fixed my "give a damn"

and just in time.

Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz (New Spain, 1648-1695)

En perseguirme, mundo, ¿que interesas?
¿En que te ofendo, cuando solo intento
poner bellezas en mi entendimiento
y no mi entendimiento en las bellezas?

Yo no estimo tesoros ni riquezas;
y asi, siempre me causa mas contento
poner riquezas en mi pensamiento
que no mi pensamiento en las riquezas.

Y no estimo hermosura que, vencida,
es despojo civil de las edades,
ni riqueza me agrada fementida,

teniendo por mejor, en mis verdades,
consumir vanidades de la vida
que consumir la vida en vanidades

gratefulness

is the warm calming of restlessness that transpires
when you see a familiar face
at precisely the right moment
to keep you from breaking. And gratefulness is
in exchanges--languages--
that face---until time becomes
immeasurable again.

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.

And I plan to be forgotten when I'm gone

[when I die]
can it be in the midwinter springtime?
(but not this midwinter springtime)
and will you let me burn before I'm buried?
before I'm scattered?
and will you celebrate my life?
(because funerals are morbid, and--, oh, and--)
will you play "Rollin' Back" by My Morning Jacket?
and will you laugh at my earnestness?
and will you laugh at my awkwardness?
and what will you remember?

(because I am sometimes land//sometimes ocean//sometimes land//sometimes ocean//sometimes land// sometimes--)

Østers i Vest from Sebastian Schuster-Rossel on Vimeo.

Oysters have pearls inside, you know.
(and our bodies do, too).

sunday--

1. My first time at the Episcopal Church in Athens, with Ms. Kelley McArthur and farm friends. I was incredibly impressed.
2. Philosophical ponderings/general orneriness with Mr. Kelly Latimore (who gifted me the beautiful book of Chilean poetry and prose, pictured above).
3. Chit-chats with Ms. Morky Magic.
   
4. Skype with my music-making-soul-brother, who is going somewhere big; just you see.
5. Thesis. Thesis. Thesis.
6. Arcade Fire. Arcade Fire. Arcade Fire.
7. ice cream sandwiches.

(a good day)
-----
EL VERDADERO PROBLEMA
de la Filosofía.
(Nicanor Parra)

es quién lava los platos
nada del otro mundo
Dios
la verdad
el transcurso del tiempo
claro que sí
pero primero quién lava los platos

el que quiera lavarlos que los lave
chao pescao
y tan enemigos como ante

(THE GREAT ENIGMA/ of philosophy/ is who's going to wash the dishes/ it isn't life after death/ God/ Truth/ the passage of time/ [these things] of course/ but first who's going to wash the dishes
he who wants to wash them, let him wash them/ later alligator/ and true enemies forever).

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.

veiling.

Jordan laughed at me over bubble tea; my depiction of the plateau was pretty bleak. And he had a point: jumping off is futile, unless you have a damned good pogo stick, and even then, you're still going down. Better to propel up, he said. Now I've gotta go invest in an ice pick. Or I could just grow some intense cat claws. Kidding.
(I've gotta stop with the cat jokes/references; people are gonna start thinking I'm serious).

Old-school Southeast Engine's on repeat and everything's still. Nattada and I feasted on steamed, local spaghetti squash tonight. I don't think I've ever made a better marinara sauce--chocked full of amaranth. We had peas, too. I love peas.

Food is funny. When shared communally, or consumed with gratitude, there is almost something sacred to it. And there is nothing more rewarding--nothing that requires more patience--than growing your own. Sometimes I get lost in looking at my own hands, in imagining my skin--the creases at the knuckles--shaping and shedding and replacing with each new amino acid I swallow.

I should make a self-rule to focus on my hands more--to take time to consciously imagine my food converting to energy--my breath to spirit--within the confines of my own body. Because sometimes I get caught up reading old words and staring at old photographs until I can't recognize my own voice--my own face--in them. And I think it's a loss but it's a pseudo-loss; I'm rendered a fool by my own veiling.

I won't know the difference until I begin to honor stillness. Sometimes contentment is a euphemism for apathy, but not always. Sometimes contentment is just as imperative as the discontentment sparking revolutions--both internal and external. Yes, contentment, too, can be revolutionary. Stillness can be revolutionary.

And in recognizing this, I can stop worrying altogether about how to get off the damned plateau: by laying on my back and being flat--watching the scenery around me shuffle, as I stay motionless.

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