Tag Archives: Humanity

Las Vegas, NV

We’re All Just Stories in the End

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Several times this week I’ve found myself thinking “If only others could read this blog I’m writing in my head, they’d be inspired!” So here I am, taking myself back to the blog to take things out of my head, and maybe… just maybe… inspire others.

The Strip, Las Vegas, NV

When I last left you I was telling the story of my wandering across Spain on the Camino de Santiago, almost 2 years ago. A lot has happened in that time. I now find myself in Las Vegas, a place I would’ve preferred to never return. It brings back the week after my miscarriage, drunken and grieving on the very steps I’m sitting on now, 8 years ago. This time I’m here for growth, for learning, for connecting.

I’m attending a conference where the courses I’m taking focus on leadership, team building, and strategy. I’m still a wanderer, but now I wander the stories of those in close proximity to me. I wander the lives of those struggling to survive, hoping to impart wisdom and able to impart financial assistance. It’s a role that empowers my inner wild woman, while simultaneously being wrought with struggle and anxiety. This is the culmination of years of wandering and hearing the stories of others.

We are, after all, just stories in the end. A series of short stories, chaotic chapters, and lengthy novels. The journey to wander is the longest inside us.

1 of 14 Life Labyrith “Seek”

We are, inside each of us, a winding labyrinth that continues to move through ourselves over and over, developing the next step. If you’ve been lucky enough to buy one of this series you know that you’re endlessly connected to the others, known and unknown, who have also purchased one of these pieces.

People watching is almost as interesting as hearing their stories. So here I sit in vegas, wondering about all of the many stories I watch walk past. The Indian gal who picked up a diaper from the path to throw it away. The couples dressed to the nines, gorgeous and grand. The families and couples. The mother and daughter signing words to each other. So many stories untold to me, but lived every day.

I want to put up a sign that says “Tell me a story” and see who stops. On the Camino we were always telling our stories to each other. As a leader I hear the stories of my team and of the households they help. I have my own story, so often untold, until a kindred spirit insisted. I’m a human body full of so many stories, my own and others. Many get locked deep in a chest to respect and honor the storyteller. Many I get to pass on in tidbits of wisdom shared by others. Many are stories of how I’ve encountered my own wisdom.

This conference has such a focus on taking time to hear the stories of those in our agencies. They talk about development, about GROWTH, and how that means we can’t one-size fits all our leadership. It may seem easier to project my own motivations, desires, and needs on others… but easier is not connective, healing, “agape” love.

So I’ve wandered into a new space of introspection and extrospection. I watch people in the world around me a little closer. I make eye contact with love in my eyes and if I’m lucky enough to have someone impart their story on me… well I try my hardest to love them, see them, and honor them.

After all, we’re all just stories in the end, and stories are beautiful.

Camino de Santiago Frances, Spain

Finding New Life

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I’m struggling on this journey with habits and patterns that I have created at home to manage myself and my PTSD.
If I were home right now I would be sleeping, because it’s still morning. I might go out to work at Starbucks today. I may spend time painting or drawing. I would likely sit outside at the picnic table, enjoying the last days of summer with Janelle before she goes back to work. I’d have made a coffee, and then another, and likely a third. I wouldn’t have eaten anything yet. I’d likely spend a lot of time indoors, binging Netflix or reading a novel. Possibly, I would do some household chores and rearrange the living room for the millionth time. Tomorrow I would do the same, just as this is what I did yesterday. Life became stale. I was complacent in my maximum isolation. So full of thoughts, and hopes, and desires, but not moving towards anything, just talking it in circles and writing down ideas.
This morning I had one cafe con leche and a ham and cheese sandwich. I packed my bag and I hit the road. I greeted others in kindness and compassion for our mutual journey and struggles up hills. I drank lots of water. I stopped and meditated in my surroundings, not concerned with those going past at faster speeds than I. I drank more water and ate a small muffin. I heard music and I stopped to sing along as the Guitarist played Stand By Me (Ben E. King). I encouraged myself to keep moving on the hills, but to stop, look around, and look up. I discovered that what I thought were dates were actually almonds. Who knew they grew on trees in green pods? I didn’t, nor did the three French women who showed it to me, explaining in French. I don’t speak French, but we understood each other all the same.
I found an old cistern on the top of a hill and I stopped to meditate again. Maybe someone took my picture, or they were just catching the view. Someone walked by and told me “Namaste”. I continued to meditate and breathe. When I opened my eyes everything was brighter, my sight was clearer. Even the ants on my bag didn’t ruin my day. I wondered why it is that I avoid meditating regularly. Is lack of peace such a comfortable place?
I arrived at my destination and felt as if I had not come far enough today, but I’m learning I must make myself pause, even when my body insists it can go further. I fed, cleaned, and embraced my body for its strength and resilience. I interact with others through smile and greeting, feeling akin. This is a life one cannot find binging netflix in the living room. I do believe this is a life we can find by stepping out our front door. There is no need to travel, though I highly encourage it. Seeing and experiencing other cultures gives us perspectives to grow and love better. I hope and believe that everyone can take their own journey and not only finds new ways to embrace life, but like I have on this trail, find that life is embracing you back.

