Fear, Oppression, Resiliency, Hope... The Human Condition

I'm writing from a bath tub... The self care that is happening this month is fantastic...

Last week we went to the Apartheid museum in Johannesburg. That was one of the things I was really hoping to do and a friend of Mindy's was so kind to take me. It was incredible and heart breaking and inspiring and had my brain doing cartwheels- just how I like it. Since I've been here I have observed some obvious left overs of Apartheid. All the workers are still black. On the highway you see cramped townships of tiny tin homes, women carrying whole lives on their backs and smiling kids playing soccer in the dirt fields. Contrast that with the clean, gated, swimming pool filled estates where all the white people live.

I've seen movies and read books about Apartheid and Mandela in the past- and they flash through my memory here and there but mostly I've been a quiet observer. Enjoying the luxuries of the gated estate without letting my brain run too fast. In all the transitioning between El Salvador and the states I've gotten better at swallowing extreme inequality- which is both good and bad. But last week in the museum I got a little bit more in depth understanding of this country I've been in for the past three weeks- and I am so so grateful for that.

We started with the special Mandela exhibit. The timeline of his life from a young boy given an English name in school to sound more "proper" to a rebel rouser with the African National Party becoming conscious and highly opposed to Apartheid South Africa. He and everyone who's skin was his color were understood to be and treated as completely inferior to the Europeans who came to South Africa following the discovery of gold. Segregation didn't work well enough to keep the two races separate and keep the non- European natives from sharing basic human rights with their European counter parts. So Apartheid was put into play. For 27 years from prison Mandela kept his spirits up, wrote letters to his family every six months that had a minuscule chance of arriving and won over the hearts and minds of fellow prisoners and guards alike. His charisma, commitment to life and justice, ability to keep hoping and memories of sounds, tastes, smells, and his family kept him in the struggle all those years.  He said he'd be the president of South Africa one day and after finally being released he fulfilled his dream. Working to rebuild an extremely broken nation, facilitate reconciliation and bring equality to his people.
As I read about his journey I thought of so many other amazing people I've been lucky to encounter both in stories and books and in friends I'm inspired by everyday. Romero, MLK, Dorothy Day, the Jesuits in El Salvador, and so many others are the people who keep us going when the suffering seems to pervasive to overcome. And amazing people in my life who are dedicated to justice every single day- who are charismatic and courageous, incredibly intelligent and committed to life and love. Mandela is one of a kind yet there are so many in our world of his caliber- women and men who continue the fight against oppression, isms, suffering and inequality that unfortunately is still every where we look. Above pictures of Mandela with supportive family and friends Aristotle was quoted "Good moral character is not something we can achieve on our own. We need a culture that supports the conditions under which self-love and friendship flourish" Mandela didn't stay hopeful and committed to get where he did on his own, he was supported by so many people. That is the truth of all of the amazing people who have started a path that we are continuing and is so important for me to remember everyday as I try to do something that matters with my life.

After the special Mandela exhibit we moved to the main permanent part of the museum- the history of Apartheid in South Africa- a grueling history of how much suffering we are capable of causing each other. It was helpful for the heart to see the Mandela exhibit first- and come in with some hope and overcoming as a back drop to the injustice that Apartheid South Africa was. Not so different from the history of slavery, Jim Crow and deep racism that still exists today it started years and years ago with the idea that native "non europeans" were inferior and thus had to be kept separate from Europeans as to not demoralize the superior class. The steps taken to separate the races with claims to protecting and taking care of the poor Europeans are outrageous.  Apartheid began in 1948 and the list of laws that were created to bar integration were listed on the wall- education, facilities, work, housing, relationships- a law was created regarding every facet of life to make sure mixing did not happen. Entire neighborhoods were forcibly removed so that the Europeans could develop these areas and if natives broke the apartheid laws they were banished to isolated camps and tortured. The "non European" schools, medical care, housing, everything was incredibly low quality. Children were forced to learn in a language they didn't speak to keep them from moving up in the world. Teachers were forced to teach only certain things. Families couldn't get medical care. The blacks were incredibly poor and oppressed while white society flourished.  Blacks were allowed into the city only on work permits to fill  roles as servants, gardeners, guards to white people- roles they still fill today. The suffering and injustice experienced is devastating and completely heart wrenching. And amazingly it isn't the end of the story. Despite every effort by whites to continue the dehumanization and horrible treatment the forces of human resiliency came together to organize and bring light to the suffering that they were experiencing for so many years. Students held strikes against learning in a different language and the masses began to take collective action against the laws. The white government responded with greater violence and attempts to stifle the voices calling for justice. Unfortunately.. It is a story we know- it has happened all around the world and keeps happening. 

