What would a blog post (finally) by me be without a little Hebrew, a sort-of lesson, and a lot of love? So here goes.
As these next few months hit us in all their challenging change, how do we react to all that has happened in Korea, and all that is to be different outside?
Korea has been a place where we have all gotten the chance to grow. To love freely. To be nurtured in very different ways. To nurture in our own special ways. None of us expected anything quite like this, and each silently believe no one outside of it will ever understand.
And now we come to this time of separation. Some have already left, some are getting ready to leave, and some are staying. Though there will be pockets and groups of us all over the world, the rupture of this group will be heavily grieved. And is being grieved already.
For me, I have felt known.
It’s scary to leave that.
I’ve been refined by the hand of God, through kindred spirits.
It’s terrifying to leave them.
For me, this time ahead seems a barren wasteland.
A desert.
A wilderness.
מדבר
(midbar)
Time for a lesson. Time for some Hebrew.
There are several words that can be made from the three consonants DBR (דבר). Desert. Holy of Holies. Sheepfold.
The place where God brings his flock. So, somewhere he wants us to be. Umm…Okay?
When the M (מ) is added to those three, it makes the word “wilderness”. It also means “speaking” or “words”. So the wilderness, a place where God brings his people, is the place of speaking. Follow?
Many times throughout the Bible, God’s people were in this place of speaking. Abraham, the father of our faith, lived and was promised everything in the desert. Moses spent 40 years walking in the wilderness with the children of God, and God spoke unto Moses. David fled to the wasteland for 40 days to escape the wrath of Saul, and heard God as he cried out in psalm. Jesus was led there by the Spirit, after his baptism, and the very Word of God flowed out of his mouth to rebuke the devil. If I want to hear God speak, I should go to the desert. But why there?
Because in this place of desolation, and temperatures so extreme I don’t think even Tay could handle it, I would not survive except by a direct intervention of God. There is nowhere else to turn, and this is when God speaks.
Because I’m finally in a place to realize that He provided everything in the Land of Milk and Honey. A place where I realize the danger that comes if I stay in that land too long, “in houses I didn’t build” - in an apartment I didn’t pay for, “drinking from wells I didn’t dig” – enjoying a community I didn’t bring together, or “eating crops that I didn’t sow” – receiving a paycheck I now think I hardly worked for, I will say “my hand has done this, and I will forget the Lord my God who brought me through the vast and terrible desert”.
Because whether desert or honey, God’s hand is always the one that holds everything I need.
Jesus takes it deeper… as he always does.
Blessed are the poor in spirit… blessed are those who mourn… blessed are the meek…blessed are the thirsty…hungry…persecuted…
Sound familiar? Sounds like a freaking desert. When I’m living in an emotional, spiritual, relational wilderness – that is when I am most ready to hear God speaking because I have nowhere else to turn.
These next months I know this is where I will be. When all I want is to hear Anna singing “cheer up darlin’”, when I want to have a Cha conversation with Cha… or Tay, when I want to speak Hebrew on the back of Kel’s scooter, when I don’t think I can go another morning without a cup of Tim Horton’s with Whit in our apartment, when I want to listen to “Sweet Lorraine” and watch Kels crump to it, when I want to sit across from Katie on the teeter-totter and feel the same.
When all I want to do is stand there in my pitiful misery and beg God to get me out of this stupid, ugly, lonely wilderness.
But why is this a blessing?
Because in the pain and sorrow of that moment I stand face to face with God – AND THAT IS A BLESSING. I cry out to him from the innermost desperation of my soul – AND THAT IS A BLESSING. And in that place of stretching wasteland, where I cannot take one more step unless God guides it, he speaks – AND THAT IS A BLESSING.
So why fear this place where God wants me to be? He blesses my desire to stay there. And so I will face leaving you. Leaving us. Leaving all of this. Because I would rather be blessed in my wilderness than to live in a land flowing with milk and honey and forget that God provides.
My desire for all of us, is that as we face the wilderness of life after Korea-as-we-have-known-it, that we would stand in that wasteland and not ask God to bring us back to that big bed with room for 8, but that we would ask Him where in this vast and terrible desert we are going to come face to face with Him.
