haces dañopasan los minutos cual si fueran añosmira estos celos me estan matandoAy, mujer que facil eresabres tu alitas, muslos de coloresdonde se posan tus amoresMariposa traicioneratodo se lo lleva el vientomariposa no regresoAy, mariposa de amor, mi mariposa de amorYa no regreso contigoAy, mariposa de amor, mi mariposa de amorNunca jamas junto a tivuela amor, vuela dolorque tengas suerte en tu vidaay, ay, ay, ay, ay doloryo te llore todo un rioay, ay, ay, ay, ay amortu te me vas a volar
Eres como una mariposavuelas y te posas vas de boca en bocafacil y ligera de quien te provocaYo soy raton de tu ratoneratrampa que no mata pero no liberavivo muriendo prisioneroMariposa traicioneratodo se lo lleva el vientoMariposa no regresoAy, mariposa de amor, mi mariposa de amorYa no regreso contigoAy, mariposa de amor, mi mariposa de amorNunca jamas junto a tivuela amor, vuela dolory no regreses a un ladoya vete de flor en florseduciendo a los pistilosy vuela cerca del solpa'que sientas lo que es dolorAy, mujer como haces dañopasan los minutos cual si fueran añosmira estos celos me estan matandoAy, mujer que facil eresabres tu alitas, muslos de coloresdonde se posan tus amoresMariposa traicioneratodo se lo lleva el vientomariposa no regresoAy, mariposa de amor, mi mariposa de amorYa no regreso contigoAy, mariposa de amor, mi mariposa de amorNunca jamas junto a tivuela amor, vuela dolorque tengas suerte en tu vidaay, ay, ay, ay, ay doloryo te llore todo un rioay, ay, ay, ay, ay amortu te me vas a volar
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