Urban Plunge

What a fun time this last weekend was. From Friday October 19 to Sunday October 21st I spent my time with nine students on a service weekend we call the "Urban Plunge." It's a service immersion experience downtown, and in the local LA area where we work for and serve the some of the people in LA experiencing homelessness.

I was really looking forward to this opportunity because Krista, my supervisor, explained that the Urban Plunge seemed to be the moment where the previous JVs began to feel comfortable in the position. And last year's JV, who I contacted about my difficulties said the same thing. So I was really looking forward to this from the beginning of my time at Verb.

We stayed the weekend at Dolores Mission, a fantastic church in Boyle Heights that has a long history of serving a neighborhood entrenched in violence and poverty. DM is an awesome Jesuit parish with some really awesome priests and a dedication to making their community a safe space. The masses are some of the best I've ever been to and I immediately felt like I was part of a community in coming there. The sermons are socially relevent, talk about justice issues and the people are incredibly involved in the mass, taking part in sharing prayer intentions, celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, and first time visiters. It's just awesome. The only other time I've enjoyed mass so much was at Cabrini and for similar reasons--the sense of community.

Now, normally on the Urban Plunge, Verb hosts a dinner service at one of DM's social services, the Guadalupe Homeless Project. The deal there is that the people choose the menu, bring the food, prepare everything and then eat and interact with the people they serve. Unfortunately, the place double booked us and we had to find something else!

This happened two months ago, though, and that was fine. We booked another mission (there are a large amount in LA, unfortunately, because there is such a need) and we were set. Well about a week before the trip I contacted the volunteer coordinator there asking for some more specifics and they told me they had us booked for lunch!

Well this is a problem, I thought.

I've spent the last week frantically trying to replace it somewhere but with such short notice it was nearly impossible. This had made me significantly less excited. I felt like, one, that I had failed, and two, that the trip would now be less than it would have been. I worried that maybe it'd get cut short or somehow not be a good time. And so my previous excitement was replaced with dread and on top of all my other stressers it was pretty much exactly what I didn't need. This was supposed to be the thing that would turn the experience around...my first real chance to get to know some of the guys...and now it was going to be ruined.

Fortunately, though, it all worked out. Friday right after school the boys came into the Campus Min office and we hung out for a little before packing up the vans and driving to DM. Once there the guys played football with a couple of the kids who were hanging out in the school "playground" (which is pretty much just a parking lot with a couple basketball nets and some court lines on the blacktop...pretty typical for a Catholic school in the city.) I played some two-on-two basketball a littel bit with three of the guys and was able to adequately make a fool of myself.

We never found any service site to replace Friday's work, but we did hear about this local church carnival, and so we (myself and Krista, the other chaperone) took the boys and we got some food on Verb's dollar. I had papusas, a Salvadorian dish my casamates constantly rave about. They were pretty good. I think they're filled with beans but I actually enjoyed it, which is abnormal. So that's good. Then I played this Spanish version of Bingo called Lotteria, which is essentially the exact same game but played with pictures instead of numbers.  I did not win. Obviously the little boy and the old lady who did were dirty cheaters.


Lotteria

The carnival was actually a pretty lame affair other than that. Pretty dead and not much to do. But, it was on Sunset Blvd and we had about a half hour left on our parking meter. I was not aware of this but we were parallel to Hollywood Blvd. Well, most of the boys had never seen it and wanted to check it out. And so, suddenly we were walking down Hollywood and through the walk of fame!

Batman and Mr. Freeze

It was quite a fun experience and we visited the lobbies of Hollywood's Museum of Guinness World Records and Ripley's Believe it Or Not "museum" and the Hollywood Wax Museum.

It was the first moment I've really felt like I'm in LA--I know the reason I'm here isn't to do the touristy stuff but I am here and only for a year so I've wanted to see some sights...so it was really good to get out of my neighborhood and somewhere other than the freeway and the distance between casa DK and Verb.

The rest of the night was spent playing Monopoly, eating pizza, and being entertained by the boys insulting each other and beating each other up because that's what high school guys do. Naturally they also had to draw penises on each other when they fell asleep.

In the morning we were off to St. Francis Center, where my casamate Rachel works as volunteer coordinator. It's a social service center that provides meals and a pantry to the homeless population in the area. I've visited there a couple times now and seeing the line of people waiting outside hasn't gotten easier. A couple of the boys helped out with finishing up serving breakfast while the rest prepped for the pantry program.