And feel blessed.
Blessed because of the time we have had, blessed for what God will say to us in this wilderness, and blessed for the next land of milk and honey that he is leading us to.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The Art of Taming
I still remember the very first thing I tried to tame. A snowy white rabbit had been snatched from the jaws of our normally sedate golden retriever at the last moment, and we suddenly found ourselves with a new pet. But rabbits are born a wild spirit of the meadows and the hills, and our poor new friend was none too thrilled by her new situation in life. I was not to be deterred, and therefore set about taming the beast with a zest and enthusiasm not to be matched. Needless to say, the rabbit died of a heart attack less than 24 hours later. In retrospect, I may have come on a little strong.
In the years that followed, I honed my taming techniques on a multitude of subjects - from goldfish, to frogs, to rabbits, to dogs, to my ornery younger brother, to my beautiful pony - all of which sported varying levels of success. But with each attempt, I became more aware of one truth: the things you tame have an odd and rather alarming inclination:
they tend to tame you right back.
One of my very favorite books is Antoine de St-Exupery's The Little Prince. It’s the tale of a little alien prince who is wandering the earth on a "quest" of sorts to try to discover: 1) What makes something important and 2) Where he belongs. I could tell you a lot of things about this story. I could tell you about the 44 sunsets you can see in one day, or the danger of baobab trees that are not carefully weeded and pruned while they’re small. I could tell you what selfish roses say when they needn’t say anything at all, or about snakes who offer beautiful things at terrible costs. But mostly, I want to tell you about a fox.
There’s nothing special about this fox, except that the little prince is lonely the day their paths crossed, so he asks the animal to come and play with him.
"I cannot play with you" the fox responds, "I am not tamed." The prince asks what he means by such a word and, after some pressing, the fox finally responds: "It is an act too often neglected. It means 'to establish ties'. To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world . . ."
The prince is intrigued by the concept, but when the fox asks to be tamed, the little prince declines: "I want to, very much. But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."
The fox is quick in his response: "One only understands the things one tames."
The prince agrees to try, and the fox explains that it takes time to tame something. One must sit very quietly - and not too closely - and wait. Each day, as the tie grows stronger, the fox will allow the prince to move just a little closer.
“And so the prince tamed the fox.”
As the prince had forewarned, his time with the fox could not last forever. When the day for their farewell comes, the fox begins to cry, which aggravates the child. It had been the fox who had asked to be tamed. It had been the fox who had desired the bond. The fox acknowledges this through his tears, and holds that he does not regret the bond, or the pain to which it led. “One runs the risk of weeping, when one allows himself to be tamed.”As the prince is leaving, the fox gives him a gift: the greatest truth he knows, the one most men had forgotten: “It is the time you waste on something that makes it important. You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”
That line, the one about the weeping, has haunted me since high-school. It’s come to mind countless times, at those moments that serve as crossroads: “Will you reach out, even though there are only a few months left, and there’s really no point anyway?” “Will you kiss him, even though you can’t imagine it actually working out?” “Will you pick up the phone, even though you know it will lead to questions you don’t want to answer?” You run the risk of weeping, when you allow yourself to be tamed. But like the fox said, it’s only through being tamed that the world holds meaning. It’s only through the bonds shared and created that color exists at all. Its memories, and lessons learned, and lives lived together – for a little while – that make it all worth it.
The Church is often compared to a Body, and rightly so. We are the hands and the feet of Christ, and are called to act accordingly. But sometimes I think we're a little like the Brain, too. And if the Church is the Brain, then I think maybe we're each a neuron. A tiny, insignificant little neuron. Psych 101 has gotten a little fuzzy in my post-college days, but I'm pretty sure neurons can't do much on their own. They're good for one thing: connecting themselves to other neurons. But that one thing makes all the difference in the world. When neurons establish ties between each other, they create neuron paths. And neuron paths are the key to each action the Body takes. As the number of neuron connections increase, the Body experiences greater freedom. It's legs move faster. It's arms reach further. It's language becomes more expressive and eloquent. It's instincts become honed, its reflexes are sharpened, and the Body becomes a force to be reckoned with. I'm pretty sure that's what Christ intended for His Church. I'm pretty sure that's what we're here to do: establish ties.
