Lent has been fruitful for me. From the beginning of the season I noticed God telling in prayer, in dreams, to rest. During an hour retreat on Ash Wednesday I noticed that my built fatigue allowed my shoulders to remain a little higher than normal in a state of tension rather than ease. What my body, what my whole self craved was what God was inviting me to... to rest, completely rest in Divine Love.
Wavering at times, but persistent in my desire to inhale and exhale and trust enough in our Abundant Creator to allow my shoulders to relax, God has led me to rest this lent.
My spiritual director asked me where exactly God was leading me to. "Home." I answered. "To an intimate, secure, place where I feel the soil beneath my bare toes and the suns rays on my face, and warmth." "Do you feel any tension or worries in this place where God is leading you." I closed my eyes to see. "None. I'm simly delighting in it."
That is where God's leading me during this lent. Closer to Home.
With you,
Luisely
Showing posts with label mending two realities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mending two realities. Show all posts
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Back for Christmas
I walked into the nursing home I used to visit in the summer, since I'm back in town for Christmas. A plastic Christmas tree with white and blue lights decorating it sat in the corner while Christmas songs spewed from the radio. There they were the beauties I left in the summer. Robert sat on the living room sofa gazing off into a distant place. Helena walking in all her elegance with gold Mardi Gras beads and a red Christmas sweater. Her eyes lit up as she approached me. "Do you remember Luisely, Helena?" the nursing home event director asked her. "Yeah, yeah. " She came within an inch distance from my eyes smiling and with her soft hands caressed my face, "As beautiful as ever." I smiled, she remembered. She sat on her walker's pop-out stool and began her stories in German, as I listened attentively straining to find any resemblance to English. Her eyes vividly shared the emotions felt in the story. She leaned closer to me and let her nose touch mine and began rubbing her nose against mine. We laughed and laughed. I began singing to her and she sang along in German. I missed her.
I continued forward and met a few new faces, as some others died leaving room for them. Mary sat with two balls of pink yarn looking at them perplexed. I introduced myself and asked her if she planned on knitting anything. "Oh no, no. This is a cube and this is a ball. T.t.t.t.tttttt.ttttttt." Her frail hands colored dark blue from her veins handed one of the balls of yarn to me as she searched for the newspaper. Her eyes lay deep into their ocular cavities. Mary began describing all the liquor advertised on the page between mumbles, "This bottle's round and this one, you see, this one is long and this one costs $19.99 and this one $47.99." We sat and reviewed the bottles for a little less than half an hour. Rebecca sat next to us and began singing Christmas carols looking towards me for company. I sat between them both singing away, baffled at Rebecca's memory. Rebecca cannot remember how many children she has and remembers every word to "O Holy Night." Mary interrupted, "Are you listening to me?" "Yes, Mary I'm listening." With a sigh of relief Mary continued explaining each bottle of vodka, brandy, and rum on the page.
In the television room I met Margaret and William. William, a strapping old man, opened with, "Are you going to give me a bath?" "No, I'm not." "Would you like to give me a bath?" he questioned with a grin. "No, sir." William had been sitting in the same sofa for three hours waiting for the nurse from Hospice to come bathe him. "They think I don't remember how long I've been waiting because of my condition. I've lost some of it, not all of it though." He asked me for a tissue to wipe his drool as he told me his stories of his four wives and life in the Air Force and Navy and how he's been sober for 50 years. "I say it was all God. It's not easy to quit, but for me, after trying for so long and never succeeding, one day it just happened. I quit." "It was a miracle." "I guess so," he answered. I asked him about his children and he asked me to stop asking questions, "I have this condition... it begins with L... uh, I can't remember what its called... something that makes me loss my thoughts." "Alzheimer's," I interrupted. "Ah, yes that. One day I was out doing my exercise. Walking around the neighborhood and something came into me and I couldn't stop walking." a pause followed. "That was two years ago. Now I've been to so many homes I couldn't keep track of them. This is my second week here." "Is it annoying to forget?" "Its frustrating."