I kept thinking about the way immigrants are treated in the U.S, our own history of slavery and institutionalized racism that still plagues our country. The Salvadoran Civil War, Syria.. This horrible constant of people being threatened by those who are different, afraid of loosing their power and wealth that manifests into such extreme oppression. It is everywhere- it always has been. What is it about the human condition that allows us to commit such atrocities against one another? And are we ever going to truly overcome it?

In a lot of ways the story of Apartheid is one of resilience and hope. Democratic elections finally happened, Mandela became president and worked hard to rebuild, create truth and reconciliation committees, nation building projects- everything he could to heal this extremely broken country. And today things are better, black people have more of a chance than they used to, segregation is no longer built into the system. But I still see the effects of it everywhere, the country is still incredibly segregated- the left overs are so obvious and it's going to take a lot of work to truly have equality in this country, our own, everywhere in this broken world.

Mandela's inspiration stuck with me while reading about the incredible suffering. His and so many other stories of people fighting against injustice that have started something for us to keep working for. And although at times I struggle to find hope I was comforted by all the faces of people I know that came to mind as I read about Mandela who help me believe that we will keep making progress. People who are so courageous and committed that will make real change. It helps to connect stories of both suffering and resilience that are happening across the globe- get out of our context and understand another's. While realizing that segregation, inequality, fear and oppression continue to effect people everywhere makes me sick to my stomach- it also fuels my fire knowing that in my community and all over the world there are people who are fighting against suffering having the last word.

I'm so grateful to learn a little about this country's history, for the eyes through which I have come to see the world and for all the people near and far that are asking the same questions and working to bring a glimpse of justice to their corner of the world. This country is fascinating and confusing even from the small, privileged, separate glimpse I am getting and the museum gave me a little more to chew on as I finish my time here and head home to continue learning and processing. 

Arriving

Creativity, writing, flow... its not coming naturally to me lately. It's frustrating and I'm not sure why- maybe because my brain was in academic mode all year, maybe because something about life isn't triggering my creative juices, maybe I'm not giving it enough time, maybe my doubt and inner critic are getting the best of me- whatever it is I would like to move past it. Theres so much to write about- but words don't seem to land on the page in a way I like at all lately. Last night after deleting and restarting many a drafts I gave up.. went to bed, couldn't sleep, wrote in my journal where the inner critic doesn't matter and then came across this Mary Oliver poem for the first time in a book I've had for years. It resonates a lot.

A River Far Away and Long Ago

The river

of my childhood

that tumbled 

down a passage of rocks

and cut- work ferns,

came here and there

to the swirl 

and slowdown

of a pool

and I saw myself-

oh, clearly- 

as I knelt at one-

then I saw myself

as if carried away,

as the river moved on. 

Where have I gone?

Since then

I have looked and looked

for myself,

not sure

who I am, or where,

or, more importantly, why.

It's okay- I've had a wonderful life.

Still, I ponder

where that other is-

where I landed,

what I thought, what I did

what small or even maybe meaningful deeds

I might have accomplished

somewhere

among strangers

coming to them

as only a river can-

touching every life it meets-

that endlessly kind, that enduring.

A week ago I landed in South Africa. After writing papers, finishing finals, packing, soaking up a week of a summer and a few short goodbyes- I flew 20 hours across the ocean to land in a new country, with a family that feels like home. Mindy and Jeremy invited me to come help them with their new twins and Kamryn for a month and I happily accepted. The first few days were a fumble of jet lag and transition from the chaotic constant running pace of life to very slow days at home snuggling babies. It was hard to get my body and brain and heart to slow down...but now I feel like I have arrived, fully here- embracing all the beauty of this time filled with gratitude.

