I feel happy...and hopeful

This morning I woke up feeling happy...even now the mood holds. I am listening to a combination of old Motown and RnB...still wearing my flannel pjs. P has given up the battle and has gone back to bed. M is reading. R, A and B are all at school. The lights are dim and I have no pressing demands.

I was thinking yesterday about relationship. I think that naturally we do not seek out deep and intimate relationship with other human beings, but we long for them. But I think that we are made to be in deep and intimate relationship...these are the kind of relationships that are ultimately satisfying and uncompromisingly safe.

Everything in culture mitigates against meaningful relationship...busy lives, social taboos, fear of vulnerability... I think you might be able to say that these things are cultural universals that keep us from each other. What each culture looks like and expects might be vastly different; however we are programmed to hide our weakness and pain. We all suffer at some time with a deep fear of being exposed and we have a few options to confront that fear. Some of us might ignore it...some of us might construct a life to keep ourselves safe and others of us rush into it battling the fear. I think we are called to overcome fear...even the fears that no one else could possibly see.

I think that I lived enslaved of fear for a long time. I was meticulous about keeping the facade of 'everything is alright' without thinking that freedom was possible. As I have been reading Henri Nouwen's (http://www.henrinouwen.org/) The Way of the Heart, I have been challenged to not run from the things stored in the dark corners of my heart, but to let the Light expose them. He clearly differentiates the pursuit of privacy from the pursuit of solitude. Where privacy is the place of nurturing the self...a therapeutic place we go to garner strength to face the challenges of life; solitude is the furnace of transformation where we go to face our false self...a place of seeing ourselves stripped and needy where we can met God in our naked shame.

In this book Nouwen refers to the teachings of the Desert Fathers; not that he is advocating a life of cloistering or asceticism, but that we can learn the principles of confronting our false selves and engage the world around us as more accurate representatives of Christ. What has challenged me has been the passion with which they pursued knowledge of their false selves so that they could then die to themselves and be reborn yielded fully to the call of God.

Nouwen writes: The task is to persevere in my solitude, to stay in my cell until all my seductive visitors ( mental, spiritual and other distractions) get tired of pounding on my door and leave me alone. The "Isenheim Altar" painted by Grunewald(see right) shows with frightening realism the ugly faces of the many demons who tempted Anthony ( an early Desert Father)in his solitude. The struggle is real because the danger is real. It is the danger of living the whole of our life as one long defense against the reality of our condition, one restless effort to convince ourselves of our virtuousness. Yet, Jesus "did not come to call the virtuous, but sinners" ( Matthew 9:13).

As strange as this might seem it gives me hope...hope that I can enter into that place where I see myself as I am...my fears, weaknesses and sins exposed...so that I can then fully experience that feeling of being made clean and set free. The thing is that I currently believe that I stand forgiven and accepted by my Maker. But I know that I do not walk in that place of full surrender, and that is my goal...to be yielded to the one who made me, knows me and loves me best.

So how do this tie into the ideas of relationship? The thing is that if we could live like we believe, truly believe that we are accepted. Then we will be less bound by the approval, affirmation or judgement of those around us. If we are less bound by 'what others think' then we are more free to be who we are. The more free we are in who we are, the more we encourage others to enter into that same freedom and the more intimate relationships we can be part of. Where fear and hidden lives teach others to live with fear and with a hidden life; a life of freedom tangibly demonstrates to others that fear doesn't have to rule and in nakedness is a freedom that can be sought.

Not that I have achieved this, but when I think about my future this is what I long for. To be able to walk in freedom because I have nothing to hide and nothing to fear.

Exploring the Possibilites

As B and I imagine the coming year, we are trying to keep mindful of the fact that Jesus said that he came so that his 'sheep' could have life and have it abundantly. Since the largest part of our identity is found in being a follower of Jesus then we should live an abundant life. In the recent past at times our lives have felt overwhelming...full of duty rather than passion...so we are trying to find what we have been missing and bring it out again.

In this process, the high school art teacher left. Since B has a lighter teaching load, he offered to take one class. Honestly, the grade 10s had a good giggle at the thought of their Religious Studies teacher being able to show them anything in the realm of fine arts. Now, those of you who have known B for a long time, you know that he has some talent. So as the faithful wife I thought I'd brag on his behalf...

This is a sketch that B drew from a photo that he took years ago when we drove through Ladakh. This man is a Tibetan yak herding Nomad. We came across a small group of yak herders while we drove up to Leh. They stopped us on the way and we had a little visit.

In case you thought I had any hidden talents of this sort...sorry to disappoint...

I think I talk too much...so how can I be a learner?

