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'

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.