A few days ago I went horse back riding for the first time since high school. The last time I rode a horse I was on crutches, healing from just tearing my ACL and absolutely terrified. Fast forward a few years to the campo in El Salvador when I was trying to make friends with my family's horse and got a swift kick to the thigh.. and a good bruise to keep us laughing the whole week. When I was young I rode horses fairly often but my most recent memories were not particularly good ones.  Then sometime this year I remembered going to horse therapy as a little girl after my parents got divorced- they are vague but very positive memories. So when a friend of Mindy's asked if I wanted to ride horses with her I said yes, excited for a chance to get out of the house and to reclaim my relationship with horses.

It was absolutely fantastic and reminded me how amazing my mom is- what an incredible thing to do for a young girl in a confusing time of life. Building a relationship with a horse, learning to take care of it, trust it and get comfortable riding it is full of healing power and life lessons. Yesterday riding beautiful, gentle, white "Snoop Dog" I was connected to those healing powers. Trusting that Snoop Dog (that name really doesn't do justice for how sweet this horse was) was strong, sturdy and capable- trusting myself to find a rhythm with him, relaxing and being present in the moment. 7 years ago (WOAH) as a junior in high school I couldn't do that. I was so far from being able to trust myself, be present, trust a big animal with my life.. I have done a lot of healing and growing since then. And maybe come back to some of those lessons I was learning as a little girl.. that are deep down somewhere- and so cool to be able to connect with in this time.

Then I came home and snuggled with the babies the rest of the afternoon. Sitting with Mindy in the rhythm of sleep, feed, change, repeat. We don't often have a reason to get out of our pajamas. Watch a lot of episodes of CSI, Bar Rescue.. whatever might be entertaining, read some, sleep some- its slow moving around here, the reality of two new born babies. Then when Kamryn gets home my role switches and its running to the park, playing catch and practicing Spanish, painting rocks and watching kids movies til bed time at 8. Then I read, talk to people at home, sometimes do a little yoga in my room until I go to bed not much later. At first I was a little restless but being here with the sole purpose of loving on this family who I love so very much and who has loved and cared for me SO well is a huge gift. I am reminded of how very important it is to just be with the people we love. How healing, nurturing, and balancing it is  be with these babies, with Kamryn and with Mindy in the midst of three years of craziness in school. Mindy has been there since forever, through all of the ups and downs and was so important to me turning out ok in this life. And it feels pretty special to be here with them letting all her love and time manifest in how much I love her babies. 

Thursday was also Eric's 24th Anniversary- my mom hates that word. Anniversaries are harder than birth days- or something- we didn't talk about it much yesterday- just a couple texts with Jes and mom that we were thinking of each other. But as I rode that horse, and snuggled with the babies, and laughed with Mindy and Kam- it felt like a little bit of all the pieces of me coming together. This past year has been a big year of looking for myself. I could have made a really different choice than going to grad school for theology and social work- and sometimes I wonder where the person who kept flowing with the river would have ended up. First semester I was so unsure about my decision, there are so many places I could be, things I could be doing- that it can be hard to be present to all the good that is right in front of me.  I wonder what it would be like if Eric was here. If I was in El Salvador still, if, if, if- but like the poem says- its okay I've had a wonderful life.  Grad school has a way of making us feel so important, so much responsibility, so deeply entrenched in all these big questions about suffering and equality and justice.. and I am SO glad to be asking those questions. But sometimes its ok to just be- to take a month to snuggle babies, to love people, to be with myself and the pieces of me that have been so many places, could have gone so many places- but are all one- here in South Africa, finished with one year of grad school, thinking and dreaming about the things I do- and so connected to all the different ponds that my life has stopped at. 

I also saw a zebra, some koodoos, spring box and impalas in the middle of the day- so that was exciting too ;)

Happy Birthday Dear Eric

Thirty years ago a little boy was brought into this world. I wonder what it was like in that room? I am sure it was full of joy, his screams filling their hearts, the excitement of baby number two, a little brother, another life. The hope of a whole life to come, full of growing and becoming and being a human in this world. Full of expectations, gratitude, joy and overwhelming emotions.

When I talked to my mom today she said "30 just really gets me, for some reason that number is a hard one." I think its because of all the things we imagine he would have done in thirty years on this earth. Maybe he'd be married, maybe not, maybe he'd have babies, maybe he'd be in school or traveling the world or climbing mountains. Maybe he'd live close to home, maybe he'd live close to me.

