Fight Darkness With Light

Horrible things happen. Horrible things are happening. We have free will, and I don't believe we can blame God for these things happening, neither can we knowingly say that He sent them to us so that we could learn. But when they do happen I believe He does give us a choice. We can choose to either sit back in horror and watch the decay of our society, the crumbling of an old world order or we can take action, we can see in each tragedy and horror a responsibility to make sure it never happens again, we can learn from our mistakes and search for transformation and growth in the middle of the present day's chaos. We can dedicate our lives in service to the betterment of our communities and our world and teach our children to do the same. We can collectively look at the horrible things that happen around us as motivation to raise a generation that does not repeat these same mistakes. To live a life in which our actions reflect the world we would like our children to grow up in. A life in which we strive to reflect the qualities of God, to ground our actions in compassion, to have the courage to forgive and the strength to love equally and unconditionally. 

When tragedy strikes, do we sit back in horror? Do we get angry and divisive? Do we look for someone or something to blame? Do we charge into battle guns loaded? Or do we say, I have a responsibility to make a positive difference in my community. I have a responsibility to show love to my neighbors, to believe and empower the children of my community, to fight darkness with light, to fight anger with forgiveness, to be a living embodiment of the people I wish all the children in my community could grow up to be, to strive with every ounce of my being to draw closer to God, through my actions and deeds. 

We all have a responsibility to be a positive force within our communities so that together we can build a world where we, humanity, are not the cause of each other's sorrow and suffering, but rather their joy and light. 

"Be thou a summoner to love, and be thou kind to all the human race. Love thou the children of men and share in their sorrows. Be thou of those who foster peace. Offer thy friendship, be worthy of trust. Be thou a balm to every sore, be thou a medicine for every ill. Bind thou the souls together... Rest thou not for a moment, seek thou to draw no easeful breath. Thus mayest thou become a sign and symbol of God’s love, and a banner of His grace." - 'Abdu'l-Baha

Lights Across the Water

When I was a little girl, there was a highway my family used to drive on in our city. It could take you from downtown all the way out to the valley (a drive that took all of about 25 minutes). My family lived right in the middle of this road, neither in the valley, nor downtown. I remember as a kid feeling like the peace keeper, the middle-man. Whenever we would take this highway downtown at night, I would stare out my window in awe. My brother always made me sit on the seat on the left hand side of the car. I didn't think it was fair, because it meant no matter which direction we went I always had to stare at oncoming traffic and he always got the beautiful view of mountains and water and glaciers and sky. But whenever we drove downtown at night, I didn't mind having to sit in the left hand seat so much. There was a set of lakes on the way that made it feel as though the highway was floating on water. On my brothers side was the Gastineau Channel, and on my side was Twin Lakes (which was exactly what the name of the area implies). What fascinated me most though wasn't so much the lakes but the lights. You see, where I grew up, the city was basically built on the edge of the mountains, and right next to these lakes was a particularly steep mountain with houses and streets climbing up its side. Whenever we would drive downtown at night, the lights from these houses would reflect in the lakes below, and their elegance would mystify me. I would imagine vast, endless cities existing right below the surface. Like in Star Wars, people just going about their daily lives completely unaware of the people living in the world above them, who in turn were completely unaware of their existence.

Growing up in Alaska, there were no horizon lines. If I ever saw lights at night across a great distance, they were unquestioningly across a body of water like the Twin Lakes. So, when my family moved to Tucson, Arizona when I was 15 years old,  mountains and enclosed spaces were all that I knew. As my dad and I drove from Phoenix to Tucson, I remember seeing lights farther off in the distance than I had ever seen before. While I consciously knew that there couldn't be water between them and me, as we were basically in the middle of a desert, my brain couldn't comprehend what could possibly exist in that vast space if not water. How could land simply spread out like that? I often think back on that feeling of mental comprehension, but instinctive confusion when I am faced with new or confusing situations. I remember the comprehension which came over time as I gained experience seeing vast open areas of space. I still look back at my initial reactions and laugh at my own innocence while appreciating the beauty of it as well.

This memory has taught me an important lesson in life. I have learned that it is one of the most freeing feelings to recognize that your understanding, your vision, your comprehension are limited by your own life experience, by your own assumptions of reality, and to be able to set that aside and move forward into the future, without fear, but rather with trust and excitement to gain new perspectives is truly a gift. Over and over I have faced new experiences, new places, new cultures, new jobs, where I didn't know what to expect, where I couldn't possibly comprehend what was up ahead.

Right now I am facing the same thing. Come June I will be moving to Russia to assist with the expansion of the Junior Youth Spiritual Empowerment Program there. Russia seems like such a foreign word to me, let alone an actual place. And yet, I now marvel at my own reaction to being asked to go. I wasn't afraid at all. I didn't question whether it was the right choice or not, I knew with every ounce of my being that God had looked within my heart, weighed my deepest dream, and handed me the perfect opportunity to fulfill that dream. I think I've learned to look at an open horizon line in the dark and say, "Okay well, perhaps all I see are lights and I don't know what exists between them and me, but I will surely find out and gain a broader understanding of the world in the process."