Before leaving I asked for Lily. The event coordinator told me she'd been sick, but walked me to her room anyway. She entered before me checking to see if Lily's slumber continued. "Lily, you've got a visitor that you haven't seen in a very long time. You want to see her?" I came around the corner and heard her breath change as she saw me. "Oh!" she shrilled. One of her eyes couldn't open, her sweater almost revealed her breasts, and her diaper needed changing. "You're back!" "Yes, ma'am I am." "For how long?" "A whole month!" "Oh good." She rested her head back down on the bed and with a look of embarrassment sighed. "Do you want Luisely to come visit another day Lily?" the coordinator asked. "Mmmhmm." "Okay, Lily see you soon." "I'm glad you came back," she whispered.
Sitting, singing, interpreting, waiting, smelling... the visit reminded me that Kay Pov residents live everywhere. They help me see life.
With you,
Luisely
I continued forward and met a few new faces, as some others died leaving room for them. Mary sat with two balls of pink yarn looking at them perplexed. I introduced myself and asked her if she planned on knitting anything. "Oh no, no. This is a cube and this is a ball. T.t.t.t.tttttt.ttttttt." Her frail hands colored dark blue from her veins handed one of the balls of yarn to me as she searched for the newspaper. Her eyes lay deep into their ocular cavities. Mary began describing all the liquor advertised on the page between mumbles, "This bottle's round and this one, you see, this one is long and this one costs $19.99 and this one $47.99." We sat and reviewed the bottles for a little less than half an hour. Rebecca sat next to us and began singing Christmas carols looking towards me for company. I sat between them both singing away, baffled at Rebecca's memory. Rebecca cannot remember how many children she has and remembers every word to "O Holy Night." Mary interrupted, "Are you listening to me?" "Yes, Mary I'm listening." With a sigh of relief Mary continued explaining each bottle of vodka, brandy, and rum on the page.
In the television room I met Margaret and William. William, a strapping old man, opened with, "Are you going to give me a bath?" "No, I'm not." "Would you like to give me a bath?" he questioned with a grin. "No, sir." William had been sitting in the same sofa for three hours waiting for the nurse from Hospice to come bathe him. "They think I don't remember how long I've been waiting because of my condition. I've lost some of it, not all of it though." He asked me for a tissue to wipe his drool as he told me his stories of his four wives and life in the Air Force and Navy and how he's been sober for 50 years. "I say it was all God. It's not easy to quit, but for me, after trying for so long and never succeeding, one day it just happened. I quit." "It was a miracle." "I guess so," he answered. I asked him about his children and he asked me to stop asking questions, "I have this condition... it begins with L... uh, I can't remember what its called... something that makes me loss my thoughts." "Alzheimer's," I interrupted. "Ah, yes that. One day I was out doing my exercise. Walking around the neighborhood and something came into me and I couldn't stop walking." a pause followed. "That was two years ago. Now I've been to so many homes I couldn't keep track of them. This is my second week here." "Is it annoying to forget?" "Its frustrating."
Before leaving I asked for Lily. The event coordinator told me she'd been sick, but walked me to her room anyway. She entered before me checking to see if Lily's slumber continued. "Lily, you've got a visitor that you haven't seen in a very long time. You want to see her?" I came around the corner and heard her breath change as she saw me. "Oh!" she shrilled. One of her eyes couldn't open, her sweater almost revealed her breasts, and her diaper needed changing. "You're back!" "Yes, ma'am I am." "For how long?" "A whole month!" "Oh good." She rested her head back down on the bed and with a look of embarrassment sighed. "Do you want Luisely to come visit another day Lily?" the coordinator asked. "Mmmhmm." "Okay, Lily see you soon." "I'm glad you came back," she whispered.
Sitting, singing, interpreting, waiting, smelling... the visit reminded me that Kay Pov residents live everywhere. They help me see life.
With you,
Luisely
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
in the same sea
Beloveds,
I am back from Puerto Rico. I met up with my family about two weeks ago and have not had access to the internet since the last entry, when I ran into a Starbucks in San Juan to write to you. The time with the family fed my soul. My time in the lush island filled my lungs with fresh moist air and my spirit with peace.