What they didn't know in that room, and what hurts so deeply still to this day, is that he didn't get to live the hope of the long life a parent expects for their new baby. All those maybes bring tears to my eyes and reverberate deep within my heart when I imagine what it would have been like to know him, to have him as a big brother for all these years. Maybe I'll always wonder what the dynamic between us would be like, what it would be like to be together as the three of us. Letting go of that wonder is something I don't think any of us will ever be able to do- or at least not me. Because that wonder is all I have- I don't have memories, or glimpses of who he was that I saw myself to imagine where his life might have gone. Its all a game of my imagination. And it hurts.

I asked my mom what she was going to do today- she wasn't sure. Sometimes she prefers to work on these days, sometimes she'd rather not- but I wish there was some ritual. I wish she had a community of people still holding her. Or something she did for herself that let her be with him and the hurt of loosing a child that just never subsides. I always post something about him, and as I was doing that this morning I wondered why. I want to remember him, I want the whole world to remember him, I want his presence, and the lack of it to keep mattering. Because it matters so much to us. It matters so much to me. And people's comments and responses have been so wonderful for me to read- I want to keep hearing stories of Eric forever, and I feel all the love he shared, all the love people had through him in those sweet responses.

As much as it hurts to wonder what it would be like if he was here. He has given me so much, his presence has always been known and even though we only shared a short 4 months on this earth, I wouldn't be me without his act in my story. Jesse has loved me so deeply, so well, taken such good care of me and again and again taught me the importance of family. Loosing Eric so young taught him how fragile this life is, and he taught me that. He taught me to say I love you on the phone from across the world, not hanging up til I told him I loved him too. He told me stories about Eric. He is the best big brother a girl could ask for and so much of that is rooted in what he learned from Eric.

I always believed so deeply he was somewhere watching out for us- and I still believe that. This life has been full of ups and downs, and we have survived a lot- and I think Eric has been so important to that. He was my first exposure to some other world- I believe in heaven and even in God because I believe in Eric. I want to be embodied in heaven so I can hug him and frolic with him, and talk about all the life I know he is witnessing. I feel him in the trees, see him in the sun and am reminded of his grace in rainbows. They tell me stories of his wisdom, his joy, his calmness through so much. He was an old soul and I am so grateful for the wisdom his soul, his life, his love that I know is present has given me. Eric taught me about strength and resiliency, through my parents who felt the deepest hurt- and still do, and about honesty and loss- in the ways we have always talked about him, he has always been a part of us and who we are.

So today, and always, thank you Eric for all you left here. You are a symbol of so much to me. And on my mind so often. Thank you Mom, Dad and Jesse for helping me to know Eric even when I only had 4 months with him. And thank you everyone who knew him for sharing him with me, for keeping him alive, and for your sweet- so very meaningful comments on his photo and so many other times that make me feel connected to him. We miss you Eric, and we love you with all our hearts.

To The Best of Friends: For Reminding Me Who I Am

It's 1:32am and I am working an overnight shift at CWU- the place I wrote about in my last blog. I had big plans to get lots of work done tonight- but I'm too tired to make my brain work. I've been meaning to blog and this week was so full- there wasn't a second for it, and even when there was I got caught up trying to figure out what exactly to write about. But maybe my sleepy brain will just let me write.. and not think. Bare with me- I'm half here.

I just read some silly Buzz Feed thing called "21 things you only know if you've been best friends for 10 years" and I shamelessly posted it on Elyse's wall- we have been blowing up social media with our excessive best friend love since we got to spend the most wonderful long weekend together in Austin. Elyse came into this world a little less than a year before me, my mama was in the room with her mama, then we went to daycare together and fought over my little ponies, we ski raced, swam in the lake, jumped on the trampoline, lived in each others houses and shared all things life and then when she moved away we became incredible at having a long distance friendship. We haven't lived in the same town since we were in 1st/2nd grade- that is SO many years ago. But she has been on the other end of the phone for every joy, hurt, fear, love, decision and question. We have met in the middle, driven hours to each other, taken planes and found ways to hold on tight to what we were so lucky to build when we were too young to know it was building. And Spring Break together was the best. Last year in El Salvador we decided with the way life is changing we need to take a trip somewhere together at least once a year- its too hard to get enough time when I'm home and we know how much we value our time. This trip to Austin to be with Dave was the first of those trips- and it couldn't have reaffirmed more what a great idea it is, how strong our friendship is and how lucky we are to have had each other forever and to know we will have each other forever.

