I thought I would write a short, last post before I headed out of the Bronx and back out west. It's also the last time I get to write in my current room, so I thought I'd take my parting photo before I move into a new room.
In Jesuit life, you necessarily deal with constant transitions. It's always been one of the harder things for me personally to deal with, because I don't like saying good-bye to people. Part of that probably comes from my mom, since she always cries whenever I leave for the airport terminal. It's her way of saying that she'll miss me and loves me.
But, we pray for each other and wish each other well on the journey ahead, trusting in God's presence in all of our lives. We disperse likes the disciples after Pentecost, seeking to bring God's inspiration and love to the different peoples we minister to. It's a comforting thought for me.
Well, I'm sure you will be hearing from me not soon after I arrive in Spokane. For all who are traveling and moving forward to new phases in their lives, my warm prayers for you as you embark on this new journey. May God's light shine upon you all the days of your life.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Back from a little break
It wasn't my intention to stop writing on the blog for this long, but the end of the school year took quite a toll on me. So, I took a break since I was just mentally exhausted from the constant writing I have been doing.
First, an update on my summer plans. A few weeks ago, I had shared that I would be going to Seattle to work on the 4-weeks-a-Jesuit program that would be starting this year. Unfortunately, the program fell through, and so I have been recently reassigned to work at the Jesuit infirmary in Spokane, WA. Of course, I was very much looking forward to spending time in Seattle, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed to be reassigned. After praying over this new development, however, I feel much more at peace with this decision. I felt that God was telling me that my elder brothers in the infirmary had need of my presence, that I had something to offer them--and, that I had much to learn from them. Being open to the experience, and trusting in God's continued presence and work in my life. So far, in my young Jesuit life, I have found the vow of obedience to be one that has brought me a lot of life, as it has opened me up to possibilities that I would not have envisioned for myself. Indeed, those places which I have been sent have been extremely positive experiences, and I have been able to find great joy. So, I trust that my time in Spokane at the infirmary will be a time of much enrichment and growth for me, and I know that the Jesuits there will be appreciative of my presence.
Now, some upcoming attractions for my blog during the summer:
1) A few months ago, Loyola Press was gracious enough to send me a stack of books for free for my own spiritual reading. I promised to offer reviews of these books, and I intend to follow through on that.
2) Music videos. Well, if I can find a good, quiet place with a piano in it.
3) I love Star Trek, and I love Battlestar Galactica. I might write a few posts about this at some point. Yes, I'm a huge nerd
4) More dance videos...maybe. Last time I posted one, I made the NJN, of which I was not particularly aspiring to be showcased.
5) Finding things to write about that inspire me
First, an update on my summer plans. A few weeks ago, I had shared that I would be going to Seattle to work on the 4-weeks-a-Jesuit program that would be starting this year. Unfortunately, the program fell through, and so I have been recently reassigned to work at the Jesuit infirmary in Spokane, WA. Of course, I was very much looking forward to spending time in Seattle, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed to be reassigned. After praying over this new development, however, I feel much more at peace with this decision. I felt that God was telling me that my elder brothers in the infirmary had need of my presence, that I had something to offer them--and, that I had much to learn from them. Being open to the experience, and trusting in God's continued presence and work in my life. So far, in my young Jesuit life, I have found the vow of obedience to be one that has brought me a lot of life, as it has opened me up to possibilities that I would not have envisioned for myself. Indeed, those places which I have been sent have been extremely positive experiences, and I have been able to find great joy. So, I trust that my time in Spokane at the infirmary will be a time of much enrichment and growth for me, and I know that the Jesuits there will be appreciative of my presence.
Now, some upcoming attractions for my blog during the summer:
1) A few months ago, Loyola Press was gracious enough to send me a stack of books for free for my own spiritual reading. I promised to offer reviews of these books, and I intend to follow through on that.
2) Music videos. Well, if I can find a good, quiet place with a piano in it.
3) I love Star Trek, and I love Battlestar Galactica. I might write a few posts about this at some point. Yes, I'm a huge nerd
4) More dance videos...maybe. Last time I posted one, I made the NJN, of which I was not particularly aspiring to be showcased.
