Like a Bridge over Troubled Water

My thoughts were jumbled yesterday on the way home.
an excerpt from a chat with a friend:

Me:
my thoughts: 1) I feel things so deeply and that won't ever stop. and 2) Everyone is trying to find their place, be accepted, have people affirm them.

Her:
on (1)it is the avenue by which you will be wounded... but it is also the avenue by which you will be healed
on 2) isn't it somewhat nice to know we're all in the same leaky boat

Pain is everywhere. As I said earlier, we are all trying to drive on our severely malfunctioning "donut" on our previously well functioning cars. Everytime I feel like I should be a fully functioning individual, something deeply emotional and painful comes to my life. This summer is a hard summer. I was ready for it to be a good summer- easy going, full of great realizations about the Lord and about myself, and wonderfully stress free.

I got a wake up call. Lots of unstructured time equals lots of thinking, and lots of thinking means that I evaluate absolutely everything in my life, and lots of evaluation can either lead to change or depression. I have chosen to embrace change, but, of course, every time you decide to embrace change, there will be a million obstacles in the way.

So, on 1) I feel things deeply. I am learning to accept and love that about myself. I know that the people that affect change in this world are the people who have compassion and a deep sense of the pain that exists. My heart hurts, seemingly, at every bend in the road. I saw a man riding a bicycle today, obviously not dressed very well, and I wondered immediately what his situation was in life. It hurt to know that he may not have what I have. I absolutely hate seeing animals lying dead on the side of the road. Statistics about children who go to bed hungry or people who cannot read or children who suffer from very poor parenting- these things hurt my heart.

What's more- people who let their friends down, people who take advantage of others, and broken friendships. One of my thoughts on the road had to do with the broken friendships that happened as a result of my parents' divorce. I have always loved the thought of living in community, and my community shrunk as a result of that broken marriage. That hurts, because I desire that communion with others so much. I want the connection that runs deep into the soul; I rarely settle for surface level friendships.

That leads into what was my second thought, that we all want to feel affirmed. I want the readers of this menial blog to care, and I want them to respond to my writing. I have this great dream of someone discovering my journals at the end of my life and having some of the writings published. I am not a profound writer, I don't feel that I have the strength of meaning that some writers do, but I want that to be affirmed. Deep friendships, strong community, the sense of belonging to something, be it a movement, or a church, or a group, or the Honors Society, or the Democratic Party, those all seem to validate our existence in our minds. And in some ways they do validate that we exist in a thriving and growing society, but the membership of any one of those groups should not affirm our being.

I deeply desire the kinds of friendships that grow me and change me and leave lasting impressions. I'm always seeking to dig deeper and become more intimately acquianted with the friends that I care about. Sometimes I desire a close friendship with someone so much that I push them away, and I am deeply saddened when I lose contact with people that I care about. Friendships are seasons, though, and friendships contain seasons. I always have to remind myself of that.

These entries seem so self centered. Shouldn't I be talking about the important issues in the world?

"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must breakt, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guilded by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears."

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

"We're just country folk"

"I believe in the decencies of the human race. Helping someone with their luggage, a greeting from a bus driver, a smile of understanding, a courteous gentleman showing us the way to our bus, the flight attendant giving us extra food."

"the thriving kindness of the human race, shown in in moments of smiles, gestures, conversations, and politeness. That is what I beleve in."

-journal, June 2007

My week has been filled with sunshine, reading, the beach, the pool, eating good food, and being surrounded by middle class Americans who are enjoying themselves on vacation. It is a blessing to be able to go on vacation in such a beautiful place, to be taken care of, and to enjoy my family. I am so thankful for the gifts that I have been given.

We drove through the Dominican countryside, passing houses made of pieces of metal, saw the streets of the city. I watched longingly from the window of the airplane, knowing that I was going to a beautiful place, filled with tourists, and that there was nothing I could do to get away. It's not as if I see myself as some great saviour, going to help the people, saving their lives from pain and heartache. I just want to be with the people. I want to really see their country, taste it, see what they see every day, and experience their lives. And I didn't choose the easy route of an all- inclusive resort, I was asked to accompany my dad and his family and I gladly went, knowing that I would feel this way once I arrived.

And so I was a tourist. And just like the others, I relaxed and allowed the staff to serve me. Why that makes me feel like I should plead guilty at a trial, I don't know. But it does.