It’s no secret that Korea hasn’t been easy for me. It hasn’t been easy for any of us. There have been truths faced. Fears recognized. Risks taken. Too much Kimchi eaten. And also really big, really gross spiders in the summertime. Each day, we – both the fox and the prince – have tamed each other just a little bit more. We’ve sat a little closer, and looked forward to each other’s presence with a little more joy (except for the days when we just didn’t want to touch at all). We’ve established bonds, and now we’ve gone beyond the risk and entered into the reality of tears. Wednesday night, as I looked around 1717, the words of the fox came to mind once again. “One runs the risk of weeping, when one allows himself to be tamed.” I thought: It was so much easier when I didn’t need people. It was so much easier when I didn’t need THESE people. It’s so much easier when I’m the prince, rather than the fox. It hurts like hell when you’re the one doing the staying. But the fox is right. The weeping is worth it, because of the colors. Because never, in our whole lives, will we hear “Sweet Lorraine” without remembering. Never will we listen to someone play the uke, ride a scooter, dance to Passion Pit, or drink bad beer, without remembering. And the colors will make up for all the weeping.
The fox said one more thing. Something that I’ve always liked, but which has weighed heavily on my spirit this week. A charge. A calling. A reckoning:
“You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”
We have a responsibility to each other now. You can’t tame or be tamed without answering to that bond, in some way or another, until the end of time. Ties can’t just be severed, at least not without leaving a wound that will never really close. And for us, that’s just not an option.
Our lives will change dramatically in the next few months. Both for the princes and for the foxes. But one truth remains: We have a responsibility to each other. We have tamed and been tamed, and that means a little weeping, a lot of colors, and a final charge:
Don’t even try to forget.
In the years that followed, I honed my taming techniques on a multitude of subjects - from goldfish, to frogs, to rabbits, to dogs, to my ornery younger brother, to my beautiful pony - all of which sported varying levels of success. But with each attempt, I became more aware of one truth: the things you tame have an odd and rather alarming inclination:
they tend to tame you right back.
One of my very favorite books is Antoine de St-Exupery's The Little Prince. It’s the tale of a little alien prince who is wandering the earth on a "quest" of sorts to try to discover: 1) What makes something important and 2) Where he belongs. I could tell you a lot of things about this story. I could tell you about the 44 sunsets you can see in one day, or the danger of baobab trees that are not carefully weeded and pruned while they’re small. I could tell you what selfish roses say when they needn’t say anything at all, or about snakes who offer beautiful things at terrible costs. But mostly, I want to tell you about a fox.
There’s nothing special about this fox, except that the little prince is lonely the day their paths crossed, so he asks the animal to come and play with him.
"I cannot play with you" the fox responds, "I am not tamed." The prince asks what he means by such a word and, after some pressing, the fox finally responds: "It is an act too often neglected. It means 'to establish ties'. To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world . . ."
The prince is intrigued by the concept, but when the fox asks to be tamed, the little prince declines: "I want to, very much. But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."
The fox is quick in his response: "One only understands the things one tames."
The prince agrees to try, and the fox explains that it takes time to tame something. One must sit very quietly - and not too closely - and wait. Each day, as the tie grows stronger, the fox will allow the prince to move just a little closer.
“And so the prince tamed the fox.”
