To Swim With Scar Burnt Fingertips

With burnt and blistered fingers i passed the torch to you like an Olympian

Like you were the last and fastest runners of all

This poison dipped flaming stick of a torch was a legacy that, through you, would become a legend

Years passed since the blisters on my fingers have dried and you keep running

While the poison strips the sparkle from you eyes you run

I never saw someone run so fast while removing and reapplying neon toenail polish

Stamping painful request for forgiveness into occasional prayer slots is no way to live, I know

I've run torches through living rooms, I've burned houses and homes in their wake

I've cut life lines with blistered fingers and stamped hundreds of tattered infrequent envelopes filled with forgiveness prayers

But the torch has been passed and looking around, everyone has scar burnt fingertips

There aren't a whole lot of options are there, but there is always hope

So if i can my friend, i want to pass on a few more things to you

First is a prayer book cut into little strips of gauze that you can bandage your blistered fingers with every morning and evening

I'll show you how to call 95 lifelines a day even if you still have to hang up every once in a while

I'll ink spirals into you elbows and kneecaps, so when you fall and skin them you wont forget where your going, and you'll never get discouraged by how long it's taking

I'll pray detachment into heart shaped slippers that are terrible for running

But instead are more suited for the sandy shores of devotions where we walk the thin line

Where the Ocean of God's Law meets the desert we trudge through to get there

I don't care how long or hard you trudge in those sands, the hardest step you will ever take is when you lead to leave that shore behind and swim

For that my friend I can't prepare you, I've never swam there

But I've found that I can stitch obligatory gifts into a life raft just big enough to keep my head above water

Wait! wait, wait...

I've gotten ahead of myself, this all begins with something you must do alone

Only you can find the pain in your life th cry the poison from your eyes, and then, alone, with new vision, you have to choose

To stop running, to let your blistered fingers dry, and put out that torch, once and for all

When you do I want you to call me, I'll come over with these things to pass on

I'll climb to my knees, take your feet in my hands, and wash away the dust from all that running

So call me when you cry, the choice is yours, and until them, so is this poem

Well Water

“You don’t miss the water till the well runs dry.” Its true you know, we often walk through this life without a moments consideration of the sweetness of that refreshing glass of friendship, or a steaming baths of homely comforts. Friendships of the higher nature, my yoga mat, peanut butter with one ingredient (PEANUTS!), grassy yards, clean water, poetry readings and alone time are just a few from my list of proverbial well waters that have, for the time being, run dry.

I recently found this saying in new light: If I was a yoga mat, my yoga mat, basically appreciated for its function, but perhaps never fully recognized for the fullness of its offering, I believe I would feel the lack. I would not mourn my plight nor focus of the superficiality of our relationship, but, one way or another, I would know something was missing. And, being that mat, I can just imagine the sweetness of the moment when someone prostrates themselves on my back, before almighty God, and find true gratitude for my gifts. They slip to their knees from the final postures of Surya Namaskar and fold into child’s pose. They lay their forehead neatly between my scapulas and release every muscle until they nearly kiss my spine. They will love the space I create for them because they have been without it for too long. They will root their bare feet into the earth through me, and bless the day they decided I was never to see the bottom of a shoe. While my true value will never be estimated, I will feel no lack and find a moment of fulfillment. I will be the well water, replenished.

So I am making another list, but this time I am going to record those things I do not lack, but will miss when I do. It will require a great deal of spiritual perception, reflections, and gratitude, to penetrate the veils imposed by everyday life and recognize the worth of those thing we tend to appreciate only after loosing. Essentially this task is to miss water… while drinking it.

What has inspired me on this course? Well, lately I’ve been feeling a lot like well water after a drought. We (Philip and I, as always) have returned to Kingston to find friends who treat us like prized yoga mats. I don’t know whether the reunions have given them an appropriate setting to express the appreciation they had all along or if the separation itself has increase the joy of our friendships, but the joy is there.

Friday night we arrived in the sandy park neighborhood right about sunset. Weaving between houses and shops we made our way along the narrow, uneven paths to the cluster of home where most of our friends are concentrated. We round the corner and start climbing the final steps to the first yard where friends live. We can already hear the sound of children playing, even over the loud hip-hop-dancehall beets being blasted out over the rooftops of the neighborhood. As we climb I can begin to pick out the voices and laughs of particular children as they echo down the steps towards us. The usual suspects alright, in all their wild-child-glory. “ah who dat de?...” one voice calls, but our reply is unnecessary. “See dem de, Philip an’ Mercy ah come!!” Crissy cries. A tidal wave of children and youth spill out of the yard and comes crashing down the steps. We are literally swarmed by children, jumping, hugging, yelling, high fiving, laughing and climbing up our backs. I expected such a welcoming on our first visit last Monday, but I kind of thought they would tire by the third time in five days. I was joyously mistaken. We spent the evening wrestling, dancing, handstanding and cartwheeling with Jr Youth, while carrying, tossing, flipping, and tickling the children. This poem is for them and their playful spirits.

