Walk On

I realized today that much of life is just interpretation.

I spent the afternoon at a movie. I treated myself. Not only to the show but also to the $5.75 small popcorn that accompanied it. In the interest of watching something light and entertaining I decided on “He’s Just Not That Into You.”

It wasn’t until I was in line at the theater that I realized what I was doing. It is Valentines Day and I am going to a movie, by myself…and not just any movie but, “He’s Just Not That Into You.” Wow. Pathetic?

But here is the real story.

It’s not pathetic. Not even kind of. The truth is, I had a wonderful afternoon. Even though I fundamentally disagree with the entire concept of the movie, I enjoyed it on a completely non-life-changing level. I got out of the movie and decided to walk the two miles home instead of taking the train. On the way home I talked to my parents and enjoyed the beautiful day.

When you don’t know any better, the day does seem pathetic. But the reality is, the afternoon didn’t materialize out of self-pity or loneliness, it occurred out of the desire to get out of the house and treat myself to something I don’t normally get to do. And the fact that it was Valentine’s Day? A happy coincidence.

And so I begin looking at the other interpretations in my life.

I graduated from college and moved to New York City. I am doing what many young idealists would love to do, working for an organization in which I truly believe. Wow. Perfect?

But here is the real story.

It’s not perfect, not even kind of. The truth is, it’s hard. I have realized that though I work for an organization, in which I truly believe, I am not good at it. Don’t get me wrong, I get my work done and I get it done well, but I am not really suited for it. Inventory systems and spreadsheets and thousands of handbags and mismatched pottery…. It’s not all my cup of tea.

When you don’t know any better, my life seems perfect. But the reality is, its not. But the rest of that reality is: that is okay. I may not be where I want to be a year from now, but I am on my way there. I may not even know where I want to be a year from now, but I am on my way there. The people I am meeting, the things I am learning, the experiences I am having, they are all why I am here. I am not here for perfect. I am here for growth. And that, I am sure, is happening.

I may not be well suited for it, but when I go to work, I ensure that women all over the world are treated with dignity in at least one aspect of their lives. I help to ensure education for their children or their siblings. I help to provide them with a means to put food on their table or a roof over their heads. I may not be perfectly suited for it, but it matters.

When it comes to the interpretation of my life, there are any number of versions to choose from. But what matters is that I am just where I am supposed to be. I am tending to the parts of me that need tending to and I am cultivating relationships that I choose to. Nothing about it is pathetic and nothing about it is perfect. But I will keep it just the same.

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Cant Go Back Now- The Weepies

Yesterday when you were young
Everything you needed done was done for you
Now you do it on your own
But you find you're all alone, what can you do?

You and me walk on, walk on, walk on
'Cause you can't go back now

You know there will be days
When you're so tired
That you can't take another step
The night will have no stars
And you'll think you've gone as far
As you will ever get

You and me walk on, walk on, walk on
'Cause you can't go back now

And yeah, yeah, you go where you want to go
Yeah, yeah, be what you want to be
If you ever turn around, you'll see me

I can't really say
Why everybody wishes they were somewhere else
But in the end, the only steps that matter
Are the ones you take all by yourself

You and me walk on, walk on, walk on
Yeah, you and me walk on, walk on, walk on
'Cause you can't go back now
Walk on, walk on, walk on
You can't go back now

This I Believe--Tarak McLain

Something new to strive for--the wisdom of a 7-year old.
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NPR Weekend Edition, January 18, 2009 ·


Seven-year-old Tarak McLain was born in Thailand and lives with his family in Austin, Texas. He collects and hands out food to the homeless and raises money for orphans and impoverished schools. He reads about the world's religions and listens to public radio. On the 100th day of school he and his classmates were asked to bring 100 things, most brought pecans, or nails, Tarak brought a list of 100 things he believed. For "This I Believe" on NPR he edited it to 30.



I believe life is good.

