Shades of grey

I'm more at peace now than ever with the fact that no one is all good or all bad. Even Public Enemy No. 1 (whomever that may be at a certain point in time) may stop and guilelessly offer candy to kids. As more time passes from the sadness in recent years, I can appreciate the whole composition of each individual residing in the frozen frames in my mind. Where I've concentrated on the darkness in past posts, I have created space in my mind to see also the good that was mixed into the picture.

It is in this intersection -- between goodness and evil -- that humanity finds its redemption and condemnation. There is the hope that goodness will prevail in each of us and subsequently in our world, but there is the knowledge that the other half may win out in that individual at that time. What's important to me is never to give up on someone. History has redemption stories sewn into its quilted testimony of humanity's potential. We do not ever get the full story, but what we see resonates with examples around us in present day and we can fill the gaps with what we've witnessed.

Saul is a classic example. A hater of Christians to the extent of imprisoning and killing as many as he could, this man later would address them as 'brothers' and contribute a bulk of writings to their main book of guidance. "I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to make you strong -- that is, that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other's faith," St. Paul writes in Romans 1:11. Could this be the same man?

Perhaps the majority of soulful changes aren't as drastic, but all are notable. And all should be remembered -- not just the changes from hatred to love, but also the falls from good. Those are equally a part of humanity's story. They serve as a cautionary tale that our souls are on the battlefield; good and evil are fighting daily to gain ground. What many of us don't realize is how much these daily skirmishes do count until their results are manifested in an act that seems foreign to our nature and we struggle to comprehend how we might have arrived there.

In times when I might be surprised by words that come out of my mouth or a particular action that doesn't seem to fit with the rest of me, Socrates' words return to me: "The unexamined life is not worth living." The Jesuits, founded by St. Ignatius of Loyola, educated me in college and I am grateful to their influence. In addition to their emphasis on social justice and serving others, they also taught me about a nightly reflection called "The Examination of Conscience." In it, one remembers the day and thinks of the moments that were well-lived and those in which one fell short of his/her potential. With this practice, goodness gains ground in the awareness and commitment to do better the next day. And by acknowledging that we are works in progress, our compassion grows for those around us, as well.

'Under Construction' sign in Singapore; Photo credit: Flickr user 'hellochris'

Breaking the silence

I've been treading water this past week, so to speak; I thought I'd share this new favorite with you while I work on my next post:

Calling all word nerds

I stumbled upon a list tonight that I think is too good to pass up. Aside from the satisfaction that comes from beefing up your vocabulary, you never know when one of these rare words might come in handy.

Imagine you're in the hot seat on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" and poised to win the purse with only one remaining question. You've used all your lifelines. You land on this: What is another word for the infinity symbol? A.) Philtrum B.) Ferrule C.) Glabella D.) Lemniscate

Are you going to see confetti falling or will you walk away wishing you had checked out the Top 10 Words For Things You Didn't Know Have Names?

I hope for your lunules that it's the former, my friend.

Locked out!

Photograph by M.G.H. upon returning home.

 For the record it's 3 a.m. I called the proverbial red phone of my apartment building only to find out that getting someone out of bed to open the front door would cost me $45.

You may be thinking: "$45? What's the hangup? Pay it, march upstairs and crawl into bed." But maybe, like me, you're not. I'm revolting on principle, refusing to part with half-a-hundred dollars for the simple act of crossing a threshold. My fiscal rebel envisions bills on my kitchen table that would receive that amount with greater appreciation than a leasing office that already gets more than enough each month. 

Don't get me wrong. I've already thought longingly of the shower and soft bed just beyond my reach. I've been guiltstricken imagining my poor hungry kitty pacing the apartment, meowing her complaints. I've imagined the dazed stupor that'll cling to me tomorrow morning when I stumble from the backseat of my car to wait beside the front door for early risers to exit the building.

For now, I've converted the backseat of my car into a cradle of creativity. Laptop screen up. Earbuds in. New Age music wafting into my writing state of mind. At least in here I don't have to deal with wet concrete, giant bugs, or the feeling of vulnerability that cloaks a woman in the wee hours of the morning. At least in here, I can sleep without keeping one eye open for insects or predators.