As the prince had forewarned, his time with the fox could not last forever. When the day for their farewell comes, the fox begins to cry, which aggravates the child. It had been the fox who had asked to be tamed. It had been the fox who had desired the bond. The fox acknowledges this through his tears, and holds that he does not regret the bond, or the pain to which it led. “One runs the risk of weeping, when one allows himself to be tamed.”As the prince is leaving, the fox gives him a gift: the greatest truth he knows, the one most men had forgotten: “It is the time you waste on something that makes it important. You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”
That line, the one about the weeping, has haunted me since high-school. It’s come to mind countless times, at those moments that serve as crossroads: “Will you reach out, even though there are only a few months left, and there’s really no point anyway?” “Will you kiss him, even though you can’t imagine it actually working out?” “Will you pick up the phone, even though you know it will lead to questions you don’t want to answer?” You run the risk of weeping, when you allow yourself to be tamed. But like the fox said, it’s only through being tamed that the world holds meaning. It’s only through the bonds shared and created that color exists at all. Its memories, and lessons learned, and lives lived together – for a little while – that make it all worth it.
The Church is often compared to a Body, and rightly so. We are the hands and the feet of Christ, and are called to act accordingly. But sometimes I think we're a little like the Brain, too. And if the Church is the Brain, then I think maybe we're each a neuron. A tiny, insignificant little neuron. Psych 101 has gotten a little fuzzy in my post-college days, but I'm pretty sure neurons can't do much on their own. They're good for one thing: connecting themselves to other neurons. But that one thing makes all the difference in the world. When neurons establish ties between each other, they create neuron paths. And neuron paths are the key to each action the Body takes. As the number of neuron connections increase, the Body experiences greater freedom. It's legs move faster. It's arms reach further. It's language becomes more expressive and eloquent. It's instincts become honed, its reflexes are sharpened, and the Body becomes a force to be reckoned with. I'm pretty sure that's what Christ intended for His Church. I'm pretty sure that's what we're here to do: establish ties.
It’s no secret that Korea hasn’t been easy for me. It hasn’t been easy for any of us. There have been truths faced. Fears recognized. Risks taken. Too much Kimchi eaten. And also really big, really gross spiders in the summertime. Each day, we – both the fox and the prince – have tamed each other just a little bit more. We’ve sat a little closer, and looked forward to each other’s presence with a little more joy (except for the days when we just didn’t want to touch at all). We’ve established bonds, and now we’ve gone beyond the risk and entered into the reality of tears. Wednesday night, as I looked around 1717, the words of the fox came to mind once again. “One runs the risk of weeping, when one allows himself to be tamed.” I thought: It was so much easier when I didn’t need people. It was so much easier when I didn’t need THESE people. It’s so much easier when I’m the prince, rather than the fox. It hurts like hell when you’re the one doing the staying. But the fox is right. The weeping is worth it, because of the colors. Because never, in our whole lives, will we hear “Sweet Lorraine” without remembering. Never will we listen to someone play the uke, ride a scooter, dance to Passion Pit, or drink bad beer, without remembering. And the colors will make up for all the weeping.
The fox said one more thing. Something that I’ve always liked, but which has weighed heavily on my spirit this week. A charge. A calling. A reckoning:
“You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”
We have a responsibility to each other now. You can’t tame or be tamed without answering to that bond, in some way or another, until the end of time. Ties can’t just be severed, at least not without leaving a wound that will never really close. And for us, that’s just not an option.
Our lives will change dramatically in the next few months. Both for the princes and for the foxes. But one truth remains: We have a responsibility to each other. We have tamed and been tamed, and that means a little weeping, a lot of colors, and a final charge:
Don’t even try to forget.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Pay. It. Forward.
Pay.It.Forward.
Simple.
My name is Katie, and these are my friends. Between ten - fifteen months ago, we broke away from the regular track and moved to a place with Seoul... We were fed up racing through life without direction.
So we should make a list of everything we want most in life and decide to go after it.
We should leave with a promise, that anytime we accomplish something on our list, we should help a stranger do something on theirs. Everyone has a remarkable story to tell and to live.
...PAY IT FORWARD.
for some video entertainment:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWJKX9NIiqc
and for those of us that need the lyrics:
http://www.cowboylyrics.com/lyrics/lady-antebellum/i-run-to-you-24554.html
lovin. always.
newms
Simple.
My name is Katie, and these are my friends. Between ten - fifteen months ago, we broke away from the regular track and moved to a place with Seoul... We were fed up racing through life without direction.
So we should make a list of everything we want most in life and decide to go after it.