I believe God is in everything.

I believe we're all equal.

I believe we can help people.

I believe everyone is weird in their own way.

I believe hate is a cause for love.

I believe that when I meditate I feel peaceful.

I believe we should be generous.

I believe brothers and sisters should be kind to each other.

I believe kids should respect their parents.

I believe I should not whine.

I believe people should wake up early.

I believe people should go outside more.

I believe in nature.

I believe people should use less trees.

I believe we should help the Arctic and rainforest animals.

I believe people shouldn't throw litter on the ground.

I believe people should not smoke.

I believe God is in good and bad.

I believe in magic.

I believe people should not give up.

I believe love is everywhere.

I believe that God helps us to have a good time.

I believe we live best in a community.

I believe we can protect people in danger.

I believe we should help the poor.

I believe it's OK to die but not to kill.

I believe war should not have started.

I believe war should stop.

I believe we can make peace.

“No ordinary wings I’ll need, the sky itself will carry me."

As the city speeds past me, with its yellow cabs and Wall Street brokers, it overflows with people, ideas and deadlines. It walks a constant line somewhere between potential implosion and awe-inspiring existence.

In that sense, I often feel a bond with the city. Instead of overflowing with people, my head seems to overflow with possibilities and walking a line between self-destruction and extraordinary existence is nothing new in this life.

December was a challenging month for me. Between 50-hour workweeks, whirlwind road trips to Georgia for protests, and all of the wonderful people who visited me, I was simply exhausted. By the time Christmas came, I was too tired to even think about the fact that I wasn’t going to be home with Colorado with my family. I just wanted sit down. Hannah and I spent our Christmas in the Upper East Side at John’s apartment since he was going to be in Michigan for the holidays and we needed to get out of Astoria. On Christmas Eve, we trekked our way to the Upper West Side for Christmas Eve service at Riverside Church. It was cold and rainy and having accidentally gotten off at the wrong stop, we walked 20 blocks to get there. We walked in, simply looking forward to sitting down and warming up and were greeted with an awe-inspiring church, rivaling some of the most beautiful cathedrals I experienced in Europe. It was the beginning of exactly what we needed.

Christmas Day we woke, made our way to the grocery store down the block and made ourselves a Christmas feast of biscuits and gravy, apples, orange juice and coffee. We then made our way to Penn Station to take the Long Island Railroad to a fellow GSV’s family’s house in Garden City. I think both Hannah and I were nervous about this. Christmas traditions are things that are hard to bring other people in, and were acutely aware
of how gracious they were to let us into their home and their Christmas. As I boarded the train back to the city that evening, my face literally hurt from laughing and smiling all day. Kate’s family was not only gracious; they were funny and easy to talk to. I never once felt like I was intruding upon their Christmas. As I fell asleep that night, I still wished with my whole being I was home with my family, but I felt extraordinarily fortunate to have been welcomed into such a wonderful family. It was exactly what I needed.

And so came New Years Eve. Sara, Hannah, John and I ended up at a bluegrass show in the East Village and successfully avoided tourists completely. As the countdown commenced, I was blissfully unaware of the ball dropping some 30 blocks from where I was. I had champagne, bluegrass and three wonderful people who bless my NY life, it was exactly what I needed.

Without skipping a beat, on New Years Day Hannah and I boarded the Chinatown bus to Boston for the weekend. The first thing I asked Hannah, who went to college in Boston, was “Where are all the people?” I have become so accustomed to New York City streets bursting at the seams with people, little Boston seemed empty to me. But I soon realized that in Boston, I felt I could breathe. I hadn’t realized I couldn’t breathe in NYC, but the refreshing full breaths of Boston air took me by surprise. The sprawling aisles of grocery stores and wide-open spaces of Barnes and Noble made a stark contrast to my cramped NYC. I found Boston to be a city after my own heart, with beer and history at every turn. It was nice to get out of New York, and Boston seemed to be exactly what I needed.