Camino de Santiago Frances

Imagine All the People

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Just the average airport travelers…

People watching is an intriguing way to pass the time. This is especially true in an airport. I traveled through 5 different airports to get to France; Denver, Dallas-Ft-Worth, London Heathrow, London Gatwick, and Biarritz France. If you are playing your favourite song on your headphones and just watching you may not notice the language differences around you. Instead, what you’ll see are people looking a little confused or lost. Wide eyes search for a map or staff member to find their gate or the nearest toilet. People struggle with small children or huge suitcases. Their skin may vary in color, but they’re distinctly them and very human. All the differences fall away as we each try to navigate the journey to our final destination. The journey looks different, it sounds different, but is a journey all the same.

Airport Employees

At various points I would look around, wondering where I was, because I had forgotten while watching these incredible humans be incredibly human. The only sign of differences were the names on the shops, local advertisements, and the different uniforms of the employees. It’s difficult for me to not see each person as a beautiful unique individual. The current push for nationalism and division between cultures, beliefs, and political parties disheartens me and doesn’t mesh with my view of the world.
One of the things I most look forward to on the Camino is the diverse population that I will engage with. I will struggle to communicate and understand all of my interactions, but there is no doubt that I will learn and grow through each encounter. If I only ever know my own culture and language how could I continue to love everyone as they deserve? It is important in each person’s journey to see the lives of others so they might grow in their own life.
Diversity and new experiences increase our ability to define ourselves in our own way. We need options in order to best understand what fits our own unique lives.

T.A.R.D.I.S

During trips as a child, my mom would lead me in a game trying to guess a persons story just by watching them. Sometimes we’d get silly, but other times we would just go with what we saw. I don’t know if my mum was trying to teach me a lesson, or merely play a game. For me though, it was the beginning of exploring people different from me. It opened my imagination to the uniqueness of individuals and how we tell our story through our appearances. It also reminds me that we are more than the view we show others, that we are much bigger on the inside. That of course brings me back to my favourite Doctor Who metaphor… in the end aren’t we all just timey wimey wibbly wobbly adventurers of time and space traveling in a T.A.R.D.I.S. which is much bigger on the inside than it is on the outside?

I think we are. In all of time and space I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important.

Kansas City, MO

My Flawed Existence

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To be human is to be flawed and to succeed by simply the act of continuing to try again. I am great at counting my flaws and I struggle some days to keep trying. I find though that I have had to stop trying to be perfect. The idea of perfection still creeps into my thoughts and I have to do the hard work to not allow it to take control. For the most part, I am glad to say, I am not trying to be perfect. I am most simply these days just trying to be, to exist with the world around me. Through all of this I am just trying to understand my own nature further, and the nature of other humans around me.

I feel that humanity hides itself under the cover of owning things, gaining power/perfection, and trying to hide our flaws. I find deep gratitude when others I interact with are also working on seeing who they are underneath the covers that mask our true selves. In our modern era, full of information and toys, we struggle harder to simply enjoy our lives. I have read various research which discusses how there are too many choices available to us, and this overwhelms our capacity to be happy.

