The Natural Order April 29, 2011

I woke up early one morning and sat outside the balcony, curled up in a blanket. All of nature’s elements were in place – the waves were crashing, the wind was blowing, the leaves were rustling and the sun was slowly making its way up in the sky. Everything behaving the way as they ought to; the natural order of things.

Shivering, I asked God in my noisy head, so what is this “natural me” I see so little of? There are so many distractions and choices and expectations and conventions and benchmarks and hurts and superficialities and regrets in my life that I no longer know who I am anymore. I began resenting all the times I’ve been told to hold back, behave differently, “give face”, “let things be” in the name of “maintaining the status quo” (the stupidest term ever invented – life never, ever stays the same).

“Why is the human race so full of bullshit? Why can’t people just be?” I ranted internally to Him.

“Why can’t you just be?” came the wise reply.

And then, I fell asleep.

Easter Reflection: Permit Your Pain to Become the Pain April 23, 2011

Your pain, deep as it is, is connected with specific circumstances. You do not suffer in the abstract. You suffer because someone hurts you at a specific time and in a specific place. Your feelings of rejection, abandonment and uselessness are rooted in the most concrete events. In this way all suffering is unique. This is eminently true of the suffering of Jesus. His disciples left him, Pilate condemned him, Roman soldiers tortured and crucified him.

Still, as long as you keep pointing to the specifics, you will miss the full meaning of your pain. You will deceive yourself into believing that if the people, circumstances, and events had been different, your pain would not exist. This might be partly true, but the deeper truth is that the situation which brought about your pain was simply the form in which you came in touch with the human condition of suffering. Your pain is the concrete way in which you participate in the pain of humanity.

Paradoxically, therefore, healing means moving from your pain to the pain. When you keep focusing on the specific circumstances of your pain, you easily become angry, resentful, and even vindictive. You are inclined to do something about the externals of your pain in order to relieve it; this explains why you often seek revenge. But real healing comes from realizing that your own particular pain is a share in humanity’s pain. That realization allows you to forgive your enemies and enter into a truly compassionate life. That is the way of Jesus, who prayed on the cross: “Father forgive them; they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23: 34). Jesus’ suffering, concrete as it was, was the suffering of all humanity. His pain was the pain.

Every time you can shift your attention away from the external situation that caused your pain and focus on the pain of humanity in which you participate, your suffering becomes easier to bear. It becomes a “light burden” and an “easy yoke” (Matthew 11:30). Once you discover that you are called to live in solidarity with the hungry, the homeless, the prisoners, the refugees, the sick, and the dying, your very personal pain begins to be converted into the pain and you find new strength to live it. Herein lies the hope of all Christians.

– Henri Nouwen

Snow Covered Hills April 20, 2011

I can understand why Stevie Nicks was so inspired to write this song while at a ski lodge in Aspen. I love snow.

“I took my love and I took it down, which really meant I took my ego and I took it off the mantle. That trophy ego that we all have, you know, and I took that ego down and decided was it selfish to walk away?  And I think that I understood that somewhere I felt something big coming…in other words, I stood back and I saw the future.”  

LANDSLIDE

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
Till the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Mmm, mmm, mmm

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older and I’m getting older too

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older and I’m getting older too
Oh, I’m getting older too

Awh, take my love, take it down
Awh, climb a mountain and turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide bring it down

And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide bring it down
Oh, the landslide bring it down

Wet Thoughts April 11, 2011

Today, I was five years old again with a too big raincoat, splashing puddles with my black boots and feeling tiny between the cedar trees over hundreds of years old. When I looked up towards these grand woody dames, I saw the silver raindrops fall gracefully down like forest fairies daintily descending on my face.

I used to run out in the rain barefoot as a little girl and I loved the feel of the rain dribbling down my fingers, as if the water came from me. I would pretend I was the rain princess, bringing life to the parched lands and making flowers and trees grow again. I would spin around and around, imagining that the faster I spun, the more rain there would be, though of course, I later found out people have little control over what happens in the sky, or even on the ground for that matter.

I believe the rain are like the earth’s tears washing away the tears that humans have inflicted upon each other. I believe the rivers collect rainy tears and human tears together and the sea spins them into dancing waves that weave in and out on the land. Crying and raining happen in cycles, like with everything else in life.