And I went back to work feeling somewhat refreshed for the first time in months. Have things slowed down since the sales season ended as promised? Not really. Things are still crazy and some days being in an office of overworked women is wearing, but the mission remains the motivation.

Still, though the city exhausts me, there are days when I know why they call this the greatest city on earth. Being able to go out for street food and cupcakes before going to see the dress rehearsal of Saturday Night Live reminds me of the opportunities I have here, and how I need to learn to take advantage of them. Its not often I get to sit 5 feet from the SNL stage, as cameras are all around me and Rosario Dawson, running form skit to skit. This city moves fast, but there are plenty of times that I have to simply stop, and appreciate the awe-inspiring existence of it.

Exit

I have to leave the city now, she said,
Or dash my soul against my will instead.

I do not wish to have the quiet part of me
That once could rest (the part
That could just be) tossed
Aside and left somewhere
For dead.

Tonight it seems to me
That what some friends call energy
Is nothing more than a phenomenon of nature known as
"Incurable Whirling Disease."

Please, take me far from here, she said,
The buildings sting and echo
With the fumy cries of yellowjacket cars.

I took her hand in mine and said,
I'm thinking of a place now
Where I used to have to tell myself
Aloud,
Those are not clouds,
They're stars.

By Linford Detweiler

Merry New York Christmas

New York City Christmas- Rob Thomas

Call on your angels
Come down to the city
Crowd around the big tree
All you strangers who know me
Bring your compassion
Your understanding
Lord, how we need it
On this New York City Christmas

Yeah I'm sending you a merry New York Christmas
and a prayer for peace on earth within our time
Hear the sidewalk angels echo hallelujah
We understand more, now more than ever

So call on your angels
You're beaten and broken
It's time that we mended
So they don't fade with the season
Let our mercy be the gifts we lay
From Brooklyn and to Broadway
Celebrate each and every day
of this New York City Christmas

Yeah I'm sending you a merry New York Christmas
and a prayer for peace on earth within our time
Hear the sidewalk angels echo hallelujah
We understand more, now more than ever
Merry New York Christmas

Call on your angels
Come down to the city
Let's crowd around the big tree
All you strangers you know me
Bring your compassion
Bring your forgiveness
Lord how we need it
On this New York City Christmas

Yeah, I'm sending you a Merry New York Christmas
And a prayer for peace on Earth
It's not too late
Yeah the sidewalk angels echo hallelujah
We understand them
We understand them
Merry Christmas
Yes, a New York City Christmas

In Search of Greener Grass

It has been a long couple of months.

I spent the week anticipating a weekend with NO PLANS (no work, no travel, no guests) something I haven't had in 2 ½ months…I would drift off during the day just to think about what it would be like to wake up without an alarm or an agenda….sigh… it sounds so wonderful.

Turns out I get to come in and work the HCJ volunteer sale because Maureen has to go to a memorial service for her godfather. Contrary to the way it sounds, I am not bitter, because this is something I am quite capable of feeling empathy for…but I am a little disappointed.

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A couple of weeks ago at a GSV fundraiser in New Jersey one of my roommates asked me what a HandCrafting Justice sale is like. It's December, and it is the first time anyone besides Hannah has asked about what Sara and I do. Certainly part of the "indirect service" that I hadn't anticipated. Being, or at least feeling, discounted.

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I've had the realization that my exhaustion, though founded due to over-work etc, is mostly due to the fact that I have been lacking in "self-care" lately. I have tried, but the things I have been doing just don't seem to be cutting it. I can spend an entire evening on the couch, sleep a full 8 hours, and wake up the next day totally exhausted. I can't seem to re-energize.

So I am in the midst of developing a new self-care plan. More yoga, books and H₂0.