I can't wait to feel the magic of seeing mountains and snow and lights reflected in water again. Oh how I've missed the beauty and mystery of living in the north.

Meatballs

So I have to tell you a story. When I was little, I was extremely stubborn and really picky (haha go figure). My parents had it made trying to get me to even try a bite of pretty much anything that was new and looked even remotely strange. So you can probably picture the scene the first time my parents introduced me to meatballs and asked me to take one single bite of one. I flat out refused. It looked like dog poop to me and even though I was only 3 or 4 I figured I could out wait them if it came to a stand off. I was wrong. The rest of my family finished their food and my mom and brother went off to do other things. My dad sat at the table staring at me. He would wait all night if he had to, but I was going to try a single bite of that meatball and that was the end of the story. I have no idea how long I tested my dad's patience. To me it definitely felt like I sat there for 2 or 3 hours (considering I was like 3 it was probably more like 10 or 15 minutes). Finally when I felt I'd made my point and I could tell my dad wasn't going to yield and let me leave the table in peace, I took the tiniest bite you can possibly imagine of that disgusting looking brown thing on my plate. Then, before even really allowing myself to taste it, I made the most horrible face I could muster and ran as fast as I possibly could to the garbage can and spit it out. My dad sighed and let me go. It wasn't until about 10 years later that I finally admitted to him that I had actually deeply enjoyed the taste of that first bite of meatball, but that at 3 I had my pride and wasn't going to tell him that. Since then in my family any time that someone is adamantly against something and then completely changes their mind about it, this story is often referenced in jest.

Pure Light in Human Form

A child is pure light in human form. They are innocence, love, trust and purity. We should all be more like children. Peaceful, content, honest to a fault, genuine and sincere. How different the world would be if we were each allowed to keep and treasure our childhood hearts. The innocent joys and imaginative pleasures which were our reality as children could develop into radiance and appreciation, imagination and detachment from earthly things if only we would let them. Instead we fill children's lives with things, with toys, movies and games, with ideas, prejudices, assumptions and attachments. We draw their attention from the pleasures and joys which remind them of God's glory. We fill their heads with earthly and material responsibilities losing sight of their greatest responsibility of all, their responsibility to dedicate themselves in service to others, in service to God. We look at our own inhibitions and hope that the next generation can overcome them and become better and more than what we see ourselves as. But in this single seeming act of selflessness is the essence of our struggle and the downfall of our goal. For a child will become what you are, not what you hope them to be. Unless we as teachers, parents, adults are continually striving to become better people, to become the people we want our children to be, they will never be able to fulfill our hopes for them. For a child cannot learn something the person teaching them does not understand. So if you wish your child to be a better person then you yourself must show them what it looks like to continually be striving to be a better person, to be in a mode of learning. You must show them what it looks like to trust in God and be willing to change your own assumptions of reality. Be a living example for them of what personal growth and service to humanity looks like, for only then will we truly empower a generation capable of transforming our world.

A Dream

I think I've only ever had one dream. I've focused on various aspects of it throughout my life, but it has always been there. It is a dream that I believe in, one I have faith will happen and always have. Sometimes I've yearned and begged and prayed and wished that it would happen sooner, but I have never not believed that it would happen someday. My dream involves little fingers and toes and giggles, it involves love filled, trusting, unhindered fingers entangled in mine, an embrace that surrounds me, protects me from the world, envelops my entire being, a friendship with absolutely no ends, no walls, no barriers, deeper than any I have ever felt, so deep that I don't know where I end and he begins. A love which will move mountains, grounded in Faith, manifested in service, multiplied and increased in the smiles and laughter of the beautiful souls we will have the bounty of bringing into this world. This is my dream. A dream I know will someday become my reality.

A Lonely Pebble

I hide from myself, within myself. Like a pebble hiding from the waves. Fearing the trials that will smooth its rough edges, the confusion of being overcome, of losing control, of drowning with no sense of direction. Of being pulled to the bottom of the ocean and never finding the surface again. I am like a pebble, holding itself so still that the movements of rocks around it have little effect upon it. Where its beauty could be revealed if it would move and interact with the stones around it, but instead I choose to be tested and battered alone. I don't  allow myself to recognize the other steadfast rocks around me, the love which they shower upon me, that could help me transform if only I would approach them, let them near, allow them to glimpse my rough edges, accept their love and allow them to help me to sand them down. But instead I weather the storm alone until I am dangling on the edge of existence. Only then do I seek comfort enough to pull me back on the edge, but never enough to take me off of it completely. There are beautiful gems within me, which I could find, if only I would let the flaws break through the sands of my self and allow others to love me the way I love them.