The pantry program is a mini grocery store setup where the people come through and can pick out different kinds of food from rice and beans to fruit and veggies and bread. It's a very nice system. Lots of people get fed...some are families, and a few of them I recognized from the last time I was there.

After we left St. Francis Center we had time to kill  before our lunch at Homegirl so we stopped at a nearby park and played soccer. I have no athletic skill, but no one really held it against me. I happened to be on a better team, though, so I get to pretend I won. That was a lot of fun.

Then we ate lunch at Homegirl Cafe, part of Homeboy Industries. Homeboy provides rehabilitation services and acts as a second chance for former gang members and incarcerated men and women. Many of these people have spent most of their lives incarcerated, missing out on raising children, being parts of families, leading a normal life. And Homeboy allows them a place to get work experience, offers free tattoo removal and classes and generally is a huge aid in establishing its homies as members of societies. My casamate, Kathryn, works at  Homeboy as an assitant case manager and it sounds like simply a phenomenal place. It was founded by Fr. Greg Boyle, who wrote the book Tattoos on the Heart, and he is the heart and soul of the organization, and in general an awesome dude to chat with over a couple sausages and a beer.

The food was delicious, which is no surprise, because every once in a while we get free bread from Kathryn. We had a good time hanging out and then were off to Skid Row to volunteer at Midnight Mission.

Skid Row is a bummer. It's part of downtown LA, and hosts the highest concentration of homelessness in the country. The streets are lined with cardboard shanties, tents, sleeping bags, and people. Lots of people with nowhere else to go. A few of my housemates work in this area and so I hear a lot about Skid Row and homelessness in general over dinner. And while you can't go anywhere in LA without seeing people living on the streets, Skid Row was a whole new level of understanding of just what this country has failed to do for its people. A person here or there on the streets, people coming in for a meal, that you can handle. That you can process.

But Skid Row is beyond comprehension--how does this exist in the United States? In the world? It is enraging and disheartening. And at the same time it was reinvigorating in a strange way--it recommitted me to working for justice somehow, in any way I can. Simply telling you how terrible and unreal Skid Row is is one way to do that, I guess, but it doesn't do its justice.

The pit that opened in the bottom of my stomach is beyond words. No photograph can capture the experience, no words can convey just what it's like--this place should not exist.

I've worked at a few kitchens and homeless social service organizations but it was never like the experience I had at The Midnight Mission. The sheer numbers, for one, were overwhelming. Two, there were so many young people--my age, not much older, early 30s. Many of them didn't look like your typical image of homelessness. Heart-rending.

When I got there I was assigned probably the lamest job I could think of--bussing. My exact thoughts were, "This sucks," because I was in the back by myself, not serving anything or helping the process of getting meals...probably the worst possible thing to do when you're volunteering, right?

Strangely, it was one of the most rewarding experiences I've ever had in a direct service capacity. I was admiring the work this mission does, the services it provides, the social atmosphere and familiarity amongst its patrons and even some of the volunteers. It's sad that these people are so established among their situation that they have formed these relationships, but it is also strangely encouraging. The warmth and presence of other people can keep you going, I suppose. I had a great chance to observe and simply "be," which is often times the best way to take in an experience.

I was also the last person most people saw before they left and went back to their lives. And so I got a lot of thanks for the work everyone was doing. That was powerful in its own way, because it's a tangible sign of making an impact, even if it's only small, even if it's only for the next few hours. I had a few people ask me for the leftovers (of which there was a surprising amount) before I tossed them.  And that was sad as well. How often does this man eat, I wondered.

But there was one moment, one man, in particular, that made the evening particularly special. It was after the crowd had disappeared, mostly, the line diminished, the work was slowed down, the dinner was through, he stopped and talked to me and the other guy bussing. He told us what great work we were doing, that the angels in heaven would recognize it, that it was brave and worthy and good karma. My initial reaction was to assume this man had a little something loose, because it wasn't that big a deal. He shouldn't be thanking me for anything. But he continued on, saying that we had to really humble ourselves and let go of our pride to help our fellow man in this way, and that it was admirable.

This stuck with me; it continues to stick with me. I think the impulse is to think the other way, that the people being served really have to humble themselves to accept this kind of service, and the temptation may be to think they resent our help. But this man, and so many other folks that evening were genuinely grateful.I don't know who the man was, will probably never see him again, and yet I can really say it was one of the few moments in my life that I would call a "God moment."

 I left Midnight Mission feeling reinvigorated, sure again of some kind of purpose. The weekend made me appreciate an aspect of this job I hadn't considered, and that was the fact that once a month I chaperone Saturday service trips, which means that once a month I volunteer to help others at different organizations. How cool is that?