It frustrates me to no end to realize that we exploit the beauty of a country while the people live in poverty. I have no right to sit in a resort and enjoy myself, or do I? (and the voice inside my head whispers: be thankful for what you are given, Erin.) I heard countless conversations about the drinks, about the couples that were there that started drinking since they got there and had 8-10 drinks a day, went on excursions, sat around the pool, meeting other people and talking about useless things. Empty conversations, with no merit or value. Meeting people just for the sake of meeting them. What the hell? If you don't care to get a person's name by the end of the conversation, discover something of value from their life, what is the point of meeting them?

I'm probably being a little harsh, because I too, enjoy talking to people from different parts of the country and the world. I met a couple from Malta, who spoke fondly of the beautiful island where they grew up. I asked questions about their lives and listened over dessert one night. Those are the conversations I cherish: the ones where I gain an understanding of the value of someone's life, of what makes their heart beat and what makes them proud.

But there were other conversations. Ones about the different islands that people had visited, the quality of the resorts or vacations that they had. I sat there, listening, wondering if that was the point of their life. They worked, had a family, went to the tanning bed to get tan for their vacation, saved money for their vacation, new cars, new wardrobes, season tickets, new houses, whatever. Is that how their lives circled about? Or am I too quick to judge the surface conversations of people and assume no depth to their existence?

My father, who I admire as a hardworking man, frustrates the hell out of me sometimes. He embodies what I think of as a "good ol' boy" but he also is borderline redneck. I believe in presenting yourself as someone of character and dignity, and being open minded, sincere, and educated about the variety in our world. My father has had a great deal of education about other cultures, but he has somehow slipped into the sheltered southerner that I often criticize. How I hate that I criticize it, but I want to be realistic, not hateful.

"Where you folks from?" "We're just country folk," he said. (OH GOD please don't put me into that category.) I was almost embarrassed to be associated with him for fear that I would be taken as a backwoods country girl with no education. The questions that were asked! Ahh! Sometimes it drove me nuts. I wanted to snap at him sometimes and prove his ethnocentrism. Believing that everything should be his way, saying with relief when we were back in Atlanta that he was glad that we were back in a familiar place, one where everyone spoke English.

I am proud of my Southern heritage, the hospitality and the history of the South is appealing and beautiful to me. At times I really regret that I did not receive more of an education than I did, that I wasn't given the opportunity to fight for the honor role or the spot in class ranking. Maybe then I would be more apt to compete in college. I would have loved to go to a Montessori school. But those are things that I cannot change. What I can improve is me now. I can gain an international perspective, broaden my worldview, and not be content to stay in Georgia for as long as I live and rot away thinking that American wouldn't benefit from having a woman as president (another point of contempt that came up this week).

What matters to me are not my grades, but my worldview and the way I function in the world. My ability and willingness to do whatever I can to benefit the human race are what I want my legacy to be. I hope I get the honor or wearing beautiful diamonds and the pleasure of seeing beautiful places, but these things will not define my worth. My social standing will never be the most important to me.

How delightful to think that one day, if I am given the gift of children, I may show them the beauties of the world and allow them to discover what treasure it possesses. They will receive a wonderful education, because my parents chose to give me the best education they saw fit. Maybe I didn't get the pleasure of honor rolls, but I learned about Lewis and Clark by walking on the land that they walked on. I saw whales in the ocean outside of Oregon, and I walked through the streets of Williamsburg and imagined what it was like in the Colonial era. My education was shaped through my experience, and, as I adamantly informed my mother one day, "learning doesn't stop when you get home from school!"

May I not judge those who find their culture far better than others, but seek to educate them through my acceptance and actions. May I not judge those who seem, on the surface, to be materialistic, but dig deeper and learn what is important. And may I always, always, recognize the beauty in my world and live for the pleasure of others.

Mother India

Father, forgive me, for I have not believed
Like Mother India, I have groaned and grieved
Father, forgive me, I forgot Your grace
Your Spirit falls on India and captures me in Your embrace

-Caedmon's Call, "Mother India"

Those lyrics haunted me this morning on my ride to work. "I forgot Your grace." Has described my life exactly these past few weeks, months.

What is your burden? That thing that you can't not do... That thing that follows you around and nags you, the subject that raises the hairs on your arms and makes you lay awake at night. That thing....that thing that makes your heart hurt and your mind race. I think there are so many "things" floating around in my head these days, and it's difficult for me to identify my burden.