We should leave with a promise, that anytime we accomplish something on our list, we should help a stranger do something on theirs. Everyone has a remarkable story to tell and to live.
...PAY IT FORWARD.
for some video entertainment:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWJKX9NIiqc
and for those of us that need the lyrics:
http://www.cowboylyrics.com/lyrics/lady-antebellum/i-run-to-you-24554.html
lovin. always.
newms
Thursday, June 10, 2010
To Be Human
Back in November, my sister Beth was on her way to get her scuba certification off the coast of Mozambique. In order to complete the course, she had to have a doctor sign off on a standard medical form, pronouncing her fit for…whatever it is you do while scuba diving. After an absurdly long wait in the patient’s room, even by African standards, the doctor struts in and asks her what’s wrong. She explains she’s perfectly healthy, and really just needs a report to prove it. He looks at her from under his glasses and grunts: “I’ll be the judge of that.” After a few tests and procedures, he hands her a tube to breathe into. She takes a deep breath and puffs. “400. Not good enough. To be human you have to reach 500.” She tries again, taking a deeper breath and really giving it all she’s got. “400. If you want to be a human, you have to get to 500. Try one more time.” She reasoned, if not only her scuba certification, but also her very identity as a member of the human race depended on this next puff of air, she better at least stand up. Deep breath. Practice blow. Deeper breath…and…WHHHOOOOOO….. “Still 400. Will you have oxygen for scuba diving?” “Of course.” “Oh. Ok. You’re fine.” He stamps the word “approved” on her form and sends her on her way. Maybe it takes a little more than the inability to make a little arrow reach the number “500” on a breathalyzer to strip one of his or her place in the human race.
I spend a lot of time – perhaps an inordinate amount of time – trying to grasp what it means to be human. Because, see, it doesn’t come all that naturally to me. I’ve never been as good at being human as others are (yes, it is a competition. It’s always a competition). Some people are naturals. Some of us struggle. I’ve spent the past two work days watching an absurd number of Mr. Bean episodes, and I can’t help feeling some empathy for the poor guy. And a little for me, too. Because I’m kind of like that. Kind of like him. You know that natural social translator/filter you people have? I have, like, half of one. It’s there – just not all the way. So I spend a lot of time watching. Watching, and gathering information. That’s how I learn about people, and about the ways you do or do not behave in social settings. It’s trial and error, really. But I can kind of keep it a secret. If I’m careful, I can be like everyone else for a little while. Blend in. Which is handy if you don’t want to make a scene. As I get to know people, I start to feel the freedom to, you know, not fit in. One of the first things I said to Mindy the week she arrived in Korea was: “Thank God you’re here! I’m so tired of pretending to be NORMAL!” To which she laughed, and replied: “Seriously? There’s no way you could have pulled that off for 6 months. Haven’t they caught on yet?” I think maybe some of them had.
I noticed recently that one of my all-time favorite books (The Little Prince) and one of my all-time favorite movies (Martian Child) revolve around a similar theme. Both deal with children who come from (or think they come from) a different planet. They’ve come to earth to try to discover what it means to be human. It fascinates me: humanity. Humans can be so inspiring – so heroic, noble, intelligent, and selfless. But then you see their other side. A side that is willing to hurt others, maliciously. A side which can be cruel, vile, vulgar, and petty. And then I start thinking: Who wants to be human anyway?” It’s at this point that I have to delve back into what I’ve learned from all my watching and gathering, and try to figure out what exactly it means – the whole human thing.
There are lots of answers. The Little Prince claims it has everything to do with learning to waste your time on the right flowers – or, you know, the right people. The Martian Child would say humanity comes out of our ability to belong, one to another - to reach across a senseless universe and love each other. And then there are other sources. The show Heroes once told me that the thing that separates Man from the beasts is his ability to remember, and to learn and grow from those experiences (which would be GREAT news for my humanness). CS Lewis uses his novels to suggest it is man’s ability to reason – to adhere to logic – that sets him apart. Obviously, he would register as a T on the Myers-Briggs scale. The Feelers reading this might prefer the theory that it is compassion that makes us human. Humans are the only creatures to feel compassion – to care outside of themselves, and for reasons unattached to survival instincts. Those who have watched a herd of horses gather around one of their own as he stands at the pasture gate, screaming for three straight days after his friend was sold to a new owner, may have different opinions. To long, to grieve, and to share another’s burden – these are not reserved only for Man and his offspring. But perhaps that is simply empathy, or even sympathy, and compassion means something more?