I realize how blessed I am  to have this temporary 'apartment'. Sure it's smaller than my bed and isn't exactly designed for overnight stays, but it's safe, softer than the sidewalk, shelters me from the elements and if I get hot, I can run the A/C. How many people in the world can't say the same. 

In the first sixty minutes of my short exile from comfort, I'm reminded of how little we need and that having less allows us to appreciate the things that we do have even more. I am newly mindful of responsible ways to use the resources I possess.

But I'll definitely be double-checking my key ring each time I leave home.

"The most important job ... ever"

A recent discovery on the radio prompted me to pause and reflect on the importance of fatherhood (you'll find the song below).

I can't help but nod in agreement with the way Randy Pausch, author of The Last Lecture, points to an aspect of his life that influenced all other components. "I won the parent lottery," he writes. "I was born with the winning ticket, a major reason I was able to live out my childhood dreams."

I've been blessed with an amazing father who has reassured us of his love for my mom and us, supported every dream my sisters and I have had, encouraged us to push ourselves to reach our potential, instilled within us a love of reading, the arts and travel, and challenged us to spend our lives in the pursuit of justice and in service to others.

But how many in our nation can't say that? Last month, President Obama reflected on the state of fatherhood in the Union. If you haven't heard his speech yet, I'd encourage you to check it out by watching it below or reading it here.



Key points the President makes:

• Fathers are our first teachers and coaches ... they’re our mentors, our role models.
• We also know that what too many fathers being absent means. ... We know that when fathers abandon their responsibilities, there’s harm done to those kids.
• It’s hard to live up to the lifelong responsibilities that come with fatherhood.
• Our children don’t need us to be superheroes.  They don’t need us to be perfect.  They do need us to be present.  They need us to show up and give it our best shot, no matter what else is going on in our lives.  They need us to show them -- not just with words, but with deeds -- that they, those kids, are always our first priority.
• No matter what doubts we may feel, what difficulties we may face, we all have to remember being a father -- it’s not just an obligation and a responsibility; it is a privilege and a blessing, one that we all have to embrace as individuals and as a nation.

The theme of supporting and holding fathers accountable in their efforts to be better dads is addressed in Sanctus Real's song "Lead Me". The lyrics capture the essence of marriage and fatherhood within the context of Christianity but the songwriter's struggle extends beyond any faith.

Balancing relationships and ambition is a central challenge to many in the USA (not just fathers) and is, in my opinion, at the heart of the American family unit dissolving. The song is a powerful testament, however, to that sense of responsibility and love that unites family, the importance of communicating through the difficulties, and the supernatural help that is within our reach, should we look for it.



I'll close with an excerpt from President Obama's speech:

"Those family meals, afternoons in the park, bedtime stories; the encouragement we give, the questions we answer, the limits we set, the example we set of persistence in the face of difficulty and hardship -- those things add up over time, and they shape a child’s character, build their core, teach them to trust in life and to enter into it with confidence and with hope and with determination. And that’s something they’ll always carry with them: that love that we show not with money, or fame, or spectacular feats, but through small daily acts -- the love we show and that we earn by being present in the lives of our children."

Unexpected milestones

It's funny. The experience of healing from trauma happens first in transitions from minute to minute (when it's all you can do just to breathe and put one foot in front of the other), to hourly, daily, then week-long and monthly steps away from the pain. 

Somewhere along the way, the memories that used to smother you disperse and -- if you're like me -- you start to focus more on the possibilities of Life than on what you were fortunate enough to leave behind. But it's days like today that snap me out of complacency and pseudo-amnesia to note the pervasive problem that affects millions in the USA alone, not to mention every other country around the world.

Shattering the cliched belief that domestic violence is a 'personal' problem to which one should turn a blind eye or deaf ear, a story broke this morning about a 37-year-old man in Albuquerque who shot dead two people and injured four more (among them his girlfriend) before turning the gun on himself. This is not an issue that is contained by the four walls of a home. It spills out onto our streets and into our workplaces. It often leaves the victims homeless (usually mothers with children, jeopardizing her ability to provide for them and their chance at an education). The cycle repeats itself with the nasty subtext that many who witnessed the horror as a child become perpetrators themselves, spawning new generations of abusers and the subsequent ripple effect across society.

