Packing, as usual.

I remember starting my blog for my trip to India with a short post about packing. I wrote about how it didn’t feel real yet and I still hadn’t started packing two days before. It seems two years later, I’m right back in that same spot, two days away from another trip and not even pretending to think about packing. Looking back, I was so excited for India. I can still remember all the anticipation of the unknown. I had no idea what I was getting into and I love that feeling. This time around I’ve been so caught up in the bureaucratic details of paperwork, visas, housing, and budgets, I haven’t had any time to get excited. Until now. So here are the simplest things that remind me how much I have to look forward to:

-Airports: I love the energy of people coming and leaving home, work, and vacation. I love the people you meet and have random conversations with. I love that everyone is temporarily connected by a feeling of transition.

-Airplanes: I love packing my little bag with everything I can possibly imagine I might need for 8 hours. I love take-off and watching the city shrink below me. I love the fact that I am forced to set aside time to think and rest and watch movies or read or write. I love tiny travel sized ice cream and that I can use flights as an excuse to buy a five dollar magazine.

-The Tube: I LOVE PUBLIC TRANSPORT. I love the smell of the tube and the blast of warm wind that precedes and follows each train. I love people watching on the tube and wondering where they’re going.

-School: It is well known that I am a dork and I love school. I’m so ready to have a routine again that challenges me intellectually, to be around other students, to feel accomplished after spending miserable sleepless nights of writing papers and finally turning it in.

-Living in another country: I love being the foreign one, even if it means making some sort of cultural blunder or offending someone by accident on a daily basis. Everything seems exotic and new when you are out of context. I love that I will be living with people from everywhere, where everyone will have different accents and different stories to tell and listen to different music and speak different languages.

-OLYMPICS 2012: Ok so this is still a year away, but DUH, I will be in London for the summer Olympics!!! Life goal of attending the Olympics is soon to be complete.

-The unknown: So this really is the main source of my stress but let’s admit it, I kinda like having to think on my feet when travelling. Who cares if I have to show up in London and then find somewhere to live, figure out what classes I’m taking, and see just how accurate my budget really is. There’s a challenge in travel that draws me back every time, and it always works out in the end.

So here I go. I have two days to pack, a ticket to London, and no plan once I show up. Thankfully, my papa is tagging along for the first week to help me get settled. Let the adventure begin… again.

Fifteen minutes

I will never understand the devastation in this world; how winds can lift up your life and throw it down again in a tangled mess upon the earth; how your boards and cinder blocks can stretch for miles and miles across open land while neighbors’ houses are perfectly intact.

A friend and I went to help the neighbors of a professor sift through what used to be their house until a tornado barreled over it. They were trying to find their heirlooms and photographs and proof of appliances for insurance’s sake. As we drove into the neighborhood, we were taken aback by the trail of wreckage strewn between and over houses and over a ridge into another neighborhood. Half of a barn, a roof where a house used to be…

We pulled up to the address marked by a cardboard sign. The only intact piece of the house was the cement floor of a two car garage. The two cars had been lifted by the storm and tossed into trees before falling into what might have been the living room. It looked like an angry child had smashed a dollhouse. The floor plan of several rooms lay a little ways away where the outline of walls and bits of carpet or tile marked separate rooms. Our professor introduced us to the family. The father nodded to acknowledge us but had little to say. I didn’t know whether to smile to try and cheer him up or to apologize for his loss. Neither seemed fitting and neither would make much of a difference coming from a stranger who still had everything while he had nothing but his life. That however, was a miracle in itself.

 The family had been sitting in their living room during the storms, believing much like I did until last week that it was just a bad thunder storm. Tornados didn’t hit east Tennessee. We have mountains that protect us. Suddenly, the family felt the pressure in the room drop. They ran to the cement storage area in their basement. As they opened the door, it flew off its hinges and into the air. The entire house was pulled by the storm off its foundation and dismantled by the winds while they were in it.

Unfortunately, only fifteen minutes after we arrived, it began to rain. All I did for the family was move a pile of cardboard boxes. I have no money to ease their financial loss. I have no home to offer them. I have no words of wisdom or comfort that will change their outlook. And my one tiny effort of helping sift through the rubble only lasted fifteen minutes. So what do you do with an experience like this? Add it to your collection of experiences, filed away until you need the memory to help you empathize with others facing a similar devastation? Write about it and post it on a blog?

And why do we read stories like this? To give us perspective on life and teach us to appreciate what we have or because like in cars on an interstate, we all want to turn and look at the wreck as we drive by? Why do we make movies about violence and destruction to watch in plush air-conditioned theaters when there is so much of it already in the world? Our culture is so rich that we are nearly isolated from true devastation and like curious kids, we’re drawn to accounts of it. But to those who have experienced devastation like losing a house or surviving war and genocide, when all you have left is your life, these accounts seem sick and detestable. So why am I writing this? Would the family I just met want to read a young girl’s thoughts on the destruction she only saw for fifteen minutes?

I don’t know. I don't know quite how to react but I feel that there are just as many questions to ask of an experience like this as there are lessons to be learned from it, and the more familiar we are with devastation, the more we will know how to react and how to help. I guess if nothing else, those fifteen minutes helps to put things into perspective and is a reminder not to make mountains out of mole hills.

Faith in all forms

Religion can become a convoluted and complex creature. It can foster just as much disjuncture as community at times. No religion seems to be found in its truest, idealistic sense; yet there can be incredible wisdom in every religion. And, in my opinion, an honest faith can be stunningly beautiful. So here are some of my favourite prayers and songs from many religions.