With a world so full of so many things we often makes things more difficult than they need to be. I know that I do. I am constantly speaking with my therapist about getting in the way of my own healing. I set barriers in my life that restrict me from fully embracing the world around me. These are flaws that I have to come to terms with. They are fall-backs that when I am hungry, angry, lonely, tired, or all of the above I will likely revert to.

I have some beautiful friends that I often get to speak with by phone or enjoy over a coffee. I have a flaw of not always remembering to be grateful for them. I have the flaw of being afraid of their judgement or dislike of who I am. I worry that trying to be a simple writer/artist/barista/aspiring bohemian woman seems silly to them. I also worry that in doing so I will fail myself. The truth though is in the words I said at the start of this, and have said many times to individuals I have supported through healing. If you are trying you are succeeding. It seems too simple to be true. It seems like not a big deal and gets pushed to the side by the habits we have learned through our society.

We have to clear out all the many choices and the multitude of things that get in the way. We have to return to the simple self, who are we when everything no longer exists in our life? The biblical figure Job is a good example. The book of Job is about God proving to Satan that when Job has nothing left he still has God. I have in my life been asked in various different settings who I am when I take away the volunteering, the working for others, the trauma story, the activities I do, and the things I call myself. Through one program, You School, I was asked a number of questions that helped me dive into who I am.

Through that exercise I found a key Greek term that I have known for years, Agape (ἀγάπη, agapē). This word is found in the original Greek portions of the Bible and is one of several Greek words which translated to the word “Love” in the English language. This specific Greek word denotes the love which God gives to humanity without expectation of return. It is a benevolent love, one full of good will. When I look at my life and the world around me I find that I often focus on the trauma and the pain. It some days appears that there is not good in the world. I had the Greek Agape tattooed on my forearm as a reminder of why I exist in the world. If I have no other reason to be here, at least I can love unconditionally others.

Part of me hopes what I give to others will be returned to me by others, but ultimately it is a term that I must apply to my relationship with myself. The thing about developing myself and being aware of the world around me is that I cannot care for others if I am not first caring for myself adequately. One of the flaws I hear of a lot from different individuals is that serving others is what gives us meaning in life. I know many people who don’t face their own flaws in the mirror because they are too busy helping with their neighbors crisis or flaw. It goes back to balance, which is a common theme on my journey. Helping others can give me perspective but at the end of the day, am I helping myself?

How can we truly be human, accept ourselves, and in turn accept others, if we are so busy ignoring our own humanity? If we are so busy building walls to protect ourselves from the unknown, the dangerous, the risky, the scary? If we build the walls to keep out those things which we have learned to dislike the most we are also building walls to the joy, the happiness, the love, the true connection and relationship we could have with other people.

So here I am being all smart, right? In fact, I am saying this as much for me as anyone else. I struggle to move past the knowledge bombs I like to drop on myself, to the place where I am actually experiencing life. For so long I have watched the world around me, I have been a spectator full of criticism and judgement as I have gone along. I have failed to accept my own flaws and really embrace them. Though it may not seem like it sometimes, I am trying.

This is why I am a wanderer though, because I do not know what this looks like in the end. I wish I did, I wish I knew the outcome for myself, what I can achieve, what I will look back on at the end of my life. Often it feels like life is just happening to me, so I wander along, trying to just experience it. When I have tried to plan it often fails or doesn’t turn out how I desire. The thing about it all is that I have to find unconditional love for myself. I have to dig in roots here, I have to accept my flaws and my story.

The thing is, I keep digging, sometimes I hit rocks, sometimes its’ an easy passage, and sometimes the roots stick. That’s the funny thing about wandering, the roots start to grow in different places, but they don’t hold you back, they support you to grow more, gain more nourishment, and discover what can bloom on your tree of life. There are knotty parts on the tree, some broken roots, some storm damage, and many flaws. All of this together makes you stronger. So yes, I have a flawed existence, and that is okay, I’ll keep trying. And in trying, I will be succeeding.