30-loves list. (for Dale). (and also for myself).

1. Love of family.
2. Love of friendship, that becomes a kind-of family.
3. Love of the way we can be many different things to each other.
4. Love of farm stillness.
5. And farm movement.
6. And love of knowing that I might plant the garlic, but I do not make the garlic grow.
7. Love of service.
8. Love of the humility that allows oneself to be served by another.
   
9. Love of the capacity for reinventions.
   
10. Love of second chances, with things right in front of you.
11. Love of saying sorry.
    
12. Love of music, and the way it shares things between people (the way it shares things between the multiple people in one person).
    
13. Love of moments when I recognize I'm human.
14. Love of my cat Comet.
15. And my old cat Chewy (rest in peace).
16. Love of the people who have passed--physically, or emotionally--from my life, for they are and always will be a present part of who I am.
17. That is, Love of the way Love lingers, even when bodies and hearts do not.
    
18. Love of functioning in a Communion of Saints.
    
19. And of the Joy and value in little pleasures and safeties.
20. Love of my body (on a good day).
21. And my spirit (on a good day).
    
22. Love in strength and flexibility (but not malleability).
23. Love of the way I am big and small in a world that is big and small.
24. Love of warm things.
25. Love of the intimacy allowing one to speak a coded language, that only one more understands.
26. Love of spending a lifetime, almost knowing one another.
    
27. And the way that people return to each other after miscommunications to try to communicate again; their persistence shows a caring language cannot capture.
    
28. Love of deep peace.
29. Love of not taking oneself too seriously.
    
30. Serious Love.

Plans.

I am so excited for the Capuchin Franciscan Volunteer Corps program I am applying for! Ahh, I want it with my whole heart! Today, I spoke on the phone with a woman in charge of volunteer placement, and she had all the right answers:

1. The program isn't exclusively Catholic; they accept people of all faith backgrounds, and atheists, too. They seek volunteers who are open to new ideas/expressions of spirituality--people who can have intentional dialogue about Justice and Service and Community, who are respectful of others' visions. It goes without saying that the program does not attempt to indoctrinate. Rather, it seeks to build community and promote justice through the humble love and service of others. That simple.

2. In addition to Service, Community, and Justice, the fundamental value of the Franciscans is Simplicity. Typically, Franciscans live in intentional poverty, and give all their energy and resources to others. Maybe it's my tendency towards nostalgia, but I find myself collecting things always--for the memory and sentimental attachment-- and lately I've been trying to let things go. Boaz always writes c/o on his possessions, instead of just his name, to remind himself that he owns nothing; he is just "in care of" things. I have been consciously trying to appropriate this mindset lately, and I think I could really benefit from living an intentional community that collectively practices modesty.

3. Cap Corps places volunteers in one of three spaces: Peru, Nicaragua, and Panama. They work with various NGO's in those areas. One NGO in Nicaragua--the one I feel like would be the perfect fit for me--works with community members to implement sustainable agricultural practices. They've been installing solar panels that have helped local communities be more self-sustaining. Anyways, get this: the NGO's mission statement highlights gender politics. It acknowledges patriarchal power structures (known in Latin America as "machismo") and promotes intentional conversation about gender politics at play on a communal, micro-level, as well as those at play on a more global level. So wait? I'd be working on a farm, implementing organic farming and sustainable agricultural practices, and discussing eco-feminism--in Latin America, practicing my Spanish for a year and a half after college? Yes, yes I would...

I've studied the Liberal/Radical (I tend to relate more to radical than to liberal politics, to be honest) priests whose championing of social justice profoundly shaped liberation movements. It would be an honor to actually meet some of them.

Now I just have to pray that it will actually happen.
And I have to make it through the next 3 months. (Capstone, Seminar, Thesis, Internship).

Plans by Leslie Albanese is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

"if I could go back-ways" get you no-ways fast.

Sometimes, funny things haunt me--like shoe strings; sometimes shoe strings haunt me. Like Cat Steven's Trouble haunts me. Like Gumby and putt-putt golfing haunt me.

Sometimes, I am afraid of losing faces. Other people's faces. I can always recognize them. I never forget. But I can't close my eyes and create the isolated image. And somehow I feel like this is losing. This is losing faces.

Sometimes I remember belonging to the Communion of Saints. Before my experience of agency complicated my understanding of fatalism. Before the two became incongruous. I remember when doubt was more consolable. When faith was easier. And sometimes I swear I still do belong. Sometimes, when I think or feel or love strongly enough, I swear I hear echos from all around that are not my own. And I know. I know it's the Community of Saints.

Sometimes poetry is laughable. And sometimes poetry is laughing at me. (For not believing in masks// For self sacrifice// For causes).

Sometimes I laugh at myself.

Sometimes oatmeal makes everything better.

But most of the time it takes more. More than oatmeal. More than peppermint and honey. More than immersion in a safe place with safe things-- until contentment and discontentment become simultaneously and increasingly necessary; the former at an immediate, personal level; the latter at a macro-political level.

"No amount of 'if-I-could-go-back-ways' gets you back-ways," they say.
And I say: Oh, God, where are my boxes?



no-ways fast. by Leslie Albanese is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.