There is not a moment in my life or a part of my heart that Elyse doesn't know and this trip we really got to bring all the pieces together- catch each other up on what has been happening in our worlds that sometimes seem far away. She helped me make sense of it all- and how it connects to my core. I have had so many conversations lately with friends about this whole "twentysomething stage". A time that feels big and important and exciting and scary and full of questions. When we were little I think we imagined ourselves at this stage in life with it all figured out- and so many of us agree that we are maybe more aware than ever of how much we don't have figured out. Mostly because for the first time the world is ours to make decisions about- no more somewhat planned out trajectory, no more permanent town, school, class, major, etc to define ourselves by- just us and the open road, deciding whats important.

Being with Elyse reminded me of who I am. We talked about everything under the sun. We laughed until we cried all weekend. We reminisced on the past- missing some things and grateful that others are in the past, we dreamed of the future and we felt such comfort in knowing that through it all we have each other- what a huge gift.

That was the theme of my Spring Break.. being with such amazing friends who know the deepest parts of me and are so very easy to be with. Elyse and I got to stay with Dave and see his world- laugh and play and bask in the comfort of being with friends you've known for too many years to count. Before that I was in Philly with 5 of my Casa sisters and it felt like no time had passed. I was like a kid in a candy shop the whole week- so overly joyful and content in every simple moment. Sitting on the porch eating breakfast in the sun, late night chats, roaming the streets of Philly and Austin, playing games, catching up over drinks and just feeling SO VERY RELAXED. I think a lot of that was because it felt so different than the every day here- which is so many good things, but is challenging and still new and stressful. I needed a break. I needed to be with people who know me really well and can help remind me when I feel a little confused. Spaces to just talk about all things life for hours- instead of 5 minute conversations before running to class. It was really the perfect Spring Break and as always exactly what I didn't know what I needed.

I came back feeling full, in touch, integrated and so very grateful for my friends, the space to reflect and process, the laughter, the relaxation. The beginning of this semester felt a little rocky- rocky in making sense of who I am especially in light of these degrees, communities and huge questions. I remember who I am again- and am reminded how important it is to continue to invest in new friendships and let them blossom knowing they all have the potential to become spaces that remind of whats important. I'm so lucky to have people in my life that know me so well- and who I don't ever have to explain things to because they were there the whole time- but I also know that its worth sharing my story and my heart with new people- because that's how the people closest to me have gotten so close.

I feel a brewing inside of continued integration and formation, investing in people here, opening myself to what sometimes feels scary or just a little less than comfortable. That's where good things come from. The first week back was jarring- we work hard and move fast here. But we are so privileged to be using our brains, surrounded by such caring, intelligent people and challenged every single day to make a little more sense of the world.

I hope to find some more balance so that Spring Break and every day life don't have to feel like complete opposites. And til then I'm grateful for the jet pack of energy and love I got from a week off.

Integration through Encounter

Last week I had an interview for a position as a mentor on an immersion trip. I felt so at home talking about my time in El Salvador, the importance of entering into someone else's reality and out of our own and how it is in relationships where we are moved to look more closely at who we are in this world, what our role is and what we want to commit our lives to. I reminisced about my first immersion trips at Santa Clara and my experience at Casa as a student when my whole world was rocked open. It was then that I knew I wanted to commit my life to serving, celebrating the dignity and humanity of every single person, finding a way to voice the experience of those whose voices aren't heard and fighting for justice.  But that was also the point that I came to know myself in a new way- the space they created for me to see what humanity was- that we are so similar even if our realities are so different. And in the midst of the rawness of their vulnerability and existence- I came to understand mine more fully.