The encounter with a more commercial world startled me a bit. My family and I set a few hours apart to buy the materials Rose and Nazareth had asked me to buy to take back to Haiti. While we were there my family took advantage and did some shopping of their own. The lack of congruency with the world lived in Haiti and the whole scene seemed unnatural to me. I must admit, I’m not and haven’t been a lover of the world of commerce or of malls; I tend to avoid them at all costs. Already having confessed that, I felt I needed air and to escape Plaza de Las Americas (the mall we were in). By the time we arrived to the car, my brothers, one with a new hat, the other with a new shirt advocating for mother Earth, were confused. They asked me why I seemed so out of place. I explained to them that in my mind, with the realties I have skimmed, there needs to be a union between the two worlds. We, and all beings, have the right to enjoy beauty in all forms, fashion included, beauty is divine and I see it as a way to find union with God. I also see that we have responsibility in our actions. Where was your hat made? Where was your shirt made? Most probably what were the conditions of those workers and the impact of the environment in making it? You are blessed with the ability and the power to purchase these articles of beauty and with that you have a responsibility. Are we buying simply to consume? Is the item fair trade?
I looked at them through the rear view mirror as we drove out of the parking lot and allowed the air to awaken our senses. Luis’ eyes were full of sadness. “Papito, guilt doesn’t give fruit, nor does shame. I expressed what I was feeling and feel a need to find peace and congruency while living in both realities. We can use this opportunity to decide to change for the times to come.” His eyes filled with hope and determination. Samuel, who wasn’t burdened by any sense of guilt simply said, “I’ll check the tag and ask if it’s fair trade next time.” The wind continued in our faces as we continued on our journey.
“Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more” (Luke 12: 48).
I am back in Jean Rabel, and to my surprise have my head and heart where my feet are. Before leaving Puerto Rico I confessed to the family that I felt so much serenity with them in Puerto Rico that I wasn’t sure how I would feel upon arriving here again. Mami calmly stated, “Have faith, your head will be where your feet are.” She was right. Thank God I feel that I am, once again, exactly where I am supposed to be.
With you,
Luisely
P.S.: I haven’t forgotten that I haven’t written about Theater of the Oppressed yet.
I am back from Puerto Rico. I met up with my family about two weeks ago and have not had access to the internet since the last entry, when I ran into a Starbucks in San Juan to write to you. The time with the family fed my soul. My time in the lush island filled my lungs with fresh moist air and my spirit with peace.
The encounter with a more commercial world startled me a bit. My family and I set a few hours apart to buy the materials Rose and Nazareth had asked me to buy to take back to Haiti. While we were there my family took advantage and did some shopping of their own. The lack of congruency with the world lived in Haiti and the whole scene seemed unnatural to me. I must admit, I’m not and haven’t been a lover of the world of commerce or of malls; I tend to avoid them at all costs. Already having confessed that, I felt I needed air and to escape Plaza de Las Americas (the mall we were in). By the time we arrived to the car, my brothers, one with a new hat, the other with a new shirt advocating for mother Earth, were confused. They asked me why I seemed so out of place. I explained to them that in my mind, with the realties I have skimmed, there needs to be a union between the two worlds. We, and all beings, have the right to enjoy beauty in all forms, fashion included, beauty is divine and I see it as a way to find union with God. I also see that we have responsibility in our actions. Where was your hat made? Where was your shirt made? Most probably what were the conditions of those workers and the impact of the environment in making it? You are blessed with the ability and the power to purchase these articles of beauty and with that you have a responsibility. Are we buying simply to consume? Is the item fair trade?
I looked at them through the rear view mirror as we drove out of the parking lot and allowed the air to awaken our senses. Luis’ eyes were full of sadness. “Papito, guilt doesn’t give fruit, nor does shame. I expressed what I was feeling and feel a need to find peace and congruency while living in both realities. We can use this opportunity to decide to change for the times to come.” His eyes filled with hope and determination. Samuel, who wasn’t burdened by any sense of guilt simply said, “I’ll check the tag and ask if it’s fair trade next time.” The wind continued in our faces as we continued on our journey.
“Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more” (Luke 12: 48).
I am back in Jean Rabel, and to my surprise have my head and heart where my feet are. Before leaving Puerto Rico I confessed to the family that I felt so much serenity with them in Puerto Rico that I wasn’t sure how I would feel upon arriving here again. Mami calmly stated, “Have faith, your head will be where your feet are.” She was right. Thank God I feel that I am, once again, exactly where I am supposed to be.
With you,
Luisely
P.S.: I haven’t forgotten that I haven’t written about Theater of the Oppressed yet.
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