That night we had reflection, and I was very impressed by what the students shared; they expressed a new point of view on all of this I had never experienced. A younger perspective, and in some ways, more naive, but the seed was there for an understanding of these profound issues, and certainly there was a clear commitment to continue that exploration.

They all also come from a minority perspective. All of the students were latino, (except one, who was black) and so they caught things that I, as a white person, would never have noticed, that I've never thought about, simply because my frame of reference is different. My social class is probably different, my entire view on the world is not the same as theirs. For example, they really noticed that almost all the people they saw  throughout the day were either latino or black. As low income minorities themselves, they were very attune to that fact while for me...well, that's just the way it was and it didn't even register to me. It really increased my awareness of the the economic inequality based on race, in that I never really understood how profound a burden that weighs on every young man at Verb. It's not just that they're low income, it's that they're low income minorities, and that is a whole new dimension of difficulty.

I was really impressed by what the boys shared during our reflection, and how much they got the point of it all. I think I underestimated them a little bit in their ability to grasp the implications of what they were doing and seeing. But they were very sensitive to the reality of what they were seeing, and though they may not be aware of the more complex issues surrounding it, they are dedicated to continuing the work. For some of them, perhaps it hit close to home in a way it never has and probably never will for me.

After reflection, we shifted gears, grabbed some frozen yogurt (which is a big thing in California) and played lots of fun retreat games, including mafia and ninja. It was great being in a familiar retreat/service trip setting, and it really helped me to feel comfortable again and to relax and open up.

All in all, I had a blast spending the weekend with the students, and had one of the most meaningful volunteer experiences in my life. With all said and done, it brought me new life, renewed purpose, and some confidence to carry me forward for the rest of the year.

I tried to bring a little Cabrini with me to the experience, including this prayer  we shared during our Search meetings and on Project Appalachia last year which has always resonated profoundly with me and I thought fit the weekend's mission.

Look around you people of God

Look around you

Who is the person sitting next to you?

The person next to you is the greatest miracle and the greatest mystery you will ever meet, at this moment a testament of the Word made flesh, of God’s continuing Advent into the world, into our midst.

The person next to you is a unique universe of experience, alive with necessity and possibility, dread and desire, comedy and tragedy, fear and hope.

The person next to you longs to become something in particular, to arrive at some destination, to tell or sing a story, to be known and to know.

The person next to you believes in something, stands for something, counts for something, labors for something, runs for something, waits for something.

The person next to you is a whole colony of persons met during his lifetime, a community in which still loves a mother and father, a friend, an enemy.

The person next to you can do some things well, some better than most; there is something her one life on earth means and cares for; does she speak of this to you?

The person next to you can live with you, not just alongside; he can live for you as well as for himself; he can confront, encounter and esteem you—if you want him to; in turn, his point of view can be appreciated by others.

The person next to you cannot be fully understood; she is more than any description or explanation; she can never be fully controlled.

The person next to you is a mystery—as the word made flesh is a mystery.

And the word was made flesh and dwelt among us.

So people of God

Look around you

For God is here.

Freshman Retreat

Looking back on the blog I just realized I never wrote about the Freshman Retreat we held on October 6th and 7th. October has just really gotten away from me due to the zaniness of service hours, planning for Urban Plunge, looking at a few personal statements, and just life at Casa DK. It's been tough to carve out time for myself to write amidst everything so I just lost track of things. But it's a slow day in Campus Min this morning so I'll tell you a little bit about.

Well, as most of you probably know, Verbum Dei is a Jesuit High School. Dedicated to making men "with and for others" and all that Ignatian stuff. Another thing the school is big on is promoting brotherhood, which I believe I mentioned in my post about homecoming.  So the theme of the Freshman Retreat was just that--brotherhood. I have the fun benefit of my job in being a part of Campus Ministry staff meetings with Krista, director of Christian Service, Karen, Campus Minsiter, and two other teachers who are also part of the Campus Min staff, EJ and Miss Lawler (who is from Philadelphia and also new to the area and only ever calls me Mr. Rooney. She's hilarious and quirky and one of my favorite people at the school). Anyway, we were working on Freshman Retreat for a while, well, I was present in the planning though I didn't do all that much in terms of input.  

So Saturday the 6th rolled around and I hopped in Barney (our trusty purple four runner, generously provided for us by Verb) and drove to school.