And then there’s a new one I read a week or two ago. I really like this one. It’s in the introduction to Three Cups of Tea, and David Relin is relating a journalist’s duty to remain neutral. Uninvolved. Which Relin had no problem adhering to until he met Mr. Mortenson. Suddenly, he couldn’t just state the facts. He found himself caught up in the story itself. “Sometimes, to be human, you have to choose sides.” That was a new one. Humans have the ability to choose sides. To think outside of themselves, to adopt a cause. To choose to stand for one thing, while abandoning another entirely. It has nothing to do with the desire to survive, and everything to do with the belief that some things are worth dying for. (Or, you know, living for.) True, a mother bear will give her life for her young. A wolf will die protecting the territory he calls his own. But this is more than that. Humans choose sides on matters that have nothing to do with themselves. They choose to fight illiteracy. They give themselves to the cause of fighting abortion, or raising awareness for AIDS in Africa, or the plight of our failing environment. They have passion, they have opinions, and they’ve taken sides. Maybe they believe in the advancement of artificial intelligent life. Or maybe they’ve chosen to dedicate their lives to translating an ancient Babylonian text to modern English. From what I can tell it doesn’t matter, at least to your humanness, what side you choose. You can choose a side I don’t agree with. Muslims may sacrifice their lives for a Jihad I don’t find necessary. Darwinian scientists may foreswear family, friends, and self for a chance to discover a missing link I don’t believe exists. It’s not the cause itself that makes you human. It’s the fact that you have one. Because sometimes, to be human, you have to choose sides.
I stopped doing that when I moved to Korea. I stopped taking sides. When you’re an all-or-nothing kind of girl, it comes naturally. But I turned it off. I just don’t…care anymore. And it’s killing me. So perhaps this humanness – this need to choose sides – really does define our species. Perhaps it exemplifies all the other reasons, ties them all together. Maybe it’s an example of our compassion paired with our ability to reason. Maybe it’s the flower on which we choose to waste our time, and the path we take to feeling like we belong to someone or to something. Maybe that’s what it means to be human.
Well, that, and your ability to blow a 500. (if you know what I mean...and I think you do)
I spend a lot of time – perhaps an inordinate amount of time – trying to grasp what it means to be human. Because, see, it doesn’t come all that naturally to me. I’ve never been as good at being human as others are (yes, it is a competition. It’s always a competition). Some people are naturals. Some of us struggle. I’ve spent the past two work days watching an absurd number of Mr. Bean episodes, and I can’t help feeling some empathy for the poor guy. And a little for me, too. Because I’m kind of like that. Kind of like him. You know that natural social translator/filter you people have? I have, like, half of one. It’s there – just not all the way. So I spend a lot of time watching. Watching, and gathering information. That’s how I learn about people, and about the ways you do or do not behave in social settings. It’s trial and error, really. But I can kind of keep it a secret. If I’m careful, I can be like everyone else for a little while. Blend in. Which is handy if you don’t want to make a scene. As I get to know people, I start to feel the freedom to, you know, not fit in. One of the first things I said to Mindy the week she arrived in Korea was: “Thank God you’re here! I’m so tired of pretending to be NORMAL!” To which she laughed, and replied: “Seriously? There’s no way you could have pulled that off for 6 months. Haven’t they caught on yet?” I think maybe some of them had.
