Spending many years going to and living in countries outside the US prepares you for diversity in culture, language and standards of living; what is does not prepare you for is returning home. Returning to the scene of the crime, which was my former life in America, has left me flummoxed at best.
When I travel to a new country I tend to read about the place, sample the foods and experience the literature of those nations before I ever set foot on terra firma. Such activities feed my inner nerd and help me dive deeper into different societies and resurface with a richer understanding and love for the paradoxes and people of those nations. This exercise has lead to many years of enjoyment even though I was for all intensive purposes out of my element. What I forgot to do was apply these same practices in an intentional manner before returning to the US.
After spending my first weeks in America, I have to honestly say that I have suffered the most extreme culture shock I can remember. It is not that I have gone native in other countries, because I am very much an adopted outsider at best, but I realize that I am have also become and outside to the country of my birth. I did not prepare myself for stepping into an election year, Reality TV overload, the writer’s strike, new slang, celebrity focus, or US lifestyle. Sure I considered my friends lives being different and having to adapt to changes there, but the rest hit me like the wall of humidity one encounters when you leave the airport in Manila. I was so not prepared for this!
I am coping with all of this by laughing at myself and a limited sampling of US news. I tend to chuckle when I find myself looking for light switches in odd places and occasionally I pause to determine which side of the car is the driver’s side. I try to remind myself that what I see on TV is only part of the reality of America and choose to dive deeper into literature and intentional relationships. I do, however, find that I must resurface for air more often as I try to swim through American culture in 2008.
One thing I must say is that I have amazing friends. Time does not change or warp those heart friends that just get me and love me for the mess that I am. They are the core group of people who see me for who I am not for where I have been or not been in the grand scheme of things. Somehow we continue to see each other and that always makes me feel at home no matter where in the world I find myself.
Sunday 27 January 2008
Friday 4 January 2008
Miraculous Moments
A series of moments strung together form the incandescent splendor that we call life. Every one is unique much like pearls held together by the beautiful clasps that are both the beginning and the ending of our visit here on earth. Moments become memories we can gaze at and hold in place as we eagerly anticipate the next gem to be added. Often though in our rush to attain the next “thing” we miss the beauty of what we are experiencing in the now. There is a joy to inhabiting the preciousness of each bead before adding it to our collective memory. To be able to touch, tastes, see, hear and smell everything locked within is an opportunity to dance with the miraculous in the daily and mundane. For example:
When ferrying across the English Channel, I sat reading a book I eagerly desired to finish that day. I can easily tune out the world when I have book in front of me. It is one of my favorite escapes and soothers of my soul, when I am a bit frazzled. I was reading a book that so echoed my personal feelings, self-examination and transitioning, so I was dining on every word on the page trying to savor each insight and digesting many revealed truths. I came to the place where the author used a word that fit me perfectly and in a way I felt discovered. I was about to dive back into the book when I was interrupted by a moment.
Sitting at the table next to ours was a family with two ever moving boys under the ages of 4. The parents were exhausted from chasing after their children over the vastness of dining area; we were 25 minutes away from ending a two hours journey and the parents were desperately clinging to the promise that they could soon re-contain their energetic children in the car. The youngest who was about 18 months old, decided to play this game where he would jump from a chair onto the booth, peek over at me then laugh ….loudly.
His laughter robbed me of my focus. I smiled at him and laughed, which only seemed to make him laugh and scream with glee. I laughed too and his excitement over my half-baked attention. He turned away and left the booth and I sighed before bowing my head and descending back to the words. I scanned the page to find where I stopped, found it and started to – peels of laughter echoed in my ears, the boy was back staring at me waiting. So I looked up smiled at him and he just squealed and flashed me the sweetest smile. In that moment he was offering me something that was fleeting and beautiful in his playfulness. My book was looming on my lap, but here was this little person offering me an opportunity to celebrate the epiphany I gleaned only seconds before. So I decided to hold the moment and drink it in. The little one was delighted that he found a fresh audience for his antics and kept repeating his trek between the chair and the booth.