There were a number of activities throughout the day. Some group bonding games and things like that. There were also two talks; one from Mr. Traber (a former major league baseball player) on true and false brotherhood, and another by a student. There were small group sessions after the talks. My job was more to assist the small group leader (one of the JEDIS; the Campus Ministry student leaders) and to try to keep things on task.

Leading a small group of high school freshmen in a small group discussion is basically a Sisyphisian effort. Especially these kids. The difference in behavior between the first years and the seniors is especially sharp at Verbum Dei, due to its population and the amount of discipline and responsibility they have students take for their actions and grades. The group had a hard time paying attention, concentrating, or answering the questions, but I did notice a bit of a change by the end of the night.

The weekend was the first time I started to realize I am working with people much less mature than I'm used to--I know that I'm working in a high school but often I forget what that means; even the seniors are still very immature and have a lot of growing to do! It was kind of a revelation and made my reaction to things a bit more relaxed.

One of the coolest things about the retreat was listening to the senior and junior JEDIS tell their experiences at the school and explain the great things it's done for them. The student who gave his talk explained that at Verb he felt for the first time true friendship and for the first time had a real support system and people who had his back. He related that through a story about his mother getting very ill. The student whose group I sat in on also spent a lot of time explaining to the freshmen how fortunate they are to be at Verbum Dei and to have the opportunities they do before them: invested faculty, work experience, and a real sense of brotherhood and support among classmates. I don't think a lot of other schools can claim to be about brotherhood or building relationships among students in the way this school does. The staff so often tells the students that they are brothers, that each of their classmates is there to help lift each other up. It's very empowering and it certainly was not my high school experience.

Perhaps the most entertaining experience for me was watching my small group perform the trust walk activity. The JEDI leader led the guys in a train around campus while each of them was blindfolded. They did not perform this task well at all. None of them knew how to close their mouths and listen to directions from the leader, nor did they know how to help each other out. Instead they yelled at one another, constantly asked where they were or otherwise horsed around. It was quite amusing. They were led over benches, under railings, and walked all around campus.

In the end though, I think it was for the best that they didn't do well--I think it brought the lesson home even more. Where are you in a relationship without trust? And how can you trust without communication, listening, and comfort with the people around you? I think it made them think about the nature of trust and it's probably not something that comes easily to a lot of these boys. It would be interesting to see them do this same activity in four years.

For the most part, Verbum Dei does a great job in promoting and maintaing pride in the school among the students. And I believe it's experiences like this that manage that; challenging and encouraging the students to really own their experience and to put their faith in one another, when so many of them probably have lots of reasons not to trust other people is really very profound.

The seniors wrote letters to freshmen and I had to skim through them to make sure they were appropriate. While some of them were eye rollingly generic, a fair number of them were heartfelt and welcoming. A lot of them wrote about how they close they've grown to classmates and what great friendships they've formed in there years at the school.

There was also great food! For lunch on Saturday we got Subway sandwiches (oh how I love sandwiches)  and dinner were chicken enchiladas from a delicious Mexican place owned by family of one of the staff people. I could have eaten them forever.

Sunday morning there was another moving moment; and that was at the end of the mass. The closing song was "Lean on Me," which was just so incredibly fitting. And the absolute best part, maybe of the whole weekend, was hearing pretty much all of the guys sing along and a lot of them wrap their arms over their neighbor's shoulders as they sang together.

All in all, it was a privilege to be there and experience this and to be a part of this institution that does such good things for these kids and the community. It was one of the first times I really felt like I was part of something special, even if I didn't do much. I was glad to witness a small part of these students' lives.

Service Forms and Renweb and Urban Compass and...hooboy.

My job in the Christian Service these last two weeks has been incredibly busy--and not necessarily the fun kind of busy...lots of data entry! Ahhhh, nothing like staring at an Excel spreadsheet all day. Each student that goes here is required to do 5 service hours a quarter, and the due date for the first quarter hours was last Friday. So, naturally, everyone waited for the last minute! I was constantly getting another pile of five-ten independent service forms to put into our spreadsheet that keeps track of student hours. At least I didn't have to make the spreadsheet! It's kind of overwhelming...I hate clutter; it stresses me out. So having those blue forms all over my desk, along with the Urban Compass hour sheets has been excruciating!

I never thought about the implications of procrastinating and the effect it has on teachers or the people that you turn things into last minute. So I'm apologizing for my part in adding to that stress!
I've also had to call and confirm a lot of the independent hours students have turned in to make sure these students did what they said they were doing. I'm not good at phones so this has been an anxious thing for me, but it's certainly getting easier. Life skills, I suppose.

