Tag Archives: responsibility

Choices

On her blog, Undecided, Shannon Kelley states: “Choosing one thing means you’re killing the possibility of having the other. And when we’re raised on the idea that anything’s possible–and every option is available–we see choosing anything as settling. And, of course, it is–it’s settling for something less than everything.”

Which is true. Saying yes to one thing means saying to no to an unknown number of other things. This would not be a problem if we knew for sure what we wanted out of life. When you know what specific job, house, and friends you want it is easy to go and find them and make them yours.

But as Americans we have been told that we can have and be anything we want. So small children say they want to grow up and be soccer balls, birthday cakes, or hippopotamuses; and we laugh, say how cute, and know they will one day grow out of that belief. But these are logical decisions. They can be anything. No exclusions. We told them so. And then our young adults leave the confines of the education system and fall into depression or ADD because they can’t decide what job to focus on, what city to live in, and whether spending every day with the same group of people is worth their time.

These are worthwhile considerations. The world is a big place. There are lots of great ways to live.

I’ve been laughed at (in a kind-of, ‘oh how adorable’ sort of laugh) for wanting to do everything. I honest to God would enjoy a fulfilled, happy life as a bed and breakfast owner in Santa Fe, as a rancher in Montana, or as a shepherd in New Zealand. Those jobs would be AWESOME.

But you know, after I denied my humanity by dreaming my life away in high school, and after succumbing to anger at my humanity in college, and after the bargaining I did with the universe, and after the depression I found myself sucked into, I have no choice left but to accept. Accept the fact that we can’t do anything, be anything, have everything.

I have one life, one chance, one story. I can have a long story, yes. But only one. And while a choice to take a job, or rent a house, or even, gasp, get married means that there are other jobs, homes, or possible life endings that I cannot experience, I have to offer myself some grace and allow that possibility. As I’ve noted before, all we truly have in our lives is the opportunity to choose.

Yes, settling is a terrible word. However, living  life in the world of what-ifs and dreams is a worse fate. And keeping options open unfairly strings along all the bosses, girlfriends, landlords, boyfriends, and adventures that we can’t commit to.

You can’t have it all, but you can make a choice. And live the hell out of the choice you make.

 

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Seeking the Source

Seeking reconciliation, peace, justice, or any type of “healing” suggests a brokenness, tear, or conflict. So what happens when you can’t figure out what is wrong, and it is obvious that something hurts? How do you heal an undefined wound?

We tend to blame our pain, emptiness, confusion, whatever, on a recent break-up, a current bad—abusive or too superficial—relationship, or job loss. Therapists like to blame our upbringings and parents. Parents like to blame us for being unmotivated or irresponsible.

So we turn to alcohol, serial dating, food, movies, music, exercise, church, change of scenery for relief and sometimes answers. And it doesn’t work; the pain is still there.

Sometimes the wounds heal leaving scars. And we celebrate the scar as a sign of survival. Proof that we are strong enough, wise enough, old enough, brave enough, to succeed. We look to our scars as reminders to not let the same thing happen twice. Yet there will be a new pain. If not tomorrow, it will hit someday with a force so powerful we lie in bed all day listening to songs of heartbreak and wondering why life is so unsatisfying.

I have to believe there is an answer somewhere. I have found some answers—to the breaks that have a source. Conflicts ending in loss of/abuse to personal property or threat to/loss of personal safety arrive at a restorative justice circle if they are lucky, or show up in our court systems and one side takes responsibility while the other receives compensation for the pain. Conflicts involving a loss of self-esteem end in alcohol or over-drive sociability. But for the brokenness that stems from nowhere in particular, from what I can only attribute to the curse of humanity? I have no answers.

This is what kills me. This is what makes the brokenness so unbearable. If only we knew why, then we would be able to address it and make it stop. Without that knowledge, we have to accept it, and live on despite it. True strength I guess is not surviving, but thriving in the midst of brokenness.

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building blocks of reconciliation

“I learned that Hutus and Tutsis are the same—they both have offended each other. They both need to forgive and be forgiven.”  -Anonymous male participant in AWFRI healing and reconciliation workshop, 32-years old

AWFRI hosts several workshops and seminars throughout each month aimed at teaching Rwandans basic lessons on forgiveness.  In a society still traumatized by horrors one should never experience, lessons on forgiveness are important, but must be combined with efforts to heal the individual.  AWFRI country director Benjamin Ndizeye structures his workshops on the premise that reconciliation is two-fold: “with your own heart and with others”.

Ndizeye opens every workshop by asking why forgiveness is important.  After obtaining an answer along the lines of “because we are broken”, he presses the audience for what kind of things break a heart.  Answers range from war to poverty to rejection by a girlfriend/boyfriend.  All are relevant though, and Ndizeye gives them all credibility, encouraging the reserved audience to voice their pains.

Ndizeye says the first step towards forgiveness will be to rebuild the broken heart, and this rebuilding begins by re-defining a human being.  A human, he explains, is like an avocado. “The pit is the human spirit, the flesh is the human soul, and the skin is the physical body. Like the seed of the avocado is the most important part of the fruit, your spirit is what defines you.”  The old adage that nearly every American child knows by heart: “its what on the inside that counts”, is news to the audience.

The foundational lesson concludes by coaxing the audience to list adjectives previously used to describe “Hutu”, “Tutsi”, and “Twa”.  With a full chart of words, Ndizeye tells the crowd that a human is not what he looks like or what others call him, it is the personality of a man or woman that will determine his/her actions and define his character.   He says “the problem is not the existence of ethnic divisions, but the image we construct of [these divisions].”

Reading through responses of audience members reveals the importance of basic identity discussions.  The 21-year-old man whose most important lesson learned was “healing and acceptance—acceptance of yourself and of others” connected the relationship between a healthy self-esteem and making others comfortable in your presence.  Lesson one of achieving peace: know and be comfortable with yourself.  This way you can accept others as they are.

Ndizeye’s second step in teaching forgiveness is addressing personal responsibility.  He starts by saying God forgives us after we admit to engaging in a sin, after taking responsibility.

Using me, the five-foot tall, skinny American with no money to her name in the audience, he pointed out that to take responsibility we must remember that people are not the definitions others’ give to them.  “She does not look or act American at all.  This girl is skinny and she thought of the poverty in this village so she brought her own water to drink, but she doesn’t have money to give us all.  So we must change our mind about Americans and know that they can’t fix all our problems.”  I felt honored to add to the day’s lesson, but mostly excited to hear a call to action in this aid dependent culture.

Lesson two of achieving peace: take responsibility.  The 32-year-old man who recognized that all ethnicities played a role in the pain and destruction of 17 years ago nailed this lesson on the head.

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