The second event was the widespread reporting of a recorded abusive rant that was allegedly Mel Gibson threatening to kill his ex-girlfriend. The audio speaks for itself, but there are a few points worth noting:

• an abuser usually feels like the victim ("you see what you make me do?") 
• an abuser feels entitled and under-appreciated ("I deserve ...")
• an inflated self-image is usually paired with an excess of insecurity
• the problem is always with the other person
• the abuser criticizes anybody in the victim's support network to isolate the victim; the abuser may base criticisms on the way family members or friends fall short in loving the victim, according to the abuser's perspective, or on perceived lack of morality, pedigree, etc.
• Sample argument recycled from conversation to conversation: "You don't have any friends. I am your only friend and you treat me like ____, which is why you deserve to be treated this way. And if you were smart you'd see that the way I'm treating/hurting you is for your own good."
• the abuser can swing between provocation and efforts to silence (taunting/bullying the victim and then snapping when he/she speaks out) 
• abusers are unable to manage their anger, yet seek to use it to control others

I was hesitant to listen to the clip, unsure of how I'd react to returning to the past. While my heart breaks for the women who are still caged by rage, I was reassured. I could hear the attacker's words and with a knowing nod -- instead of teary eyes or a racing heart -- note in myself a healthy level of detachment. While the rant took me back to the tumult of years past, it also accentuated the peace (and welcome silence) I have savored since leaving. May all those who feel trapped find a safe and healthy way out.

Bite-sized inspiration

"Use what talents you possess; the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best." --Henry Van Dyke

A particular playlist

... springing from a conversation with my sidekick-in-crime (not pictured :-]). She's doing awesome things in other women's lives and she reminded me how widespread an issue relationship abuse is. Here are my top picks for women weighing their options or trying to pick up the pieces of their hearts and lives after leaving: 

1. Remember That by Jessica Simpson
2. Stupid in Love by Rihanna
3. Spotlight by Jennifer Hudson
4. Cold Case Love by Rihanna
5. There's More to Me Than You by Jessica Andrews
6. Survivor by Destiny's Child 
7. Fighter by Christina Aguilera
8. I Get Out by Lauryn Hill

Peace and love --m.g.h.

Tragic truths

I just finished the previously-mentioned Black Like Me, an eye-opening account of the absurdity of racial hatred in our nation's recent history. In the late 1950s, John Howard Griffin, a white journalist from Texas, is haunted persistently by these questions:

"If a white man became a Negro in the Deep South, what adjustments would he have to make? What is it like to experience discrimination based on skin color, something over which one has no control?" 

He decides one night to embark on a seven-week journey that would answer those questions by medically altering his skin color and experiencing the discrimination firsthand. The book is a series of journal entries, beginning the night he decides to pursue this project and ending with the world's reaction to his published work. Griffin's strength as a journalist in documenting his experience lies in his observation skills and his commitment to include details that powerfully evoke these situations for the reader.

In an afterword, Griffin's biographer Robert Bonazzi explains:

The book's evocation of naked experience, of what is being done to the narrator rather than what he does, draws us toward the center, engages our emotions and all of our senses. We view scenes in vivid detail, hear precise tones in the dialogue and interior monologue, smell fear, and taste dread ...

The power of the book is rooted in the uncomfortable truth that many people who were impacted by it would not have listened to its revelations if they were not written by a white man. If he had not been a part of a privileged class and documented the respect and dignity he was freely given before changing only his appearance, his experience would have been written off.

The flaw of the book springs from the same place of its power. While Griffin as a black man relearns social conditioning to act according to societal expectations, and while he approaches each situation with the methodology of a sociologist, he never fully relinquishes his white perspective. There are passages that, though well-intended, come across sounding racially paternalistic. He also has the luxury of being able to escape the despair of the ghetto when it begins to close in on him by asking to stay with a friend in the white area of town.

That being said, the book is still one motivated by a rare sense of humanity and courage, given the time period. Despite its weaknesses, I will echo the back cover's recommendation that this "chillingly relevant eyewitness history is a work about race and humanity every American must read."

Bite-sized inspiration

"I've come to believe that each of us has a personal calling that's as unique as a fingerprint - and that the best way to succeed is to discover what you love and then find a way to offer it to others in the form of service, working hard, and also allowing the energy of the universe to lead you."

--Oprah Winfrey, O Magazine, September 2002

Possibilities

I love this ad for its storytelling and the message of remaining open to Life's possibilities. (Like all ads featured on this blog, I am not endorsing the product nor do I have any connection to the company.) 