***

I’ve found forgotten memories in untold futures

Searched for steady ground in hourglass sand dunes

Torn out wasp nests looking for honey and found it there

I’ve cartwheeled mud into the knees of my trousers at midnight with laughing children

You know, I’ve never lost sleep me following their spirit with them

And I’ve never lost spirit them following their dreams without me

They’re way too good at digging for wasp honey like it was forgotten pocket lint

Hourglasses might as well last an eternity because they’ve never seen the last sand fall

Their whole lives are untold futures, and they aren’t going to wait for someone else to tell it

Stories fall like sand and form honey combs under pillow cases where children rest their dreams and sleep their days into years

***

Cayman taught me many things, but from them all one in particular stands out. I was reminded of how rich and fulfilling the friendships we are striving to create must be. Even though my business is friendship, I don’t have to be so… “businessy.” Creating that richness is my responsibility, which I can’t expect anyone else to carry. I think that gratitude and compassion are two of the most might keys to the heart of a friendship. So, like I said, I’m making a list. I’m searching for the higher measure of gratitude that seems to elude us until the well runs dry, and trying to remember to some droughts never in this life.

If you think this is a "nice idea" make your own list, but don’t stop there. Figure out how you can express you gratitude for everyone and everything that you might not miss till they’re gone.

Warm regards, Your fellow soul, Mercy

Prayers with friends, as good as it gets.

Apparently Danae has some dance moves to show off.

"STOP TRYING TO CATCH THE MOTH! You've injured its wing and if you catch it again it will likely die. Look how beautiful it is when you just watch it, see it's landed on the wall just so we can look at its beauty. Everyone look at the moth and I will take a photo."

Reflections

The past week has been a blur of making new friendships, and building on existing ones. I feel most blessed and awed by the love and trust that has come so naturally into these relationships. Which makes the next piece bitter sweet. WE ARE GOING TO KINGSTON! We received our visa granting documents today and plan to be on the Sunday evening flight home. I’ve been bubbling over thinking about our return with a fresh outlook and widened perspective.

Happy Birthday to Philip (singing), he is a quarter of a century old, but Alicia (our best friend) decided he might actually be two. So she baked him an amazing cake and put a big number 2 candle on top. She then proceeded to give him an Elmo card, which wished him a happy 2^nd birthday, a little toy car, and a picture book that teaches him about his mouth. I don’t know why she gave him the book; I doubt he’ll be able to read until he is at least 4. I hope she doesn’t expect me to read it to him.

Also this week, I celebrated my 6 week anniversary of arriving in Cayman with a long session of quantum mechanics and mind boggling properties of the physical universe. I figure it was my anniversary; I deserve a little break to focus on the physical plane. Now when people ask what I learned in Cayman, I can say:

I relearned that one cannot simultaneously measure, with definite accuracy, the momentum and the location of say, an electron. The more accurately one property is measured the less accurately the other measurement will be.

I also found that Quantum Wave Function Entanglement is being used by many scientists to draw conclusion about the underlying oneness of our physical reality, and even the harmony of science and religion. When the wave functions of two or more particles become entangled they can travel to opposite ends of the planet and still hold a perfect influence over each other. Their entanglement might cause one to spin up while the other spins down until they simultaneously shift into an alternative spins, perfectly balanced against each other, across untold distance. This can go on forever as far as we know. But the moment one particle is disturbed, without an instants delay, the other, no matter where it is, contradicts the disturbing force to maintain the balance, and the wave function collapses. Now that’s beautiful! (this is not scientific fact, it is just my understanding from what I have looked into so far)

The words of Abdu'l-Baha remind me: “ As a Persian Poet has written: -- ‘The Celestial Universe is so formed that the under world reflects the upper world.’ That is to say whatever exists in heaven is reflected in this phenomenal world.” Hearing this I find even greater beauty in this connecting, unifying, balancing occurrence scientists are calling Entanglement. I will let you decide for yourself what heavenly truth it reflects.

It is really getting late, so I will have to sign off for now. Perhaps next week I will have more to say about what I learned from my time in Cayman. Until then… Make a new friend! They will change your life.

(Mercy, Chris, Philip): Chris has reminded me to learn something new every day. He derives more fun from one game of Frisbee than most people are lucky to have all week. His exuberance for life is should be a mandatory curriculum in every primary school. Thanks Chris!

