dig narrative

I remember how my father used to lecture me when I was a child. Whether I made my sister cry or made her cry a lot he always asked, “If someone did that to you, would you like it?” That has always stuck with me, this idea of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. Throughout most of my life I like to think that I always felt for the outcast, for the loser, or for anyone going through tough times. I may not have been through what they have been through, but I put myself in their shoes and could feel sympathy, a desire to help them. I guess this is why I decided to go on a Habitat For Humanity trip during the Spring Break of 2008. I remember meeting the future owner of the house, the look of thankfulness and joy on her face. I remember feeling good, feeling good about the time I spent, and the work I did. I decided then and there that I would go the following year as well. Spring Break of 2009 rolled around and I was ready to take a break from school, to build a house, to feel good about myself. The group was a little bit smaller this year, about 20 kids piled into 5 cars, and we headed down to Winston-Salem, NC. Something struck me as different this time around. I got to know the group I was building the house with, even though we spent 5-6 hours working every day we spent the rest of the day together as well. Last year I felt as though I were working alone, a lone hammer striking in nails, but this time I noticed that we were a team pounding our hammers together in unison for this person whom we’ve never met, but loved. We worked together, ate together, lived together, and loved together. The atmosphere of community surrounded us as well; the community of Winston-Salem received us with open arms and we could not help, but to embrace back. Churches fed us chicken-pot pie until we were content and making sure we didn’t go hungry after they gave us leftovers, one of the churches had children that put on a talent show for us making us laugh feeding our souls, kind, old ladies mothered us by cooking a home cooked meal of lasagna and garlic bread topping it all off with baked brownies with ice cream on top. We became closer as a fellowship, as a community; we laughed together as we played card games, as inside jokes formed, pointed fingers at each other in the bloodthirsty, accusing game of mafia. I realized that this is what we were building, a community, relationships of love. I hope that we did our part in encouraging and helping by adding another family into a home that we built for this very purpose: introducing a new relationship of love.

evolution

i believe in change.

Josephine's Diary

I tinkered with my Father's toys that Jewel had stored in her house before his house burned down.

It was during dinner at home Mother would always have us pray for the Fifth, so that the world would continue to be peaceful and prosperous in his absence. Without my Father, dinner would be as short and quiet as my prayers, shutting my eyes I'd let out a whisper, "Bless this food Fifth, come back soon." Opening my eyes right quick, I'd set them on the table, then to Mother since her eyes stayed closed. Mother would always pray the longest. I'd always stare at her serenity trying to imagine what she was thinking. Maybe she was picturing Father sitting at the table with us, his tongue as sharp as a knife when he'd say the food was a-getting cold. Father never understood prayer, but he said to me one night that her facial expression during it would remind him of the day I was born; a face that transcended pain. Back then I could hear them aloud. Now I had to bear with the silence.

My Father never believed in miracles. I gave an excuse to Mother one evening that if Father didn't believe in prayer why I should and she simply said, "When you're able to have society depend on you, and when you stop playing with toys." I rolled my Father's model car and rubbed my eyes. "I'm still a child Mother, I'm sorry I couldn't be more like Father."

He was a man of reason and his beliefs were simple, "Anything can be possible without the possibility of faith." He believed that if society continued to seek knowledge, they would eventually receive it. He'd say, "If half the world could sit and meditate to someone who didn't exist, they could be helping the other working half." I loved my Father but he was as stubborn as most of his colleagues were, especially when rumors broke out that the Fifth had come back to Panacea. I believed even if they were rumors, it brought hope back into society, but Father would always dismiss it completely saying, "if such a thing existed, I would be the first to see it." He always had a vision for the future, but it never included mine or anybody else's.

striving

I was on the metro once, taking a trip back to the Vienna station from DC, where I'd met up with an old friend an caught some lunch. We got locked into a conversation about whether or not we were satisfied with our lives. The answer was pretty mutual; to a degree, yes -- but to another extent, no, which is what keeps us going. It was accepted as part of the human condition.

But I don't want to accept that anymore. I'm tired of the relentlessness of a life led by how dissatisfied I am with my current condition, and others as well. Why do we always have to strive for the next goal? Why do we have to push ourselves over the top just to reach another plateau that is supposed to enhance our existence? Mind you I'm speaking on a personal level, not in terms of functionality, such as profession. Why should our personality change to suit another's?

It can be a tricky path to walk, since by nature our nature changes, but there's also a conscientious level to it -- why feed into that? Why say, "hey, I'm not good enough for you the way I am, so I'm going to change that" ? There are so many powers pushing and pulling, really vexing the emergence of a personality at any age, depending on where your self-confidence and personal development are, why make it more complicated?

I don't like redundancy in the slightest, but sometimes it's necessary to learn the same life lesson in a different chapter, under a different light. When we were younger, the idea of becoming our own people was forced into our heads. As time went on, we realized it was easier to adjust ourselves to everyone else. But later on in life, that aspect just becomes another part of you that you assimilate into your life experience and use to create your more developed personality.

So in reality, I'm content with my discontent. I've made that decision, and I'm not striving for something that's not going to happen.

Reality bites.


-w