Hmmm...just mentioned Urban Compass without explaining what that is: Urban Compass is an afterschool program for kids in the local community--Nickerson Gardens, the projects (they're called housing developments now I believe). It's a safe and fun place for these kids to have some play time and to do their homework. My casamate Meg works there and the program is located on Verb's campus so we commute together every day. It sounds like an awesome program and the kids sound like a riot (even if they are a handful). Students at Verb often get their service hours done there after school by helping out in the afternoons. I get forms from them every day to put into the Excel sheet.

I also have to track the hours on this program called RenWeb which is basically the central hub for the school's data. Grades, community service hours, parent and student information, schedules...I've had to familiarize myself with it as every Thursday and Friday I have to hand out reminder slips to students about their Saturday Service forms.

So I've been really bogged down in the mornings in the Christian Service office these last few weeks as the quarter came to a close but it'll be slowing down a bit soon...at least until December when second quarter ends!

What do I have to offer?

I continue to struggle. At my job, as a community member, as a boyfriend, as a son, a brother, a friend. Coming here--picking myself up and suddenly planting myself across the country with no one  and nothing familiar for thousands of miles--I never realized it would be hard. Somehow, I believed in myself. My strengths, my skills, my abilities, myself as a whole. Life, for the first time in many years, was very, very good before I left for California. I had never been so fulfilled, felt so loved, felt so confident in myself. I had purpose, I was great at school, I had a job I loved, some friends, a  brand new relationship, and I felt more confident and more full of life than I've ever been. Ever.

I'm told I was outgoing as a child, lively, gregarious, more than my older brother or sister. And then it disappeared. I got sick and anything that made me anything was gone. I couldn't live a life at all--I've floated through "friendships" most of my life. Different groups who I never felt connected to. Not really. I mean, I tried. I've put my whole self into so many different groups of people but I've almost never felt like I succeeded in making those connections I wanted. After a while when it continues not to stick you begin to feel unwanted. I have a handful of people who I can say I feel very close to--that I have made that sort of connection with. I think a lot about who from Cabrini I would still see if I were in the area--who I'll still see when I move back home next year. I don't know who would be on that list. Even last year at the height of my upward journey these last few years I was plagued by these thoughts--that inability to connect. It's creeping back up again now--I'll connect this in a few minutes. Anyway. The point I was originally trying to make is that last year I thought I had recaptured that spirit of who I "used to be." That I had overcome these challenges, that I wasn't so shy, that I had a lot to offer people, talents, gifts, whatever you want to call them.

And then I came here.

I don't know what I have to offer. I am quite honestly incapable of seeing what I had last year. It's all left me so quickly. I'm trying to recapture it, scramble to put the pieces back together. I feel like I've just failed in every aspect of this experience so far. I don't know how to talk to people. I don't know how to connect with anyone. I don't know how to bring myself to my job or into my community.

And it terrifies me. What if I never reach that point? I know who I am, and right now I am not that person. I am not happy, I am not funny, I am not lively or optimistic or driven. I don't know what I bring to my community; I feel like a burden more than anything else. I don't know how to talk to anyone in the house, at my work--staff or student. Maybe I just need more time than everyone else. But it's heartbreaking and exhausting to have hit this wall so suddenly. To be the only one who is apparently struggling so much. I was on top of the world and suddenly I've fallen so far--I feel the way I did when I started college. I can't deal with this self-doubt and fear. I don't know what it stems from--maybe it's what I talked about earlier. The fact that I've never felt like I had a place, a group that really accepted me--not for many years, at least. I've struggled so long for that and I don't know that I ever really found it at Cabrini. And it's been such a continual theme in my life that I guess I've learned to think it has to be something about me.

See, I'm falling into old habits. This negative thinking. It's a trap that is just self-fulfilling and self-sustaining. I know the things I'm saying aren't even true--I've got a group of friends at home. A best friend. I've got a fantastic girlfriend, a caring family. And yet.....did I ever have that "group" of friends at school that ever involved me in plans? Did anyone ever take me into consideration? Do I have that little to offer?

Or was I simply failing in communicating my need for that?

I think it must be the latter because I continue to struggle with it. I can't break myself out of my own head at work, at the house. I see opportunities and shy away from them. Why do I do that? What is wrong with me? Do I fear getting hurt? Do I fear that I have nothing to give them? Nothing anyone has to benefit from what I have to say?

Maybe.