I just had a lovely visit with some dear women, who live here on the hillside. But, I fear that I began to take over. I realize that having a blog has helped me to put down on some of my thoughts so that I don't feel compelled to have to talk to someone who may or may not be interested. ...now I am grateful that these women care about me and I think were interested, but as I sit sipping my tea in my quiet house I think I had too many opinions on too many things.

The answer I suppose it to be more deliberate about posting so that I get my thoughts down... process them a bit and get a bit of feedback...

I guess that leads to my thoughts about our conversation...Assuming the Position of the Learner... Essentially, much of what we discussed comes back to: living right and becoming a learner to be able to impact the culture around us.

As a little side bar...I don't remember who introduced me to a London Fog... It's Earl Grey Tea with steamed milk and vanilla syrup. I had it the first time at the Starbucks in Thunder Bay...it has become a comfort drink for me. With my current dietary restrictions I have it with sweet soy milk and a teaspoon full of vanilla extract. It currently serves as a comfort drink for me.

Away from my taste buds and back to my thoughts...

If I had to articulate my most recent concerns...it would be this: I see good people coming here with vision and a sense of call. I hear them speak out their concerns and thoughts...most true things. But I also see that they are not being heard. So I sat and thought why is this so???

Maybe this is happening because they are not arriving with the first thought as: 'What can I learn?', but 'What can I give?'. My thoughts have moved in this fashion. If we are building a relationship we begin by getting to know someone. To get to know them better we might increase the amount of time together or we might increase the level of intimacy in our conversation. But we generally move forward by increments...and with some people the increments might be baby steps...and with others the increments might be strides. But we all expect that to achieve a relationship where we can know someone well enough to speak negative things as well as positive things it will take time.

I think when we, as people, join together to become part of an institution then we need to use that same philosophy. Enter as if you are entering a relationship (because you are)...take the time to understand the people who are part of the institution and the institution's history. And then as we unravel the history, relationships and values; we will have understanding of the current relational dynamics of the people with each other and with the institution.

Now, in relation to cross-cultural living the essence of the sentiment is the same, particularly when that culture has grown in isolation from your own. The cultural assumptions that we grow up with are not global norms...

For example, most from the US and Canada are familiar with the book/poster "Everything I needed to know I learned in Kindergarten", and it resonates as true with most from Western countries; but some of those so called 'common sense' statements are not as universal as we have grown to expect. A little thing like, 'look both ways before crossing the street', may be so ingrained in us, that we are shocked when we come across someone who doesn't live by that truth. Or on a more serious level, we may be accustomed to teaching our children to 'find a policeman if you are lost'; whereas in some countries that would be an unthinkable directive to teach a child.

I remember a little news article after the London Train Bombings in the summer of 2005. A Brazilian immigrant was shot dead by a police officer for behaving suspiciously and not responding to the call to stop. So many of the editorial comments berated the man for not obeying a police officer...if he wasn't guilty why did he run... But he had some trouble with his immigration paper work and likely he grew up in a culture that feared the power and corruption of the police force. His response was dictated by having grown up with a alternative set of rules to live by, another set of norms, a different 'common sense'. And his response made sense according to the information he had available when he made his decision to run...unfortunately, that lack of cultural understanding communicated an admission of guilt to the culture he was now in and the police officer responded to that assumed admission.

We aught to take seriously that old Chinese proverb: Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. I know that it is very cliched however the truth is that unless you understand the way a person looks at the world and can communicate in a way that meets them there; you will never have any influence for change.

I suppose at some level this is addressed to myself...to not assume that I know what my hometown is like today, to not assume that I know how my friends and family have grown, to not assume that I have changed more than the place and people that I am returning to. In the end, we are all working it out...that it is life, relationships, significance...maybe the best solution is to try as much as possible to shed assumptions and expectations and try to learn as much as we can about any given situation, person or institution before advocating for change. Sustainable change happens progressively...sudden change is rarely sustainable.

Well...that's the thoughts scrambling in my mind for attention...

P.S. I have never told my children to find a police officer if they are lost!

Oop...I did it again...

So last night was the Final Chapel of the school year...otherwise known as the Good-bye Chapel. B asked me to share...first I said no...then I said I'd think about it...then I agreed to it.

It was so nice that as B and I talked about what we were thinking of sharing it seemed to fit together nicely...in the end we shared a bit of our stories and how we met Jesus with the undercurrent of being poured out...living a life that is wasted on God.

The thing is as I prepared...I felt fine...no emotional outpourings...Then as soon as I started to speak I teared up and began with a cry... Standing in front of nearly 400 students and all the staff I cried...let me tell you I did not expect that.

The finality of the move back to Canada has struck me and I am sad. Until now I have been trying to continue on with the "regularly scheduled program". I have not really pulled back or out of comittments. In my mind, I think I was expecting to continue on as usual and then leave. The interesting thing is that B has been doing the exact opposite...he has been pulling out of commitments...turning things over...

