mercies and movements.

David in Venice- some December morning, 2010

I feel like I have been missing for a while now. People have left and I have changed and certain things have dissipated- floating off like when you blow on a wishy washy and all the little seeds go trembling through the air. 

Nick has been gone for eight weeks in Yosemite. He has climbed huge rocks, ones I have only ever seen pictures of. One night as we chatted on the phone, he casually mentioned his plans to climb Half Dome in the morning with a German guy he had just met. I wish you could hear the way he says it, like "Haaaayeaaaah it'll be cool!" But eight weeks is so long and I have been missing my friend very much. 

Also, I've been missing The Awakening, our church service that ended last year. I haven't quite found a way to worship in place of it. I hadn't realized the significance of not having it would have on me, and to others who were deeply involved with it as well. I have attended other services, but none have taken the shape of a porch light of a warm house in the middle of the night like The Awakening was. 

And as always, my body seems to want to face east to Spain. There have been little things that catch my eyes. Our little Spanish family that came back from a year abroad has stayed so close. But it is not the same when we were free to roam streets and roam across borders into countries we had only ever seen pictures of. Oh that feeling! Of movement and adventure- it is indescribable and desirable.

How am I supposed to write about missing people and places when its so personal, experienced on a fleshy level, in every minute of the day and around certain corners of certain streets? Its about the tiny cells that make me a me and you a you. The memory patterns we walk ourselves through as we try to adjust ourselves to being without someone is awkward, a looping of "maybe this will help...nope. Okay, maybe this will help...nope again." I've moved back and forth from my bed to the couch and back again six or seven times, uncomfortable in both places. I've put my hair up, then down, up again, figuring out which makes me look more like my mom so I can carry her with me. I sit on the porch on Sabbath mornings, or sleep in, or drink coffee and try to read religious books, but my church community feels more like a vapor than it ever has. It's all very weird!

Now, I'm moving to California. Away from everything I know. In a little more than a month, which is exciting but I find myself already missing the Northwest. In a way that I want to lay on every solid surface- the streets, mountains, woody trails, up against walls and in friend's houses, my apartment floor- and memorize the curvy body of my homeland. 

But there's good news in all this- Nick is coming home tomorrow :). He's driving right now and listening to Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott. And that is what I'm wishing for him and what I am hoping for myself through all this missing and moving: traveling mercies. 

“What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family.” - Mama T

the making of peace, over the course of two days

Every year, the Office of Diversity at the WWU puts on a Peacemaking Weekend. It's headed up by a very unique and loved Theology professor named Pedrito- he was once referred to by the university president as a "spicy Jamaican " And he really is. He is full to the brim with passion and zest for life, so when Pedrito calls for peace, you had better answer!

We went downtown and read poems about peace to the passing community; poems and prose and speeches. Appropriately, and to Pedrito's absolute delight, the entire steel band came out as well to play some island jams in between readings. The reading I appreciated the most, KTW had chosen. It is part of President Obama's Speech to the Muslim World at Cairo University from June 4, 2009:

"All of us share this world for but a brief moment in time. The question is whether we spend that time focused on what pushes us apart, or whether we commit ourselves to an effort — a sustained effort — to find common ground, to focus on the future we seek for our children, and to respect the dignity of all human beings.

It is easier to start wars than to end them. It is easier to blame others than to look inward; to see what is different about someone than to find the things we share. But we should choose the right path, not just the easy path. There is also one rule that lies at the heart of every religion — that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. This truth transcends nations and peoples — a belief that isn't new; that isn't black or white or brown; that isn't Christian, or Muslim or Jew. It's a belief that pulsed in the cradle of civilization, and that still beats in the heart of billions. It's a faith in other people, and it's what brought me here today.

We have the power to make the world we seek, but only if we have the courage to make a new beginning, keeping in mind what has been written.

The Holy Koran tells us, "O mankind! We have created you male and a female; and we have made you into nations and tribes so that you may know one another."

The Talmud tells us: "The whole of the Torah is for the purpose of promoting peace."

The Holy Bible tells us, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God."

The people of the world can live together in peace. We know that is God's vision. Now, that must be our work here on Earth."

We know that we can live peacefully- and it begins very small in each individual. Today, I am making peace in small ways as an individual.