A group of STM students are going to El Salvador for an immersion trip next week and I was telling someone yesterday how excited I am for them to find something there about themselves too. Because while the experience of engaging in a reality so different than our own is one of seeing how much we have in the comforts of our privileged life, reevaluating what we need, giving us perspective... it is so much more than that.  Something moves within you when you go outside of yourself, your comfort zone, your routine. Something that I cannot prescribe for anyone else because it is so personal and individual but incredibly profound.  I watched it move through every single one of my students last semester and have come to realize how much I miss the experience of being outside of myself. I knew I needed something more last semester. Classes felt suffocating, overwhelming and distant from a sense of reality, encounter and humanity that allowed me to be closer to myself every single day last year.

These last two months back have been so full, so unpredictable and wacky because of the snow and a little bit of a roller coaster. But I have been making connections, seeing how Theology and Social Work complement and build on one another, understanding my role here and feeling inspired and propelled to give more fully to this world- and so much of that is because of encounters with realities outside of my own.

I started a job at Crittenton Women's Union- a transitional homeless shelter for women and children not too far from where I live. I'm only there once or twice a week and in my position I'm not digging into the depths of these women stories or even becoming particularly involved in their lives. But I see their resiliency, their strength, the way they come together and the challenges of carrying their stories and trying to succeed as women, mothers, minorities, etc, etc in this world that does not take enough care of them. They make me laugh, challenge me and more than anything remind me how easy it is to connect with humans- no matter where we are coming from. I love the little moments of connection- when the barriers of worker vs guest, white vs non white, mother vs non mother break down- and we are just women, together in the world trying to make sense of life. While I sit and watch them interact with each other, hear their frustrations about the rules and every now and then get a glance of the suffering they carry, I start to make connections.  It makes a little more sense why I am here, how I will use these degrees to empower people, celebrate our common humanity, create spaces for healing and growth and through small interactions work for justice in this world.

I am coming to realize how badly I need this encounter with humanity in the midst of studying about all that is wrong with the world. Last semester I felt like I was talking about suffering so much and felt so overwhelmed because it was all in books, theories and words that only amounted to problems. Unlike some people, I just don't find hope there- I find hope in the humanity, the resiliency, the humor, the joy, the love...in all the ways that hope, not suffering, has the last word. Things that I felt so connected to all the time in El Salvador last year, and don't come as naturally in this context. I feel more connected to that hope this semester, more connected to myself, more connected to the world and reminded why I am here.

The word encounter feels dangerous, just like every other word that implicates and functions in so many ways beyond what we give it value for. It risks power and separation but to me it is exactly the opposite. Sameness, togetherness, withness. I have found it at Crittenton and it has reminded me how important it is in so many other areas of my life. When the snow feels frustrating and suffocating , some time letting it touch my face makes me appreciate it more. When I am insecure about relationships, judgements, assumptions- honest and vulnerable conversation where we encounter each other's deepest truths is the only remedy. And as ministers we must encounter reality if we are going to make real meaning. It is so easy to get comfortable, to stay separate and keep going through the motions of my routine. But I am so grateful for the reminder to step outside of myself into the greater world, and in turn closer to myself.

Square Peg in a Round Hole

Back in Boston. Back to the quick moving, alarms that go off to early, filling my brain with knowledge, sitting in classrooms overwhelmed with emotion and the joy of the community that has become home here. A friend talked about the sensation of leaving home and arriving at another home. Feels like the story of my life. When I landed in Boston I saw another BC Grad Student in the airport and it filled my heart, as I drove to my house knowing the way, recognizing buildings, memories in places we passed I felt a comfort that I didn't have last semester. A comfort of familiarity that still isn't the level of home in Colorado or the Bay but that reminds me of the ways this will continue to become home. The best thing about this place is the community we have built, thanks to the STM and its focus on community and the caliber of people it attracts who can talk about the biggest life questions and laugh til we cry, stay up too late and sometimes just let it all go.

I've wanted to write a million different blogs since I got back a week and a half ago and haven't been able to focus on one thing or find the time to sit down and let the words come together cause again my head is spinning with thoughts and questions and emotion, and again it doesn't quite feel like there is time to make sense of it all.