I don't know. I don't know why I'm so unhappy. I don't know why I have suddenly reverted back to this person I was who is incapable of simple human interaction. It's negatively effecting a lot of things. I know it is. I could be doing so much more at work. I could be forming friendships in my house that I see everyone else developing. I could be doing more to communicate with people at home: my parents, Sara, Matt, Kevin, Bridget, even Jack. People at Cabrini.

I am outside of all of this. Like I have so often felt in my life. I hate it.

I don't know how to overcome it. I know it's just a matter of "doing" but why is that so hard? What keeps me at that distance? What do I fear in connecting with others? I knew that would be a difficulty this year, but I didn't think it would be a debilitating one. I knew it was something I wanted to work through by living in community but I never expected it to leave me struggling at work, with my already existing relationships.

I have trouble waking up in the morning because I dread the amount of effort I have to exert every day to simply be among people. This is not healthy. There's probably something seriously wrong with it, actually. I need to change something. I just wish I knew how to do it, or that I weren't so afraid.

I don't know why I'm letting everyone see this. Maybe I just need to. Maybe it's just time everyone knew what my whole life has been. So often these debates rattle in my head.

I still think things will get better. I just don't want to waste any time. As long as a year sounds I'm realizing that it isn't all that long at all and I want to have made something from this experience, but at this rate there's a danger of  never reaching that point.

I've thought on several occassions what the point of being here at all is, but I think I would never be able to live with myself if I went home. Too many what-ifs...hopefully in the end it won't have been a wasted effort. I won't have wasted my time or this school's time or the time of my community mates and loved ones at home.

Something's got to change...and I need to change it. Somehow.

Further Simple Living

We had our first casa discussion on simple living--while we did not make any concrete decisions, it was the first time we truly talked about it as a community. Our program coordinator Glenn is staying with us  for a week--as a support, a checkup, etc, after the first two months. He read us a brief passage and gave us a list of questions about simple living to reflect on. This is what I wrote.

What Glenn read us tonight brings a new thought about simple living, a moment of clairvoyance or connection for me, if you will--the distillation of things to be more grateful of our gifts. The true gifts: our life, our opportunities, health. This moment. This day. This, I did not realize is what speaks to me most about simple living-- the joy I found in my service immersion experiences, traveling to these places where each average, every day gift we take advantage of is something to cherish was the greatest gift of those weeks. It is how I've tried to live my life since the morning I awoke from my surgery and the pain that had been constant for ten, twelve years was gone. Every day I remember that pain, the exhaustion Crohn's brought me and every day these last four years has been a gift. I have been so thankful for the new life of energy and joy I have discovered these last few years. New friends, new experiences; new life every day.

From simple living I hope to examine the depths of those gifts more deeply. Where joy lies beyond the every day conveniences we rely on--soft clothes from the dryer, long, hot showers, clean dishes in minutes. To find joy in my lifelong circumstance perhaps in contrast to the boys at Verb or the people without homes on Skid Row.

My life has been an inward one due to illness for so long and so my hobbies involve collection and consumption. Collecting comic books, DVDs, toys, video games. Where is the true joy in my life, where have I found it beyond these things which are fun, at times inspiring, but in the end, unnecessary. I want to examine my place, my gifts, and learn more deeply all there is to be thankful for.

Joy without money. Life without consumption.

Perhaps a better world in the end. If we all lived more simply, would jealousy end? Could conflict be forgotten? Simple living to be a better citizen, friend, neighbor, boyfriend, son. To be open in my heart to relationships on a personal level, a global level, and then maybe I could make a difference--if only one time. If only for one person.

Before this year I thought often about how I would save for things I wanted this year. Things down the line. A couple action figures, some movies. But this year already I am feeling the freedom from that desire for constant consumption, my completionist and collection oriented mind. It is October 11 and I have spent only $5. And that was on a Subway sandwich. I don't feel the compulsion for these things like I did before this year began. Simple living is freeing--a  liberation from the consumerism of our daily life, a countercultural space to defy the values of our society. I have no desire to spend my money or stipend at this moment on anything beyond maybe food, maybe for some sightseeing or during my visits to Sara. But on frivolous things for the sake of a collection? The itch is subsiding, but not completely absent. It is a value I can see carrying on beyond this year.

I sometimes struggle with the why behind some of the things I've chosen to do for simple living--hanging clothes to dry, turning off lights behind me, using less water. But this year is a place to explore the impact of my decisions, perhaps if only as an act of understanding my place in comparison to others. This year is perhaps above anything else a year of exploration and learning. And the lessons are ongoing.