                                                                                                                                                                    

“If you see the soul in every living being, you see truly.”

The Bhagavad Gita

May today there be peace within. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.... May you be content knowing you are a child of God. Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.

St. Theresa's Prayer

The Islamic call to Prayer

ੴ ਸਤਿ ਨਾਮੁ ਕਰਤਾ ਪੁਰਖੁ ਨਿਰਭਉ ਨਿਰਵੈਰੁ ਅਕਾਲ ਮੂਰਤਿ ਅਜੂਨੀ ਸੈਭੰ ਗੁਰ ਪ੍ਰਸਾਦਿ ॥

Ik­oaʼnkār saṯ nām karṯā purakẖ nirbẖa­o nirvair akāl mūraṯ ajūnī saibẖaʼn gur parsāḏ.

One Universal Creator God. The Name Is Truth. Creative Being Personified. No Fear. No Hatred. Image Of The Undying, Beyond Birth, Self-Existent. By Guru's Grace

The Mul Mantra- The foundations of Sikhism



Tibetan Prayer Flags

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy;

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

The prayer of St. Francis

Maha Gayatri- a Hindu Mantram

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
The rains fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Traditional Gaelic Blessing

PASSION

As a teenager
It is important to shake your fist at the gods
to run as far and as fast as you can into the dark
get lost, pass out, and wake up the next day
with a volume of new and troubling goals
and no plan whatsoever to help you achieve them.

As an adult
it is important to look back at how hard your fist shook
and how those gods still forgave you,
because they had been there too,
running and passing out,
and now that it is all here upon you
plan or no plan
those goals don’t seem nearly as troubling.

By Dallas Clayton via Thought at Work

The power of being a stranger

I was walking up the stairs at school one day as a girl was walking down. As we passed, we smiled at each other and then she hesitated. She took another step down, paused, and ran back up three steps to where I was. “I’m sorry if this is sounds weird but you just look really cute.” I didn’t quite know what to say but before I had grasped the compliment, she was already heading back down the staircase. I went on my way but couldn’t help to think about how easily an unexpected compliment can brighten your day.

What is it about that moment, and hundreds of others like it when a stranger compliments you or performs a random act of kindness or simply starts an unexpected conversation that seem to have so much power to impact us, to brighten a day? I think the answer lies in the basic fact that it came from a stranger.

In anthropology, Marcel Mauss is known for his work concerning reciprocity and the act of giving. Mauss’ work centers around the practice of potlatch among the Kwakiutl of the Pacific Northwest where tribes would present rivals with gifts and feasts in an attempt to out-give each other. The tribe that could not give away or destroy an equal or increased amount of wealth was considered defeated. While similar practices of exchange and reciprocity have been studied as a part of economics, Mauss views the potlatch as relating to social structure and as symbolic of social relationships. He considers the three acts of giving, receiving, and repaying as social obligation. When Mauss coined the phrase “no gift is unencumbered,” he basically said that no gift or act of charity or kindness is done without expectation of return in some form. People donate money to charity for all sorts of reasons without always recognizing it: for tax breaks, for social status, out of tradition, etc. As in the case of the Kwakiutl, gifts were a way of gaining honor and prestige and the inability to give led to shame and loss of social status.

So what is it about a stranger’s gift, be it a compliment or kind act, that strikes us as so unexpected? Maybe it’s because with a stranger, there is much less social obligation. When a friend leaves you an encouraging note, there is some expectation to return the gift at a similar level, perhaps saying thank you, perhaps with a note in the future. When a stranger leaves an anonymous note of encouragement in your mailbox, as one incredible friend often does for her neighbors, there is no expectation of return. It is a gift in the truest sense. The giver may have gained a small bit of social status if she told others about the act or perhaps gained a sense of self-satisfaction, but largely, the gift was socially unrepayed.

As strangers, we hold incredible power in the smallest acts. I’ve heard the story, be it true or not, about someone at the drive-through of Starbucks on a busy day who paid for the order of the car behind him. When the car pulled to the window and found that the drink was already paid for, there was no one to thank or to return the favor to, so instead, the driver paid for the order of the car behind her. This went on for hours, each car paying for the one behind, until the line died out. The desire to repay the gift was passed on from stranger to stranger. Shows like Secret Millionaire and Extreme Home Makeover capitalize on the emotion and impact of unexpected and unreturned giving. And few can deny how inspirational they are. But it doesn’t take a camera crew or thousands of dollars to have the same impact. All it takes is being a stranger. Sure, a compliment may not match building a home, but the principle is the same. It is a gift without obligation. Keep that in mind next time you’re at the grocery store or school or work or anywhere you meet a stranger. Because in that moment, you have an incredible power to brighten someone’s day.



"My whole life I have been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted until I discovered my interruptions were my work."

- a professor at Notre Dame

A simple thought for a snowy day...

In fourth grade, I had to memorize the poem "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost. I remember reading the words written on a blue sheet of paper decorated with snowflakes which hung on the wall of the classroom. Something about the idea of stealing a moment in someone else’s woods to watch the snow fall resonates deeply with me. I’ve always loved the simplest moments when time seems to stand still and a quiet happiness settles over everything. But it’s the last lines of the poem that always come to mind, as if Frost knows a moment in the woods is just that, a moment. There is no regret as he continues on his way. With the end of winter holidays and all the laziness they inspire, tonight offers one last night to watch the snow fall. Tomorrow reminds me of all the ambition, excitement, work, adventure, and challenge of another semester which I’m eager to start. Though the moment was lovely, I'm glad it's once again time to look ahead.

“These woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.”