Why Write?

"This is praying time, and the act of listening in prayer is the same act as listening in writing.”

~Madeleine L’Engle"

So. It has been my intention to write something at least every week--write about things happening, write about a theme, a question. I haven't given much overview of what's happened so far--but is that really the point? I imagine I'll get to it at some point.

Many people when they start this kind of journey say "I'll start a blog...I'll keep people up to date or vent." The written word is a powerful and wonderful tool. My abilities with it are one of the few things that I am very proud of myself for. I write for more than just letting people know what's going on. I've been meaning to journal as well-- I haven't been doing that as much as I'd like. Things have been so up-in-the-air nonstop crazy I haven't been able to sit down and digest or reflect. I don't want to write just to write about what I did or give an outline of what I'm doing. Perhaps that will happen, but I write because I must.

Writing is personal, it is an extension of one's true self, their inner-being. When we write, our guard comes down--the act of solidifying our experience into a visible representation makes us vulnerable, allows the words to be shared--either with others or simply with the page. Either way, writing allows us to express where spoken words might fail.

Last year at Cabrini we started a Prayer 101 program--one of the things I discovered in that experience was that anything can be prayer with the right intention. Our actions can be prayer, our day-to-day experience can be prayer (the Jesuits and St. Ignatius are big fans of this, I've learned--"God in all things.") I did a session on journaling and did some research on what people had to say about journaling as prayer, and it made me realize even more deeply why writing is so important to me. Even if I am not writing out prayers or reflecting on scripture, my writing can be a prayer if I am making myself open to God. My fiction can be a prayer, this blog entry can be a prayer.

And so, in this new year and this new and frankly quite scary journey I will need to write--to share, to make myself vulnerable to God and to others, because that is the only way I will be able to find the strength to prevail. We have to allow ourselves to be weak in order to overcome. I open myself up in this act of writing in order to persevere.

In my preparation for that journaling prayer session at Cabrini I found this quote that puts it into words better than I ever could:

I write with brutal, tear-stained honesty the agony of right now because when the path is easy, it is also easy to forget the pain so deep that one cannot breathe...

I journal because one day someone will follow behind me, and when they are in the place of such pain their very being is filled with it, I don't want to forget where they are or how they feel. I don't want to forget the desperate need of a kind word, a soft shoulder, and a loving touch.

I never want to add wounds because I have forgotten the pain of my own.

I journal so I can understand where people are by where I've been and recall the hand of God in my heartache so I can be His hands in theirs.

-Jerri Phillips

A Step Along The Way

At orientation we had prayer or reflection every morning. One day we read through one of my very favorite prayers, the prayer of Archbishop Oscar Romero, sometimes titled "A Step Along The Way." You can see the full prayer here. It's worth your time.

I reflected about it and related a lot to the commitment to social justice that has been instilled in me at Cabrini and that I am looking to strengthen in the year to come, in light of a lot of what they were saying to us at orientation.

We cannot do everything/knowing this allows us to do something and do it well.

One thing I've always struggled with since being introduced to social justice issues at Cabrini is the temptation to take up and care about every cause. What I quickly discovered is that you just can't do that. It's exhausting and takes a huge toll if you let every injustice constantly weigh on you. You can't feel guilty for every decision and if you let social justice consume you there is a real danger of not living at all; being wrapped up in guilt and powerlessness. There is nothing wrong with being privileged and making the most of those advantages. We have to draw a line somewhere and accept we cannot make all change alone. But we can be a part of it.

We are the workers, not master builders. We are ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.

Are unaware people lesser? No. Are my parents bad people because they utilize their economic privilege that they work hard to maintain? Of course not. We cannot be perennially guilty. I felt at times in orientation that I was being guilted for all my choices, for enjoying my comforts. But that's not it, really. I was projecting my own guilt.

JVC is challenging me, particularly for this oncoming year, to question everything and to make my own decisions. I should consider the effects all my choices have on other people. Privilege is not inherently oppressive (though Marx would disagree with me) it is how we utilize our faculties that really matters. Ultimately, as the prayer says, we are merely workers. My efforts this year alone do nothing in isolation. I won't change the social structure by helping one kid or even fifty kids get into college.

But maybe my actions will help others learn from their hardship and story. Maybe I can be a voice for just a few of the voiceless. If I spread their stories maybe those people will spread it and perhaps others will wait to take up and pursue the JVC mission. Who knows?

But I don't believe helping only one person is a useless effort. Helping one person changes the world. I don't know if someone famous is credited with saying that, but it's what I believe. I recall the story of the boy and the starfish that my friend Cathy introduced me to.

One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed
a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean. 

Approaching the boy, he asked, "What are you doing?"

The youth replied, "Throwing starfish back into the ocean.
The surf is up and the tide is going out.  If I don't throw them back, they'll die."

"Son," the man said, "don't you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish?
You can't make a difference!"

After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish,
and threw it back into the surf.  Then, smiling at the man, he said,
"I made a difference for that one."

Maybe I've always been more interested with service on the micro level than the macro level. But that doesn't change my devotion and hope for a better world. We are prophets of a future not our own. I cannot change the world on my own, but I will recognize where I can make a difference. My choices do matter. I don't have to buy Nike shoes and support sweatshops. I can purchase Fair Trade and benefit small farmers. I can buy locally and support local businesses.  But would I be a horrible person if I didn't? I don't think so. Would I be guilty of ignorance? Maybe. But that doesn't equate to being unjust.

It's a difficult balance, finding the just thing to do in a world where so much is unfair. It's something I struggle with and will continue to struggle with, particularly as I try to live simply this year when I have to make hard choices between what is affordable and what is more "right." I'm already learning that the world is unfairly balanced against the poor. That the unhealthy, the mass-manufactured, is the only thing available to so many people simply by virtue of their economic status. 50 cents is an enormous difference in this world for many people.

My hope with this blog is that I can be the step along the way through my words...that I can be just one of many workers that will help make this world better. But if all I am able to accomplish is helping one boy at my high school...well, that's OK too.