life is weird and good and big. profound, i know. but really- it is all those things and more.
i'm in nansana learning how to be a farmer- which is weird because i'm a doctor-but not that weird because if people don't eat or don't eat well, they get sick and die. i'm at this lovely little cheap motel that somehow reminds me of europe (well the way europe looked for the budget traveler 16 years ago). the bathroom and the fixtures and the small size and the random left over christmas decor in the tiny reception area. i even looked at the makeshift newly built rock paved paths and envisioned ancient cobble stoned streets. i think it all says more about me and where i'm at, than the little hotel- either way- it's nice.
yesterday started with a story in farming class and ended in a batman movie and a mid-life moment. since life is lived forwards but only understood backwards (kierkegaard)- i'll go backward.
the batman movie was fantastic. this is possibly true because it's been well over a year since i've gone to the movies (with the exception of "happy feet 2" in a very moldy theater with the kids). let me first say that i don't like batman movies or any superhero movies for that matter. but batman is particularly bad for me because they always take place at night in the dark so i feel like i can't really see half of the time. but also, i'm inevitably confused. who is the bad guy? why is catwoman in this movie? doesn't she have her own? does the dark night mean he was good but turned bad? and because i am never able to stay awake during the previous batman movie- i never know the plot or who's who- and i definitely never read the comics. that said- i loved it. there was love and redemption. self- discovery and good choices. and that inspirational cat-woman in her fabulous catsuit.
but the last scene made me suddenly homesick. it was the reflective scene- the wrap up- the endings and the planting of seeds of beginnings. i missed streets with tall strong buildings and bridges and cold leafless weather and snow and faces that hold so many ethnicities. i missed that american we-can-conquer-all attitude, i missed heros and tributes and history. i missed the flavor.
from batman we went to mishmash. it was open mike night, competing with large screen olympics. i found out one of the guys we were out with was 22. as in, years old. yeah. weird right? i'm celebrating my 19th wedding anniversary in two days. i'm almost old enough to be his mother.
while i listened to the live music, i remembered the days when this was a more regular activity- when i felt untethered and had time to feel it -and think it- and imagine the possibilities. when i painted pictures, or tried to play the guitar- full of time and with a huge lack of others needing me.
it made me remember what my mom always said about growing older- you - your spirit and soul parts- don't feel the age your body looks and feels. the self- is in many ways the same as it was at 22- the age when i was married- the age i was 22 years ago right now.
it all freaked me out a bit- the longing and the remembering. the home-sickness and the year-sickness. there was no regret at all- it was just an awareness- of passage and place.
then i remembered where my day had started. in nansana uganda, at age 41, as a blooming farmer, a doctor and wife and mother of four. my day had started with a story. it was a story about humility and transformation- about a man who began again. about a successful, wealthy tobacco farmer, convicted by his child to not grow something that kills people, who stopped farming tobacco because it was the right thing to do. and it cost him everything. he lost his money, and his farm. people asked him to return to tobacco- to not be stupid- to do what he did well, but he'd made a promise to his daughter and his God.
two years later, after failing while farming another persons farm, he walked through a forest and cried out to God- those famous cries that i know so well - 'help!' and 'why' and 'show me'. i'm sure he felt totally jipped. he'd made the choice to do a good thing- he'd risked everything to do what was right, and failed. how many times have i felt jipped? have i felt undeserved pain or suffering?
but.
as he put his face on the floor of the forest- this farmer grabbed a handful of earth- and had a revelation. the soil there was rich and moist and dark- the forest was growing steadily- constantly- abundantly with out much tending. he realized he was asking for help in farming, from the original farmer- and that the answers were all around him. the soil was moist and healthy because it was covered in mulch- it didn't need to be tilled and plowed. he realized he had what he needed to grow things well- he just needed to transform the way he was doing it. and he realized that farming doesn't need to cost a lot of money- there are ways to farm the land conservatively and to protect and care for the earth instead of hurting it. that he could honor his promise, and his God- by transforming his methods- and learning from the first farmer.
his breakdown, lead to breakthrough which led to break out. his personal transformation- led to an awareness of the need for transformation in farming- a need to revive and transform the land. his breakdown led to a movement that has blessed and changed subsistence farming in africa. wow. it wasn't easy- it looked bleak- i'm sure he doubted his choice.
in those valley- in the break down - i'm not usually given the answer to why. help, yes. shown, yes. but not the reason.
last night, looking back over years and hearing cover songs that brought me back to perhaps less complicated days- days spent in cities in my own home country, and recalling that morning story of brokenness and redemption, it all swam together, and life felt big and strange and hard, but mostly beautiful and good.