Every Thursday we have all school liturgy- it's usually mass, I sometimes struggle, often miss Santa Clara masses and Celebrations of the Word in San Ramon but always love the community that fill the pews next to me. Yesterday was the first I've been at since being back and it was an Ecumenical Prayer Service for Christian Unity. A woman presided and told the story of the woman at the well from a perspective of strength, curiosity and willingness to ask the hard questions to the people who see her as other. Seeing a woman up there, telling a story about the strength and independence of a woman moved me in a way that reminded me how always hearing a male voice doesn't move me. It was beautiful and painful and knocked me back into this world of trying to understand.. Why I am here? How do I fit in? What am I fighting for? And how much do I have in me to really fight when I could just go somewhere else where the progress I am so looking for has already been realized? One of my dearest friends sat next to me throughout the liturgy wiping tears away, asking the same questions, feeling that explosion of gratitude mixed with frustration that is most deeply felt not in the moments where we are surrounded by patriarchy and male voices but in the moments where a female voice surprises us, speaks to our hearts in a way a male voice often cannot. The response of so many incredible, strong, full hearted women was palpable in the air and that is what keeps me afloat here.

My theology classes this semester are Integrating Faith, Counseling & Services of Justice, Job and Suffering and Theological Anthropology of the Body. My month at home was a month of "I'm getting my MSW" with no mention of the other degree that takes up so much of my time, energy and heart- a Masters in Theology and Ministry. I haven't figured out how it all fits into me and still don't feel sure of articulating it to others. These classes, again, are exposing me to the problems AND the possibilities of this faith that has become some confusing part of me over the years. We are digging deep into the meaning of it all, looking at how it functions, the disparities between what we say and what we do and the ways we as ministers can use it for healing and liberation rather than oppression, control and judgment. It's hard to defend something I'm not totally sure of but Catholic Social Teaching, commentaries on suffering, ministry to the poor, hospitality and an unconditionally loving God who is not simply a white, man in the sky are values that have become part of who I am.

At the service yesterday students from different faith traditions poured water into the fountain, symbolizing the beauty of all of us coming together, then they presented objects symbolizing the gifts brought by each of these traditions. In a lot of my world even having a faith is something that boggles people's minds- that's the one part of this all I am sure of- there is something bigger than me out there. There is a resiliency, hope, strength, mystery in this world- especially amidst deep suffering that is bigger than humans, I found that in my own suffering and even stronger in the suffering of the Salvadoran people. The rest I am trying to make sense of. And I am trying to makes sense of all the different fonts of water that have been poured into me to make me Michelle- how they all come together into a fountain of life, strength, passion that is motivating me to be on this sometimes hopeless path of being honest about reality and committing myself to justice.

You can't fit a square peg into a round hole.. and maybe that's what's pulling me in ways that feel frustrating and leave me hopeless and up spinning at night. Maybe its not about figuring out how to fit into some mold that has been provided by the world to me. A mold of Catholic or not, committed to justice or not, living simply or not, consumerism or not, who I am in El Salvador or who I am in the US, suffering or joy. I KNOW this world is not black and white..my mom drilled that into my head years and years ago when she started to explain to me the pain she felt when people said "Everything happens for a reason or God only gives you what you can handle" after she lost her son. When I started trying to understand why on earth life had to be so hard for her when I knew it my heart of hearts she deserved none of it. I know that the pain caused by those black and white beliefs is part of the reason I'm here. Because when we understand that the gray is the only place we can really live, and each of our lives becomes a different shape that doesn't fit the triangle or the square or the circle- we have to work together to make sense of where we land, to hold each other up when nothing seems quite right. I want to walk with people in that. I want to love people when nothing make sense, look for comfort and hope when there isn't any, and take the pieces of all the different fonts of water that have poured into me and let them swirl together into something that doesn't make any sense.. but that's why its beautiful.

So this semester instead of trying to fit into some mold that has been held up for me by the world. There are so many- so many shapes different people seem to think are right. But I cant fit anyone else's shape- I have to be my own, find my own and create my own. I will take what I like and leave what I don't.. and continue looking for places and people that fill the empty spaces. But more importantly I will try to remember that that is ok- that is beautiful- that is what this world needs, because it's all too complex to be some simple make up of square, triangle and circle blocks dropped in a bin to all fit together.