After her sons fifth journey and escalating laughter, the mom leaned over to her equally exhausted husband and suggested that he stop their so I could read my book. I had my out, but I decided to decline. I mentioned that playing this game was more fun than reading, and it was true. This little kid opened the door to remaining in the joy of now, to capitalize on the joy I experienced from reading. He was the cherry on top and I decided to enjoy it rather than plough on to the next ah-ha. We laughed and giggled for about 20 minutes, next thing I knew the captain was making the announcement of our docking in Dover. The moment was closing, but it was fully experienced. Just before the family rushed back to their car, they walked around to the table and wished me a Merry Christmas. I felt a rush of something that was powerful but sweet.
As they walked away, I thought about what I could have missed if I stuck to my plan of finishing the book. The book would be with me for as long as I desired, but the shared laughter was only offered once. It made me think how much I miss when I am focused on the incoming goals, experience or project, oblivious to what is happening in my universe in this moment at this time. It is nothing I do not know or teach even, but that little boy gave me my best Christmas gift; a reminder to relish every opportunity to celebrate what I am experiencing. That opens the door to discovering the miraculous waiting to be found in the moment.
When ferrying across the English Channel, I sat reading a book I eagerly desired to finish that day. I can easily tune out the world when I have book in front of me. It is one of my favorite escapes and soothers of my soul, when I am a bit frazzled. I was reading a book that so echoed my personal feelings, self-examination and transitioning, so I was dining on every word on the page trying to savor each insight and digesting many revealed truths. I came to the place where the author used a word that fit me perfectly and in a way I felt discovered. I was about to dive back into the book when I was interrupted by a moment.
Sitting at the table next to ours was a family with two ever moving boys under the ages of 4. The parents were exhausted from chasing after their children over the vastness of dining area; we were 25 minutes away from ending a two hours journey and the parents were desperately clinging to the promise that they could soon re-contain their energetic children in the car. The youngest who was about 18 months old, decided to play this game where he would jump from a chair onto the booth, peek over at me then laugh ….loudly.
His laughter robbed me of my focus. I smiled at him and laughed, which only seemed to make him laugh and scream with glee. I laughed too and his excitement over my half-baked attention. He turned away and left the booth and I sighed before bowing my head and descending back to the words. I scanned the page to find where I stopped, found it and started to – peels of laughter echoed in my ears, the boy was back staring at me waiting. So I looked up smiled at him and he just squealed and flashed me the sweetest smile. In that moment he was offering me something that was fleeting and beautiful in his playfulness. My book was looming on my lap, but here was this little person offering me an opportunity to celebrate the epiphany I gleaned only seconds before. So I decided to hold the moment and drink it in. The little one was delighted that he found a fresh audience for his antics and kept repeating his trek between the chair and the booth.
After her sons fifth journey and escalating laughter, the mom leaned over to her equally exhausted husband and suggested that he stop their so I could read my book. I had my out, but I decided to decline. I mentioned that playing this game was more fun than reading, and it was true. This little kid opened the door to remaining in the joy of now, to capitalize on the joy I experienced from reading. He was the cherry on top and I decided to enjoy it rather than plough on to the next ah-ha. We laughed and giggled for about 20 minutes, next thing I knew the captain was making the announcement of our docking in Dover. The moment was closing, but it was fully experienced. Just before the family rushed back to their car, they walked around to the table and wished me a Merry Christmas. I felt a rush of something that was powerful but sweet.
As they walked away, I thought about what I could have missed if I stuck to my plan of finishing the book. The book would be with me for as long as I desired, but the shared laughter was only offered once. It made me think how much I miss when I am focused on the incoming goals, experience or project, oblivious to what is happening in my universe in this moment at this time. It is nothing I do not know or teach even, but that little boy gave me my best Christmas gift; a reminder to relish every opportunity to celebrate what I am experiencing. That opens the door to discovering the miraculous waiting to be found in the moment.
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