Saturday, January 26, 2008

new humanity

There is a lot going on in my head, and I think the mix is brewing to something bigger, but it's not there yet and writing helps me sort it out while simultaneously recording the rabbit trails. Because you never know which tangent will turn into something more substantial (having real existence; something of substance, essential nature), something tangible (able to be realized or dealt with).

I want to talk about humanity. About recognizing those around us as fellow beings infused with the divine spark. About looking past the barriers we construct or those that have been constructed for us to see the truth: not color, not citizenship, not profession, not political or religious view. Instead, to tear down those "DIFFERENT FROM ME" walls and see the similarities.
Instead of fear or hatred or apathy, to be filled with love and compassion.
com + pati to suffer together.

Today I served tea to a prostitute and her client.
It left a scar on me, but my coworkers mainly responded with amusement and took turns walking through the lobby to see the "show".

She is my sister, and it breaks my heart. When she was a little girl, what did she dream? What did she want to be when she grew up?


Truly seeing each other is painful, and it is easier to keep the walls up. But can we enter the pain, and cross through it, and find life? Find a new humanity? A humanity that sees the similarities before the differences, a humanity whose base is that the "other" is just like me -- a bearer of the divine image.
"Only on love's terrible other side is found the place where the lion and lamb reside." (M. L'Engle, The Other Side of the Sun )

And--in all my righteous anger over the exploitation of women and sex and the human body, and institutionalized, systematic dehumanization by prostitution, slavery, torture, pornography, addiction, etc.--can I see the man who pays for a night with her as a fellow image-bearer, too? Can I extend grace to my fellow divine sparks who are bathed in apathy, cushioned by thick walls that provide easy labels to avoid the pain of re-humanizing the world?

"This one, too, this person Jesus died for. This is a child of God. How can I hate this person? God loves him. How can I fear this person? God treasures her."
(qtd. in Being White, Paula Harris and Doug Schaupp)

this is the only way. get particular. get down to the individual level, to the nitty-gritty, and wear glasses of love. this is how things change -- racism, sexism, classism, discrimination and division and inhumanity of any kind. this is how we bring heaven to earth.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Return to Me

Why this title? Two reasons:
1. I just watched this movie, in which David Duchovney falls in love with Minnie Driver, who received his dead wife's heart. Of course, when I came into the room I thought my friends told me that the gorilla had a woman's heart and I was a bit confused. However, it's a pretty cute movie.
2. I just returned to my lovely Greensboro from Miami, that foreign country at the bottom of Florida.

Four things I like about Miami:
1. hearing different languages on all sides
2. the cultural, ethnic, and racial mixing
3. the food
(yes, those three are all connected, I suppose) and
4. going to the beach in January!

One thing I don't like about Miami (or at least, South Beach):
1. the overwhelmingly materialistic and super-sexualized atmosphere.

Continuing amazement: I travelled 800 miles in less than 2 hours. Twice.
Thanks to precise scientific measurements and experiments involving flaps and propellers and wind currents and many other things that I don't understand (plus a little magic, I'm sure), I don't have to drive half a day to see a friend. I was thirty-seven thousand feet up in the air! And I feel fine!
I've flown before, and further, but this just amazes me when I really think about it.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Who hits a bus??

This morning, the bus I was riding got rear-ended.
Thankfully, we were only a couple of blocks from the terminal (where we were headed) so we three passengers just got off and walked. But really, did the driver not see the bus in front of him? Maybe he was messing with his radio. When I think about it that way, I'm surprised I've never hit a bus before.


Frustration: Being a young, single woman teaching adult students from other cultures. As your instructor I can not date you, nor do I want to, really.
Especially when you're twice my age.
Or can't even put together the complete sentence to ask for my number.

But then, I feel bad because I'm the teacher and my desire is for them to enjoy class and to learn and to become more comfortable in the cultural setting. Besides, it takes guts to ask somebody out. And I don't want to crush them.
Advice? Opinions? (Oh, and I'm a terrible liar, so making up a boyfriend probably won't work too well.)


On the opposite end of the emotional spectrum: I had a nice conversation with a girl on my way back to Greensboro, whose enthusiasm was contagious. She was going to meet her fiance after not seeing each other for two years. He'd been in prison in New York and they're going to get married tomorrow. Her birthday is Friday. Their daughter is going to be surprised that Daddy is finally able to make good on the promise to come play with her. It's a big week!

It's a big week for my household, too. Two roommate birthdays (one, a twenty-first) and a trip to Miami!!!

Friday, January 11, 2008

sharp knives

Part of my job as a tea hostess is preparing for the following day. After the guests have been served, the bills have been paid, the lobby has been cleaned, and the dishes have been washed, two things are left: folding napkins and cutting lemons.
This evening, I went back to the pastry kitchen in search of a knife for my lemon-cutting duties. I watched as the pastry chef rinsed one off for me and swiftly and skillfully honed the blade.