Letting the Journey Unfold: A Reminder from the Fog

I sat on the bus this morning looking out across the bay in search of the big red bridge… the bridge I used to know as a symbol of San Francisco, that I played under when I visited Jesse in 8^th grade and then went to  on crutches when I visited him Senior year of high school. The bridge that I took visitors to during my time at Santa Clara, went for runs by from Jesse and Kylies condo and then this summer drove back and forth over again and again. That bridge screams home now, familiarity, beauty and that amazing quick hop from city to wide open beautiful spaces. I miss those wide open spaces. I wanted to post a picture of it as I flew away, one of my oh too typical sappy statuses about leaving a place and the people I love… and out the window all I could see was fog. The tears in my eyes, butterflies in my stomach, dancing between the hurt of leaving and knowing I’m leaving, going to a good place and cant get lost in my emotions all settled for a minute.. settled into what the fog has been a symbol of these past few months- the unknown, and trusting in that. A few months ago I stayed up all night with my head spinning, popped up early to go for a run in search of some sanity and on my regular run around the reservoir I couldn’t see a thing- just fog. I could only see five feet in front of me, and that is exactly what I needed. To stop looking forward, wondering, analyzing, agonizing and just be in the what is here and now- knowing that what comes tomorrow and the rest of forever is way more unknown than I let myself believe.

And this morning-  I needed that reminder. I had a dreamy week in the Bay. I absolutely love it there. I felt relaxed, grounded, thoughtful, inspired, surrounded by love, held, at home and whole. Sunday night mass at Santa Clara felt nourishing instead of just challenging, time with friends that are so comfortable I could completely relax, time outside in the sunshine and open spaces where my bones weren’t frigid and I wasn’t surrounded by people and buildings and lots of really really special time with my family- my little tribe who I really want my whole life to be about. Cooper and I took walks, rolled around on the floor, stayed in our pajamas too late, giggled, cuddled and got right back into spending hours together. And this morning when Jesse walked him into his room for his nap my eyes filled with tears- tears I had no control over. I spent a lot of my life having so much control over my emotions- that those overwhelming moments of ouch sometimes catch me by surprise, but I’m also thankful for them. I love that little guy a whole lot- a special kind of love that I can only imagine will multiply so much when it is my own child- but that blood bond is extra special. Its hard to be far away from him, know that he will keep growing so much and I will pop in and out every six months. But this time there also reminded me that our bond is cemented in and it doesn’t take long for him to refamiliarize with me, and lean his head against me when someone he doesn’t know walks in. He knows I’m safe and everything about him- his giggle, his smirk, his waddle, babbling, stubbornness, snuggles and sweetness, fill my heart with joy.

And being on the other side of the country from him, Jesse and Kylie, so many wonderful friends and a place that feels like home is not my favorite thing. But it’s the way it is right now- for good reason, for a good place, for something that I care about. It doesn’t feel 100% right there yet. And I spent a lot of this break trying to make sense of that- what’s missing? How much of it is it just being a new place? Being in grad school? Being 23 and trying to figure out who I am? I’m going back to a place I know, friends who know me, a routine, a home, so much familiar goodness- and to a semester that is full of surprises. I have no idea what is going to come out of these next four months, and next two and a half years. And while I gather reminders of what it is I need to make a place feel like home, I also am asking again and again for patience and trust in letting Boston and this time be whatever it’s supposed to be.

I’m excited to go back to my wonderful little home, my sweet Sophia sisters, the amazing group of friends we’ve found. To classes that stretch me. To a sense of purpose, potential, growth and the feeling of learning, stretching my heart and brain that is so electrifying. I’m grateful to get back to my space, my routine, a new job working with homeless women that will inspire me and connect me to reality, yoga classes, reservoir runs, a city that still has so much to be explored and so many things I can not yet see. Talking to Ella in the airport we talked about advice someone gave her to just be- not analyze, not question, just be- for one month. And I think that’s really good advice- that is easier said than done. This is a super privileged time- and while I want to keep finding ways to fill in the gaps, I also want to let it unfold, and let myself settle in.

As I walk into my second semester of Grad School I bring an awareness of some missing pieces, a need to nourish my soul in light hearted ways more, a pang of missing what is familiar. I am in touch with how lucky I am to be here- in a new place, learning so much, letting life unfold as it does. And I will keep remembering the fog- trusting in the unknown, and being patient as I find what is waiting for me along the journey.