Again, we were awake in the night listening to Johnny Cash and sipping tea. B always reviews his words the night after sharing. On the other hand, once my words are out I have a very difficult time recalling what I spoke. I have to trust the feedback I get because I am so unsure about what I said or how I said it...I mean I could give you the general thoughts...God meets us in the midst of our 'stuff', you can trust him to do what he says he will do and 'wasting' your life on him is the best thing you could do with your life.

Thanks to a dear young woman, who works with us, we had hours to pack this weekend without little people. Most of what we are bringing...minus any breakables...are in boxes...17 of them, all nearly full... with a third to a half of each box containing books...we are bringing a mini-library with us. And we have so many clothes to give away...there will be children all over the hillside looking like my girls...One of the nice things about being here is that things are less confined over what is appropriate for little girls or little boys. Now, once those say children reach a certain age, things are more strictly defined, but there seems to be an ambiguous time where anything goes.

...here is one of our favourite paintings. It's by an artist named Frank Wesley. And it is based on the story in Luke 7, at the end of the chapter. We showed it to the students yesterday as we shared about being that woman, who pours out the most precious thing she has on the feet of Jesus. Interestingly, the feet of Jesus have a blue hue, which is a common symbol used to represent divinity in South Asian artwork.

Worn out but happy

The days seem long yet not so productive. I think I am working out what the next year will look like. B keeps asking me what I want to do when we are back in Canada...and the trouble is that I am not sure.

As the years piled on each other I have grown more committed to this place and the lifestyle that goes along with it. I have changed the way I dress, I have changed the way I cook and I have changed the way I socialize. In accommodating life here, the way I look at the world around me has changed.

I am looking forward to going out along. To be able to hop in a vehicle and shop for groceries or just have a cup of coffee all by myself will feel weird at first, but so freeing. The amount of personal freedom in a woman's life in a Western country is almost intoxicating. And yet part of the reason for that freedom is the fact that there is little communal sense of accountability. When I go out I am conscious that I how I dress and behave communicates something about my personal values, about my husband, and about the institution that we are associated with.

The thing is that in North America we have a tendency to remove things from their context and they no longer communicate the story that they are part of. On the other hand, in Asia things, including people are rarely removed from their context...certain foods will always be unclean and those who eat them will be, certain clothes are proper and those who wear them will be, certain activities are unacceptable and those who do them will be.

I was recently listening to a lecture on consumerism. I am now aware that the removing of items, clothes, food, music, rituals, or ideas, from their original context facilitates the consumer culture. And yet, as long as things are tightly bound to context there is little freedom for growth and development.

There are things I want to carry with me...places I have grown in my mind and character. And there are lessons I have learned...particularly about not running ahead with my own ideas, but being patient to see how the hand of God is working just ahead of what I can see. I wonder how this will affect how I settle back into life in Canada. I wonder how cohesively I can meld here and there as we forge a life there, being changed by here.

Nostalgia and other thoughts

Memories are funny things; how they come and go at the whim of some force seemingly beyond the self.

Last night Bri was down in the valley getting some work done on the car. The girls and I took a late evening walk then I read them a chapter out of a new book; we started reading the Canadian Girl Series and they are really enjoying it. And I sat and wondered what I would do with the evening...

I found "You've Got Mail" on television and decided to watch that although I know I have seen before, probably more than once before. I made popcorn, a big cup of Earl Grey Tea and settled in. The popcorn reminds me of staying with my mom and sharing a late night bag of popcorn when we both know we should be in bed.

Earl Grey tea reminds me of the mom of a friend of mine...A's mom died a few years back and yet I have an enduring memory of her. I had popped in for a visit one day...I don't even think that A was living at home at the time. She asked me to stay for tea and so I stayed. We drank Earl Grey...with twice the number of bags for extra flavour. We visited and chatted and sipped tea. Another friend of mine says tea needs ceremony. I think that day I enjoyed the ceremony of tea in a way that I hadn't known. You see, I think that I finally met the woman who had always been A's mom...she was well-read, with a breadth of knowledge wider than most...she had roots on the East Coast and interests in village development in the third world ...I think that she felt her daughters were destined for the extraordinary...the extraordinary that she longed to partake of. Even now, I am sad that I can't share a cup of tea with her. I am sure she would have loved to hear stories of India and look through all my pictures. And I know when I sit with A, we will pick up where we left off even with the passage of years between us. A got married. I couldn't go. But I am looking forward to seeing her in the coming year and bringing a bit of India to share with her.

Unbidden memories flood in... I don't know how to hold them all, but I think telling my stories helps.

Bowling, Bangles, and sore Bottoms.