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My dad sent me an article from Outside magazine about Greg Mortenson, a man who founded the Central Asia Institute. This organization builds schools all around Central Asia, giving children, especially girls, the opportunity for an education they normally wouldn't be able to obtain. After reading, I went online to the links at the bottom of the article, and found myself thinking, "It would be great to be able to work for an organization like this…"

Wait. Hold it.

I DO work for an organization like this. I DO help to give opportunities to people who wouldn't otherwise be able to obtain them.

I was so disappointed with myself for losing sight of that.

I shared this feeling with one of my soul friends* and she told me something that had been told her that rocked her world, "The grass isn't greener on the other side, its greener where you water it." Shocking. It shouldn't be, but was.

Cultivate and it will grow. Cultivate where you are, not where you look towards being. Do this and the grass will be green where you are. Simple.

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* these are the friendships that I feel stem more from the soul than any outward shared experience, they are those people who you instantly feel connected with, even though you seem to not share anything with

Power of the People- SOA

“Non violence is not inaction... It is not for the timid or weak…Non violence is hard work. It is the willingness to sacrifice. It is the patience to win.”
-Cesar Chavez












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There is no place to start.

With an issue that has such deep roots, and a cause with so many different facets, there is no place to start.

I had no idea where to start this journey myself. Before leaving, I had no idea how to conceptualize what I was getting myself into or the way things were going to be once I got there. The School of the Americas is such an intense issue, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t see the argument the “other side” makes about the issue. But from what I saw, and from what I experienced…it was a simple issue with a simple starting point.

The vigil.
It started with the first name. It started with the name being read and the crowd lifting their crosses and saying in unison, “presente.” It continued for over 2 hours. For over two hours on Sunday morning I heard the names of those who have lost their lives due to the training that the SOA provides. Children, teens, adults, elderly, they found commonality in their death. With each and every name read, it started again, because each and every name had significance, just as each and every name before and after it had. And when the names stopped, when the litany ceased, it did not end. There will be more, there are more, for this, there may be a clear beginning, but there is no clear end.

The spirit.
It started in peace. From the moment I arrived I felt it: these were my people. I spent the weekend surrounded by people who believe in goodness. They did not travel from across the country to point out the presence of evil in the world, but to present the possibility of peace. I stood in mass on Saturday evening with thousands of other people, and felt the spirit. These people were not here to get their weekend Mass cards punched, they were there because they are Catholic for the same reasons I am. Because they believe in goodness, they believe in peace, but mostly because they believe in humanity. And this, it began in peace, but it continued forth in hope.

The reality.
It started with the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation. It started with spreading the ideal of democracy further into our world. I understand the ideals under which it began, and under which it theoretically operates today. However it is simple: The ideals for which it theoretically teaches aside, many of the graduates of the SOA have gone forward to commit some of the worst offenses to humans rights in our lifetimes. The fact is that the skills that they are learning are aiding them in violating our human race. Where it started may be unclear, but where it ends is pretty clear to me…it ends with two hours worth of names of those who have lost their lives in the name of “security cooperation.” It begins in a place where we teach Latin American soldiers warfare, and ends with the loss of lives, over and over again.

But the real question is. When does it end?

The fact is I could go on for days. But that’s the idea. In the big picture, this may be about putting an end to the SOA. But for me, this is about a place to start. I didn’t sit in a van for 40 hours because it was the cool thing to do, or because I thought it would be nice to get out of the city. I did it because I believe in it.

And I saw 20,000 other people who believe in it too.

And I heard them chanting, “Ain’t no power like the power of people, because the power of people don’t stop!”

And the fact is, its true.

And the fact is, there is hope.

Non-violence is more than hippie idealism.
It is compassion.
It is love.
It is understanding.
It is solidarity.

Compassion. Love. Understanding. Solidarity.

I think that’s it. That is where to start.

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“When all people are free to ask why, to say I love you, to say no; when everyone is cared for, sheltered, fed; when we are all able to live where we want and leave when we wish; then we will know peace.”
-Jesse M. Kahn