5) Finding things to write about that inspire me
Friday, May 8, 2009
Quotes: Love
Each time anyone comes into contact with us,
they must become different and better people
because of having met us.
We must radiate God's love.
We must know that we have been created for greater things,
not just to be a number in the world,
not just to go for diplomas and degrees,
this work and that work.
We have been created in order to love and to be loved.
Love does not measure...it just gives.
~Mother Teresa
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Quotes: Silence Speaks
Silence speaks, the contemplatives say. But really, I think, silence sorts. An ordering instinct sends people into the hush where the voice can be heard. This is the sorting intelligence of poetry, marked by the unbroken certainty of rhythm, perfect pitch, the placing of things in right order as in metrical form. Not rigid categories, but the recognition of a shape always there but ordinarily obscured by -- what? By noise, which is ourselves trying to do the sorting in an order that may be a heroic effort but is bound to be a fantasy.
Silence, that inspired dealer, takes the day's deck, the life, all in a crazy heap, lays it out, and plays its flawless hand of solitaire, every card in place. Scoops them up, and does it all over again.
~Patricia Hampl
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
A Week of Quotes
Since I am in the midst of finals and papers, I do not have much time this week to write particularly long and thoughtful blog posts. However, I thought I would share a number of quotes this week just to give you some food for thought. I'm one who loves quotes and enjoy the little seeds of wisdom embedded within the words.
Why do I talk about the benefits of failure? Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me.
I was set free, because my greatest fear had already been realized, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.
~J.K. Rowling
Friday, May 1, 2009
The Grace of Vulnerability
A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about a time of darkness that I was experiencing and how that has manifested itself in my past. Fortunately, I know enough about myself to realize that I need to seek someone to talk to. If I don't, it eats away at me internally. I become angry and begin to think that nobody cares about me, that nobody notices what I am going through. At its worst, I enter into utter helplessness and despair--not only do I feel that I have no control of my life, but I think about ways to flee from it. The pains of life become too difficult, and I want to put an end to it.
During my second year of the novitiate, I helped out with a high school retreat, and one of the things that I was struck by was the utter helplessness that many teenagers feel these days. So many are on anti-depressants. So many have thought about suicide. So many have no hope. These teenagers only want to feel accepted, to feel loved--often times, they don't feel that. The world sucks, why bother...
Having been down that road, I can easily empathize with those who feel no hope, no reason to live. But, to hear their pain, to see them lose themselves in a flood of tears as they describe their situation, is also very difficult for me. It reminds me too much of that internal pain I experienced, of those memories that I still carry deep within me.
Yet, in the moment of those tears, of finally being able to give voice to what has been pent up for years and years--they begin that long journey towards what they seek for so desperately in their life. They enter into that pilgrimage towards inner peace, to begin the slow work of inner healing. Only in truly opening themselves up, of having the courage to be vulnerable, are they, are we, able to let go of old wounds, or at least lessen the power in which those past experiences have gripped us with, have imprisoned us in helplessness.
A few weeks ago, I received an e-mail in response to my earlier post. It was that of a mother moved, and concerned, about my words. An anonymous reader that feared the catastrophic damage that I would inflict upon my loved ones if something terrible ever pushed me over the edge. A heart that has endured the most difficult task of making sense of something that seems so utterly senseless--the death of her own son by suicide.
I would never presume, nor could I presently fathom, the deep pain that she has felt.
As a result, I was subsequently touched that she, although we have never met, would be so open and share with me this very difficult experience. In my act of vulnerability, she felt herself invited to be vulnerable with me. Her words were truly gift to me--an act, an image, of God's love extended toward me.
My initial road to healing, indeed, came at a point in my life in which I genuinely felt that I was free enough to be vulnerable, that others gave me attentive ears and truly listened to my pain. I experienced the warm comfort of my peers, the genuine embraces that stemmed from a true understanding of where I was coming from. At this moment of vulnerability, I can honestly say that I experienced and believed, for the first time in my life, the real presence of God at work around me.