I noticed recently that one of my all-time favorite books (The Little Prince) and one of my all-time favorite movies (Martian Child) revolve around a similar theme. Both deal with children who come from (or think they come from) a different planet. They’ve come to earth to try to discover what it means to be human. It fascinates me: humanity. Humans can be so inspiring – so heroic, noble, intelligent, and selfless. But then you see their other side. A side that is willing to hurt others, maliciously. A side which can be cruel, vile, vulgar, and petty. And then I start thinking: Who wants to be human anyway?” It’s at this point that I have to delve back into what I’ve learned from all my watching and gathering, and try to figure out what exactly it means – the whole human thing.
There are lots of answers. The Little Prince claims it has everything to do with learning to waste your time on the right flowers – or, you know, the right people. The Martian Child would say humanity comes out of our ability to belong, one to another - to reach across a senseless universe and love each other. And then there are other sources. The show Heroes once told me that the thing that separates Man from the beasts is his ability to remember, and to learn and grow from those experiences (which would be GREAT news for my humanness). CS Lewis uses his novels to suggest it is man’s ability to reason – to adhere to logic – that sets him apart. Obviously, he would register as a T on the Myers-Briggs scale. The Feelers reading this might prefer the theory that it is compassion that makes us human. Humans are the only creatures to feel compassion – to care outside of themselves, and for reasons unattached to survival instincts. Those who have watched a herd of horses gather around one of their own as he stands at the pasture gate, screaming for three straight days after his friend was sold to a new owner, may have different opinions. To long, to grieve, and to share another’s burden – these are not reserved only for Man and his offspring. But perhaps that is simply empathy, or even sympathy, and compassion means something more?
And then there’s a new one I read a week or two ago. I really like this one. It’s in the introduction to Three Cups of Tea, and David Relin is relating a journalist’s duty to remain neutral. Uninvolved. Which Relin had no problem adhering to until he met Mr. Mortenson. Suddenly, he couldn’t just state the facts. He found himself caught up in the story itself. “Sometimes, to be human, you have to choose sides.” That was a new one. Humans have the ability to choose sides. To think outside of themselves, to adopt a cause. To choose to stand for one thing, while abandoning another entirely. It has nothing to do with the desire to survive, and everything to do with the belief that some things are worth dying for. (Or, you know, living for.) True, a mother bear will give her life for her young. A wolf will die protecting the territory he calls his own. But this is more than that. Humans choose sides on matters that have nothing to do with themselves. They choose to fight illiteracy. They give themselves to the cause of fighting abortion, or raising awareness for AIDS in Africa, or the plight of our failing environment. They have passion, they have opinions, and they’ve taken sides. Maybe they believe in the advancement of artificial intelligent life. Or maybe they’ve chosen to dedicate their lives to translating an ancient Babylonian text to modern English. From what I can tell it doesn’t matter, at least to your humanness, what side you choose. You can choose a side I don’t agree with. Muslims may sacrifice their lives for a Jihad I don’t find necessary. Darwinian scientists may foreswear family, friends, and self for a chance to discover a missing link I don’t believe exists. It’s not the cause itself that makes you human. It’s the fact that you have one. Because sometimes, to be human, you have to choose sides.
I stopped doing that when I moved to Korea. I stopped taking sides. When you’re an all-or-nothing kind of girl, it comes naturally. But I turned it off. I just don’t…care anymore. And it’s killing me. So perhaps this humanness – this need to choose sides – really does define our species. Perhaps it exemplifies all the other reasons, ties them all together. Maybe it’s an example of our compassion paired with our ability to reason. Maybe it’s the flower on which we choose to waste our time, and the path we take to feeling like we belong to someone or to something. Maybe that’s what it means to be human.
Well, that, and your ability to blow a 500. (if you know what I mean...and I think you do)
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
water, part 1
life
like this creek, i think
not knowing, necessarily,
from where it comes or where it goes,
but knowing, unassumingly, that it indeed is.
digging, i feel,
not knowing, necessarily, where you are going
but trying to trust, unassumingly,
that i indeed, because you are, am.
the digging is quite painful some days
but the creek can live in the slow paces silence of things
so maybe i can rest in its waters awhile
learn from its example
let the unrushed current calm the frenzy, the not knowing.
it is only the water which moves
yet the rocks seem quite content to embrace
the steady cleansing and
the water doesn't appear hurried
as it makes the rough parts
smooth.