i'm in nansana learning how to be a farmer- which is weird because i'm a doctor-but not that weird because if people don't eat or don't eat well, they get sick and die. i'm at this lovely little cheap motel that somehow reminds me of europe (well the way europe looked for the budget traveler 16 years ago). the bathroom and the fixtures and the small size and the random left over christmas decor in the tiny reception area. i even looked at the makeshift newly built rock paved paths and envisioned ancient cobble stoned streets. i think it all says more about me and where i'm at, than the little hotel- either way- it's nice.
yesterday started with a story in farming class and ended in a batman movie and a mid-life moment. since life is lived forwards but only understood backwards (kierkegaard)- i'll go backward.
the batman movie was fantastic. this is possibly true because it's been well over a year since i've gone to the movies (with the exception of "happy feet 2" in a very moldy theater with the kids). let me first say that i don't like batman movies or any superhero movies for that matter. but batman is particularly bad for me because they always take place at night in the dark so i feel like i can't really see half of the time. but also, i'm inevitably confused. who is the bad guy? why is catwoman in this movie? doesn't she have her own? does the dark night mean he was good but turned bad? and because i am never able to stay awake during the previous batman movie- i never know the plot or who's who- and i definitely never read the comics. that said- i loved it. there was love and redemption. self- discovery and good choices. and that inspirational cat-woman in her fabulous catsuit.
but the last scene made me suddenly homesick. it was the reflective scene- the wrap up- the endings and the planting of seeds of beginnings. i missed streets with tall strong buildings and bridges and cold leafless weather and snow and faces that hold so many ethnicities. i missed that american we-can-conquer-all attitude, i missed heros and tributes and history. i missed the flavor.
from batman we went to mishmash. it was open mike night, competing with large screen olympics. i found out one of the guys we were out with was 22. as in, years old. yeah. weird right? i'm celebrating my 19th wedding anniversary in two days. i'm almost old enough to be his mother.
while i listened to the live music, i remembered the days when this was a more regular activity- when i felt untethered and had time to feel it -and think it- and imagine the possibilities. when i painted pictures, or tried to play the guitar- full of time and with a huge lack of others needing me.
it made me remember what my mom always said about growing older- you - your spirit and soul parts- don't feel the age your body looks and feels. the self- is in many ways the same as it was at 22- the age when i was married- the age i was 22 years ago right now.
it all freaked me out a bit- the longing and the remembering. the home-sickness and the year-sickness. there was no regret at all- it was just an awareness- of passage and place.
then i remembered where my day had started. in nansana uganda, at age 41, as a blooming farmer, a doctor and wife and mother of four. my day had started with a story. it was a story about humility and transformation- about a man who began again. about a successful, wealthy tobacco farmer, convicted by his child to not grow something that kills people, who stopped farming tobacco because it was the right thing to do. and it cost him everything. he lost his money, and his farm. people asked him to return to tobacco- to not be stupid- to do what he did well, but he'd made a promise to his daughter and his God.
two years later, after failing while farming another persons farm, he walked through a forest and cried out to God- those famous cries that i know so well - 'help!' and 'why' and 'show me'. i'm sure he felt totally jipped. he'd made the choice to do a good thing- he'd risked everything to do what was right, and failed. how many times have i felt jipped? have i felt undeserved pain or suffering?
but.
as he put his face on the floor of the forest- this farmer grabbed a handful of earth- and had a revelation. the soil there was rich and moist and dark- the forest was growing steadily- constantly- abundantly with out much tending. he realized he was asking for help in farming, from the original farmer- and that the answers were all around him. the soil was moist and healthy because it was covered in mulch- it didn't need to be tilled and plowed. he realized he had what he needed to grow things well- he just needed to transform the way he was doing it. and he realized that farming doesn't need to cost a lot of money- there are ways to farm the land conservatively and to protect and care for the earth instead of hurting it. that he could honor his promise, and his God- by transforming his methods- and learning from the first farmer.
his breakdown, lead to breakthrough which led to break out. his personal transformation- led to an awareness of the need for transformation in farming- a need to revive and transform the land. his breakdown led to a movement that has blessed and changed subsistence farming in africa. wow. it wasn't easy- it looked bleak- i'm sure he doubted his choice.
in those valley- in the break down - i'm not usually given the answer to why. help, yes. shown, yes. but not the reason.
last night, looking back over years and hearing cover songs that brought me back to perhaps less complicated days- days spent in cities in my own home country, and recalling that morning story of brokenness and redemption, it all swam together, and life felt big and strange and hard, but mostly beautiful and good.
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