To frame it in a very loose manner, I love people. I am drawn to people in crisis, people who have been thrown into difficult circumstances. It began my freshman year with the women in the domestic violence shelter. All of those women have such beautiful souls- they deserve nothing more than happiness and love. But for the majority of them, life had thrown curve-ball after curve-ball their way. Growing up in poverty and abuse creates a cycle in the lives of many people- more poverty and abuse. For some resilient and determined women, the shelter was an avenue of success and freedom, but for many, it was merely a rest stop in the continuous cycle of pain. Seeing their children suffer that same lifestyle hurt me in more ways that I can say, but I was always encouraged by that one determined woman who took every opportunity that she was given.

Then came the Sexual Assault Center. I can't stay away from crisis! These victims presented an entirely different story of pain. The depth of pain that a survivor of sexual assault endures is unlike anything I have ever seen. Freedom and control is taken away from those victims in one incredibly horrific moment. Because whether the encounter is vicious and violent or a date rape, it is all about control, and having your control ripped from you is one of the most painful experiences. I admire those brave women and men who step forward with stories about sexual assault. The pain and agony I've seen in victim's eyes are only matched by the determination and bravery I see in the survivor who has overcome that pain.

And now, this summer. I spoke with DFCS about interning with them and then with another child emergency shelter in our area. Both of these areas would be directly involved with children in crisis, and by golly, I landed right in the middle of it all.

The woman I work for serves as the director of social services and also works for State and Family Connections. Those two roles contain a lot of responsibilities. Basically, our office connects service, faith, business and government in order to serve our county's families. I have worked with Local Workforce Development to bring people out of generational poverty, have been through Cultural Diversity workshops and learned about serving and understanding various populations in our county, and have been priveledged to sit in on multiple cases with children that the court has deemed incompetent. I have met countless individuals who all have similar hearts of service, and I have enjoyed it all.

The people in pain that I see from my desk at the office is varied day by day. I have seen idiotic parents who don't give a damn about their kids and only want the check that comes in the mail. I have seen people who are so desperate that they are crying on the phone trying to get help, having never asked for it in their lives. But I have also encountered those people who feel that the people who want to help owe it to them to help them. The unfortunate thing about your heart breaking for those in pain is that you constantly have to filter your compassion, realizing that people will run right over you.

So my burden is people. I went to work with my friend on a Habitat for Humanity house on Saturday, and I was overwhelmed with emotion, thinking about the fact that everyone deserves decent housing, and that some people "play house" in the cardboard boxes or shacks that they call home. I am devastated that so many don't have the gift of a secure home, and I am more devastated that so many more don't realize the gifts that they have. I try to recognize my blessings daily.

It's difficult to describe the amount of responsibility that I feel towards people. It makes my heart hurt so badly sometimes. I don't know what capacity I will be able to serve people in, but I hope I'll come to the end of my life and feel as if I accomplished something. The thing about is, I must never feel as if I am serving "those in need." I think the hardest thing about service is bypassing the mindset that these people are less than you and that you have something to give them that they could never obtain themselves. I never want to serve people like that. I pray that my service is created out of my love for people and my desire to see them happy, never out of my pity for them. Compassion, not pity.

I'm doing what I think I was put on this earth to do. And I'm really grateful to have something that I'm passionate about and that I think is profoundly important.

We must not, in trying to think about how we can make a big difference, ignore the small daily differences we can make which, over time, add up to big differences that we often cannot foresee.

-Marian Wright Edelman

I am an African

"I am an African
Not because I was born there
But because my heart beats with Africa’s
I am an African
Not because my skin is black
But because my mind is engaged by Africa
I am an African
Not because I live on its soil
But because my soul is at home in Africa

When Africa weeps for her children
My cheeks are stained with tears
When Africa honours her elders
My head is bowed in respect
When Africa mourns for her victims
My hands are joined in prayer
When Africa celebrates her triumphs
My feet are alive with dancing

I am an African
For her blue skies take my breath away
And my hope for the future is bright
I am an African
For her people greet me as family
And teach me the meaning of community
I am an African
For her wildness quenches my spirit
And brings me closer to the source of life

When the music of Africa beats in the wind
My blood pulses to its rhythm
And I become the essence of music
When the colours of Africa dazzle in the sun
My senses drink in its rainbow
And I become the palette of nature
When the stories of Africa echo round the fire
My feet walk in its pathways
And I become the footprints of history

I am an African
Because she is the cradle of our birth
And nurtures an ancient wisdom
I am an African
Because she lives in the world’s shadow
And bursts with a radiant luminosity
I am an African
Because she is the land of tomorrow
And I recognise her gifts as sacred "