We live in a culture, however, in which it is difficult to be vulnerable. Vulnerability and emotions are a sign of weakness. No wonder, then, that so many do not know how to seek help when it is truly needed. "'Be a man; suck it up." How many stories have we heard this past year of fathers taking the lives of their entire family? People do not do this unless they honestly believe this is the only option available.
It is NEVER, EVER, the only option available. Under no circumstances, whatsoever. NEVER, NEVER, EVER, EVER. It is utterly tragic that human beings can come to this point in their lives to believe this to be the only way.
My experience of a deeply and profoundly loving God stems from that experience of in which I saw a glimpse of what true love-in-action looks like, and how God's love is infinitely more awesome than that pretty awesome experience I had. And, I believe we are meant to be those instruments through which God's glory and infinite love becomes manifest here on earth. We need each other; we need each to be that image of God's love.
So that those who are utterly hopeless may experience the miracle of finding hope. And that no other mother has to pick up the pieces of a life tragically taken away from her. AMDG.
"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you." (Matthew 7:7)In these cases, I know I have to ask for help.
During my second year of the novitiate, I helped out with a high school retreat, and one of the things that I was struck by was the utter helplessness that many teenagers feel these days. So many are on anti-depressants. So many have thought about suicide. So many have no hope. These teenagers only want to feel accepted, to feel loved--often times, they don't feel that. The world sucks, why bother...
Having been down that road, I can easily empathize with those who feel no hope, no reason to live. But, to hear their pain, to see them lose themselves in a flood of tears as they describe their situation, is also very difficult for me. It reminds me too much of that internal pain I experienced, of those memories that I still carry deep within me.
Yet, in the moment of those tears, of finally being able to give voice to what has been pent up for years and years--they begin that long journey towards what they seek for so desperately in their life. They enter into that pilgrimage towards inner peace, to begin the slow work of inner healing. Only in truly opening themselves up, of having the courage to be vulnerable, are they, are we, able to let go of old wounds, or at least lessen the power in which those past experiences have gripped us with, have imprisoned us in helplessness.
A few weeks ago, I received an e-mail in response to my earlier post. It was that of a mother moved, and concerned, about my words. An anonymous reader that feared the catastrophic damage that I would inflict upon my loved ones if something terrible ever pushed me over the edge. A heart that has endured the most difficult task of making sense of something that seems so utterly senseless--the death of her own son by suicide.
I would never presume, nor could I presently fathom, the deep pain that she has felt.
As a result, I was subsequently touched that she, although we have never met, would be so open and share with me this very difficult experience. In my act of vulnerability, she felt herself invited to be vulnerable with me. Her words were truly gift to me--an act, an image, of God's love extended toward me.
My initial road to healing, indeed, came at a point in my life in which I genuinely felt that I was free enough to be vulnerable, that others gave me attentive ears and truly listened to my pain. I experienced the warm comfort of my peers, the genuine embraces that stemmed from a true understanding of where I was coming from. At this moment of vulnerability, I can honestly say that I experienced and believed, for the first time in my life, the real presence of God at work around me.
We live in a culture, however, in which it is difficult to be vulnerable. Vulnerability and emotions are a sign of weakness. No wonder, then, that so many do not know how to seek help when it is truly needed. "'Be a man; suck it up." How many stories have we heard this past year of fathers taking the lives of their entire family? People do not do this unless they honestly believe this is the only option available.
It is NEVER, EVER, the only option available. Under no circumstances, whatsoever. NEVER, NEVER, EVER, EVER. It is utterly tragic that human beings can come to this point in their lives to believe this to be the only way.
My experience of a deeply and profoundly loving God stems from that experience of in which I saw a glimpse of what true love-in-action looks like, and how God's love is infinitely more awesome than that pretty awesome experience I had. And, I believe we are meant to be those instruments through which God's glory and infinite love becomes manifest here on earth. We need each other; we need each to be that image of God's love.
So that those who are utterly hopeless may experience the miracle of finding hope. And that no other mother has to pick up the pieces of a life tragically taken away from her. AMDG.
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