"As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." (proverbs 27:17)


I went to a friend's apartment after work to see her new place and have some tea (after serving all afternoon, it's nice to be served!). We ended up making some tapas and having great conversation, encouraging each other, sympathizing with one another, and discussing recent thoughts and mini-epiphanies.
In the struggle to be fully human -- to BE -- connection is so essential, and yet so easy to breeze right past. I was supposed to go eat and stay the night with another good friend, but those plans fell through. Either way, I'm sure my night would've been refreshing and fun, but BEING for that time with Anna was life-giving for both of us. We shared from what we've been reading and listening to lately; we spoke affirming truths. I left feeling satisfied and fortified -- sharpened -- from time with another little iron.

I always want to go and do. To be "productive". Suddenly, instead of responsibilites being good things, I find myself enslaved and unable to enjoy. Work becomes "the daily grind" instead of a meaningful and stimulating pursuit.
It's my tendency to try to cram too much in, and this can reach into the social realm as well. Instead of really being with a friend, I am thinking about what, or who, is next on my agenda for the day. "Concentrate on the particulars," says the Madeleine L'Engle who lives in my head. Don't just have a dialogue (dia: across, legein: speak), have a conversation (conversari: live with, keep company with; literally, "turn about with").

Let's turn about with each other. Let's live. Let's encourage each other to really see, really hear, really taste, smell, and feel. Rub up against each other: sharpen up.



proper respects to: my dear Madeleine (A Circle of Quiet again), www.etymonline.com, http://joyinthemargins.blogspot.com (especially his late-2007 series on margin)

Monday, January 7, 2008

primavera en enero

("spring in january"... but i like the sound of it better in Spanish. There are more repeated sounds. or how about primero veranenero, which is jibberish-y, but has even more rhyme-y/ alliterative syllables and could mean something like "first summer-january")

Today in my break between working, I walked down to the park with a blanket, my journal, and a book to enjoy the weather. My occasional whistles accompanied the steady flip-flop rhythm of my paces. Breathe deeply: be conscious of each breath.

In the grass, dotted with spiky sweet-gum balls, I spread my mat. Bare toes encouraged soles to take it all off and get comfortable. My soul got comfortable. I faced the sun, felt as though I were setting aside time to have daily prayers, like a faithful Muslim facing Mecca. Only, I think I was actually facing south-ish. No matter: this is holy ground.
Each breath in rejuvinated. Each breath out gave thanks.
It lasted like this for about 7 minutes.

and then, the clock pealed the half-hour and I looked around and decided to read.


unfinished thoughts: could it have lasted longer? could i have reconnected? this rest was wonderful; why don't we have mandated breaks to re-center? siesta, prayer times (the Islamic world has five; can't we at least have one?), elevensies, whatever!


thanks to: http://www.woodlands-junior.kent.sch.uk/Homework/religion/Islam.htm#pray , Rob Bell (again, but this time via Nooma video "Breathe"), my small group ladies for wonderful convo

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Ontology is the "metaphysical science or study of being," and comes from the latin "ontologia".
This blog, if I manage to stay committed to it, will hopefully present snippets of a study of being: of my life and personal growth and regressions, of human nature, and of the sparks of the divine in and all around us. These studies of being will come in the form of reflections on books, interactions, thoughts, and travels. They will be an attempt to keep a record, and to find the cosmic in the chaos.
I desire to make a mark, albeit a rudimentary scratch or doodle in the dirt. This is a very human impulse. It is part of being.

I am not one who makes New Year's Resolutions. I prefer short-term goals and long-term aspirations, but don't usually view my life in twelve-month blocks. Maybe this is why New Year's celebrations are confusing to me. The second between December 31 of one year and January 1 of the next doesn't mystify me or thrill me as much as it seems to affect those around me. Am I a scrooge? (By the way, thank you, Mr. Dickens, for your impact on the English language.)
What does this new year have in store for me, then? It will be my first full calendar-year since 1989 of not being in school. I hope to travel some, to make conscious and consistent efforts to spend time with friends, and to keep reading. I hope to continue toward (and attain?) complete financial independence from my parents. I hope to continue to enjoy my work. I hope to more fully enjoy the good things of life in all its moments, including this one, rather than always and only looking ahead.
I hope to remind myself to live "ontologically" -- to be what I am, without trying to add to or take away from that essence (Gk. ousia).
I am human. Therefore, let me be fully human: neither animal nor angel. I will live in that tension. I consent to it.


[Maybe the creation of this blog is an attempt, or the result of a desire, to have a Resolution. "Resolution" being a breaking down into simpler parts, an understanding or solving, as well as making a decision and holding firmly (as in resolute). The "holding firmly" part is what scares me. I don't want to make this blog a chore, and then feel guilty if (inevitably, when) I slack off. I do, however, want an outlet and some feedback occasionally. Also, this is more formal than my paper journal, and can perhaps motivate me to write again. I miss harnessing my creativity.]

authors who deserve recognition for their contributions to my thoughts: Madeleine L'Engle (A Circle of Quiet, The Summer of the Great-Grandmother) and Rob Bell (Sex God)
websites: www.etymonline.com