I started a post earlier today and the electricity cut out long enough for me to lose it...ah, well...

I thought I'd share the last few days, but I am thinking on new things right now. We'll just have to see where this stream takes me...and us as a consequence.

My big accomplishment this weekend was that I learned how to bowl. I have never played Cricket and found myself in the midst of a game for the ladies this weekend. The ball was tossed my way and I had to learn how to bowl. So in my best mimic I tried and was... not necessarily successful, but able to bowl adequately. Thinking back now, I notice that I have tended to stay away from sports that involve bats or racquets. I did play badminton for a short time in High School, but was terribly unsuccessful and henceforth stayed with the sports I could perform reasonably at. Needless to say I wasn't too disappointed to have the game called short...I missed my chance at bat...and then we all sat for a late lunch.

Yesterday we went for a quick wander in the Bazaar...I needed a second shot of penicillin to make sure the infection I had was truly gone. For those of you who have not had the misfortune of needing penicillin injections, count yourselves lucky. The hurt going in...the whole time you are getting the shot you can feel the ache...and they have to give it slowly which only prolongs the agony...and it is administered in the bottom. And today I have an achy bottom; of course the pain is tempered by the knowledge that my immune system is adequately bolstered against any further attacks.

But to ease pain we browsed in a few shops. The girls had cold coffee and muffins. And M was desperately trying to secretly buy me a Mother's Day gift. I took the hint and strolled up and down until she could buy the desired item and stow it. In my meandering I found a fantastic bangle...I searched until I found a matching one and walked along with great delight at my new found treasure. The best things about these bangles are: they are fat, made with Mother of Pearl and fasten a bit like shackles. I am sad to not be able to show you however our camera is still refusing to cooperate. And M was not disappointed so I am guessing that she did not buy me new bangles.

And last but not least, I found a fun blog The Seven Things Project In an attempt to simplify, Earthchick has given herself a year to get rid of seven things each week. I was so encouraged to read about someone else's journey through the bits and pieces that hang around a life. I realized in this process sorting stuff for the move that I form memories attached to certain things. It might be a dress that each girls wore and when I look at it I have a memory snap shot of each one. Or a single sock that hasn't had it's pair in years, but I remember who gave it to which girl. Or a scrap of paper with a hand print on it...or any number of things that have long since ceased to be useful. I think I have been afraid to lose these things that trigger pictures in my mind. At the same time, I am working out how to store those memories without needing to keep the stuff. I do want to simplify not for the sake of having less, but for the purpose of having a life more full of relationship and hearts full of gratitude.

On second thought...

I was in the process of writing a post about the recent arrest warrant out for Richard Gere for kissing an Indian actress on the cheek...it was a bit of a gripe about the unfairness of charging a Western man for kissing someone on the cheek when Indian men all over the country take liberties with Western women; but today has brought a different mood upon me...

I have been feeling under the weather for a couple of weeks; even now I am on antibiotics that make everything taste like metal, I have a headache from sleeping badly on my neck, and I am tired since B and I stayed up talking until about 2 in the morning (typical when we are in transition)...

However, I dragged myself out of bed this morning and decided to get on with the day. The girls needed to get out and I probably did too. So we wandered over to the usual spot for Thursday mornings...met a dear friend on the way...sat, chatted, snuggled a baby, drank some tea... and then I was surprised.

I have to back up a few weeks to explain everything before I tell you what the surprise was. Well, actually, I'll just back up a few days and then you'll be able to understand.

On Monday, B and I stopped in at a Tailor's shop to check on something I had ordered. I hadn't confirmed the order, but I was hopeful. I was tersely told that the item I was after was picked up weeks ago by someone from the School. I was so bugged by this turn of events...I couldn't imagine anyone buying the jacket that was made for me. Brian assured me he must have sold the piece of fabric to someone else; which was a more likely turn of events than someone else paying for a jacket that had been made for me. At that point, I totally let go of the lovely fabric I had picked out... I knew it was an end piece that I was unlikely to find anything quite like it. So rather than be disappointed I comforted myself with the thought that I could always have a black jacket made by someone else. A black jacket would be more practical anyway!

Imagine my total shock as I was presented with this very same jacket at my friend's house today. Two of them had been planning since the day after I found the fabric to get it for me...my procrastination was likely a very helpful element in making this such a complete surprise. I was astounded...the jacket is as lovely as I imagined it would be...and now it is more precious because it now is a reminder of the amazing women who thought of me and loved me.

All this to say that I am happy to have a green jacket...I didn't really want to be practical. And more than that, I am reminded again today to notice all the ways I have been and continue to be blessed...

P.S. I am trying to be mindful of the blessings as P is currently sitting on her bed shouting NO!