one day, i suspect,
the waters will rise and things will be different -
for a season -
but these days, i know,
the water is unrushed.
like this creek, i think
not knowing, necessarily,
from where it comes or where it goes,
but knowing, unassumingly, that it indeed is.
digging, i feel,
not knowing, necessarily, where you are going
but trying to trust, unassumingly,
that i indeed, because you are, am.
the digging is quite painful some days
but the creek can live in the slow paces silence of things
so maybe i can rest in its waters awhile
learn from its example
let the unrushed current calm the frenzy, the not knowing.
it is only the water which moves
yet the rocks seem quite content to embrace
the steady cleansing and
the water doesn't appear hurried
as it makes the rough parts
smooth.
one day, i suspect,
the waters will rise and things will be different -
for a season -
but these days, i know,
the water is unrushed.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
love who you love.
in the words of Rascal Flatts, this fits us perfectly.lovin u.
I should have stolen every moment
Now there's a page
With not enough on it
Where we belong
I guess i'll never understand it
Why do we take it all for granted
Until it's gone
'Cause then it's gone
Love who you love
With all that you have
And don't waste the time
That flies so fast
Love who you love
And say that you do
Hold on as tight as they'll let you
Love who you love
Give all you've got
Like it's your last day
Your heart and soul
Before it's too late
And pull them in so close
Enough that they can feel it
With every single breath that
You're breathing
Breathe it in again and again
Love who you love
With all that you have
And don't waste the time
That flies so fast
Love who you love
And say that you do
Hold on as tight as they'll let you
Love who you love
I should have stolen every moment
Now there's a page
With not enough on it
Where we belong
I guess i'll never understand it
Why do we take it all for granted
Until it's gone
'Cause then it's gone
Love who you love
With all that you have
And don't waste the time
That flies so fast
Love who you love
And say that you do
Hold on as tight as they'll let you
Love who you love
Give all you've got
Like it's your last day
Your heart and soul
Before it's too late
And pull them in so close
Enough that they can feel it
With every single breath that
You're breathing
Breathe it in again and again
Love who you love
With all that you have
And don't waste the time
That flies so fast
Love who you love
And say that you do
Hold on as tight as they'll let you
Love who you love
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Hebrews 12:1-11
(paraphrased)
Therefore, the Soko gang also, since we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race in Korea that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despisting the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Jesus who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest the gang become weary and discouranged in your souls. The gang has not yet resisted to bloodshed, stiving against sin.
Gang, do not despise the chastening of Me, nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by Me; for whom I love I chasten, and scourge every one whom I recieve.
If you endure chastening, I deal with you as sons, for what son is there whom a father does not chasten? But if you are without chastening, or which all have become partakers, then you are illegitimate and not sons. Furthermore, we have had human fathers (santa) who corrected us, and we did pay them respect. Shall we not much more readily be in subjection to the Father of Spirits and live?
For our fathers (santa) have indeed for a few days chastened us as seemed best to them, but He for our profit, that we may be partakers of His holiness. NOw, no chastening seems to be joyful, for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yeilds the peacable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.
Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and teh feeble knees, and make them paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed.
love.newms.
(paraphrased)
Therefore, the Soko gang also, since we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race in Korea that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despisting the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Jesus who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest the gang become weary and discouranged in your souls. The gang has not yet resisted to bloodshed, stiving against sin.
Gang, do not despise the chastening of Me, nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by Me; for whom I love I chasten, and scourge every one whom I recieve.
If you endure chastening, I deal with you as sons, for what son is there whom a father does not chasten? But if you are without chastening, or which all have become partakers, then you are illegitimate and not sons. Furthermore, we have had human fathers (santa) who corrected us, and we did pay them respect. Shall we not much more readily be in subjection to the Father of Spirits and live?
For our fathers (santa) have indeed for a few days chastened us as seemed best to them, but He for our profit, that we may be partakers of His holiness. NOw, no chastening seems to be joyful, for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yeilds the peacable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.
Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and teh feeble knees, and make them paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed.
love.newms.
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