In a nod to Jung's synchronicity theory, Michael Buble released this song shortly before AT&T aired the ad. For a while, I pointed discouraged friends to it for a dose of optimism and hope. Then I found out that he cast his girlfriend as the main lead, which makes the song ring hollow. Not well-played, Buble. All the same, voila:

A Conflicted Fourth

Each Fourth of July, regardless of my location in the world, I have worn my colors, sang the songs, watched the fireworks and felt very patriotic. I'd think of the brave men and women who put everything on the line to found this country, risking liberty and life, (in the case of men) leaving wife and children to draw up the documents we still refer to today, and then fight battles in primitive conditions to defend the rights they declared.

I'd think of the men and women who continue to put their lives on the line to defend U.S. interests and the sacrifices they make. Having kept in touch with my friend while he serves in Afghanistan, I have new respect and appreciation for everything that entails.

While I am still a proud American, this Fourth was completely different for me. Watching the fireworks was the only thread of continuity linking me to years past. What's different now is that my vision's gone from 2-D to 3-D. Added to the cardboard cutouts of our founding fathers frozen in their moments of glory is a crowd of faces behind them - each with its own heartbreaking tragedy to tell: being sold like livestock, daily life steeped in condescension, lashings, losing family members to the auction block or at the hands of a bigot, and the death of dreams. Now I replay the parades, flag-waving, speeches about liberty and God's role in this young nation at the same time that this quilt of heartbreak and horror is going on in plain sight -- and it makes it impossible for me to celebrate the holiday as I used to. I'm not trying to be a downer, I just feel like we need to be telling the whole story in context because otherwise it's propaganda. Without context, it's an insult to the memory of the faces in that crowd and a disservice to the future of this country.

Early start

The alarm goes off at 4:45 a.m.

We look at each other, stunned to be up before daylight. Her eyes ask me: "You sure we have to do this?"

The reward for getting up.

A soul's plea

Anybody who's been in a controlling relationship or has been victimized by injustice or discrimination knows that freedom is built into our souls; that the form of any oppression upon us, the manipulation of heart, mind and/or liberty, is a grave offense and that that violation resonates to our very core.

--February 4, 2009

Tuned in

For not being much of a TV-watcher, I sometimes get made fun of for ordering two (count 'em, two!) premium channels: TV5Monde (French) and RaiItalia (Italian). But tonight I was reminded of why I keep them in my package. Not only do they help me maintain language skills, but they also consistently have beautiful, artistic films I would never find through Netflix or iTunes; and vegging out is still somewhat intellectually engaging when I turn to one of these channels instead of the reality TV alternatives.

Tonight I happened to catch the last two-thirds of a WWII movie called 'Zone Libre' (Free Zone). I won't go into too much detail but the movie focuses on one part of a family that is split up and hiding with a French peasant who is protecting them from Nazi sympathizers. The quality of the acting and the cinematic storytelling were top-notch. I noticed aspects of the experience I had never thought of from previous exposure to other WWII movies and books. In one scene, the peasant Monsieur Maury stops to check on three of the women he is protecting -- two sisters and their mother -- at the isolated farmhouse and he brings them a bouquet of lilacs. Their expressions of delight and gratitude spurred me to think of the profound nature and impact this seemingly tiny gesture offers.

***

To anybody else it's just a bouquet.
But to us - we who are stuck in the shadows of a hostile world,
denied the luxury of 'normalcies' and faced instead with
yellow stars, boxcars, family losses and death camps -
these flowers remind us of the beauty that can still grow
in a world as crazy as ours,
where men engineer systems of annihilation
and lose sight of humanity.

These flowers show us the kindness
that can survive despite the bleak times,
of the humanity and goodness in some
that rise to outdo the evil of the day.

These remind us that we can choose who we become,
even in the worst-case scenario
we can mimic or defy our captors
in the adopted attitudes and values we display.

These blooms may be the only sweet-smelling fragrance
we encounter while hiding out on this farm,
here with the smells of sweat and sh*t and animals.

They may be our only visible sign of hope
and they sustain our will to live
when we think of the beauty this world can offer,
the goodness of those around us,
and we take a sensual escape from our imprisonment.

But to anybody else, it's just a bouquet.