Across the Distance

Across the Distance: I feel the sun set behind Jamaican Blue Mountains.

We remain in Grand Cayman for the time being. So far our visit has, to date, yielded no less than five whole friends, 7 half friends, and one baby friend. We are very blessed, thank you Roberta, Alicia, Keyda, Tatiana, and Chris! We love you. Nonetheless our stay here draws closer and closer to an unknown departure date shrouded in the veil of bureaucracy. While we will undoubtedly miss these ever loving, accepting and generous friendships, we stand expectant of the promised moment when this veil will be cleft asunder by the coming of the Visa, reborn from the Jamaican Ministry of labor.

Now, with the arrival of sad news, my heart turns to Jamaica and asks God for its protection. Kingston is my post, my assigned measure, my task and my cherished undertaking. Even now, 270 miles away over the turbulent stormy waters of the Caribbean Sea, I find my work continues, but not in body. When turning to Kinston my mind automatically goes to one of two communities. During the three and months we were there, we split most of our time between the concrete paths and front yards of Sandy Park, and the steep mountain side tire-stair-steps and cramped living rooms of Highlight View. Home away from home, away from home. In these neighborhoods we were just starting to feel like regulars.

Every Sunday I’d bus from prayers at the center to market in Papine, where I bought my lunch from the Rasta man. Then I’d sweat the twelve minute shade-less walk to Highlight. The washed out mess-of-a-road into the neighborhood is lined with little shops and cook huts. I’d greet the chatters at the first two shops, the gamblers at the third, barbers at the fourth and smokers at the fifth. Okay, they’re all smokers, but these guys JUST smoke. I’d have lunch with Joan, bless with the church ladies, play with the kids and chat with the parents, all of which would eventually lead to a virtues class for 7-10 yr old at around 4pm. This was the way of things on just about any day of the week in one neighborhood or the other.

We found ourselves being greeted by name, by people we hadn’t yet met. We saw more and more faces we recognized from the hoods in the market, on the street, or at the bus stop. We had begun to integrate our lives into theirs, and theirs into ours. I am not writing this to lament the lost time of the last month and a half in Cayman or even reminisce what awaits us when we return. This all comes to mind because early this week we received an email telling us that a family of seven died in Sandy Park as their home was swept away by rising flood waters. They weren’t in our youth group or attending our prayer gathering, I don’t know their names and have yet to see pictures of the faces, which I may or may not know. But they were part of my life. They were within my assigned measure and part of my cherished undertaking.

Now I extend my heart 270 miles, and prayerfully walk the concrete paths of Sandy Park. I have found great comfort in my prayers. Through them, I hold hands with children on their way to class; I bless with church ladies, and have lunch with Joan. I whisper words of encouragement into the ears of children’s class teachers, and spell service onto open hearts. I live in Cayman, but I pray in Kingston Jamaica, in Boone North Carolina, in Iran, China, St. Lucia, St. Croix, St. Thomas (USVI & JA), Antigua, Martinique, Barbados, Trinidad, Tobago, Guadeloupe, Dominica, Grenada, and the Bahamas. I pray in streets, classrooms, sewing rooms, universities, front yards, sidewalks and coffee shops.

Friendships of the Heart.

Dear World Embracing Spirit,

Thank you!

I believe I met one of your most cherished daughters the other day. She swung her neighbor’s fat baby girl from her hip, with relaxed ease. Those who know her speak of refreshing friendship that has the power to heal hearts. She sells smiles for glances, no matter what expressions accompany them. She deals them all the way to work, like she just overstocked and there’s no time to lose. They all gotta go! On her thirty third birthday she wrote you a love letter full of thankfulness for everything you have given her. On the other side she wrote herself a birthday card, which she signed for all her friends who called from her homeland to bless the day she was born. She is frequently overcome by her exuberant enjoyment of life and laughs herself to her knees, a laughter which far exceeds the bounds of “contagious” and is more properly described as addictive. O Divine Mother, she if surely created in your image.

GRATITUDE!

“On the recollection of so many and great favours and blessings, I now, with a high sense of gratitude, presume to offer up my sincere thanks to the Almighty, the Creator and Preserver.” ~Willian Bartram~

Dear friends, family, and random blog stumblers,

I am writing from the Cayman Islands. Some of you will surely know why by now, but some will not. Philip and I had to leave Jamaica because we are applying for work visas and cannot be in the country while they are processed. This takes 4-6 week, and I have been here 4 weeks today.

CONTENTMENT!

I am filled with gratitude for my rediscovered appreciation of the Will of God. My time here has been a test of a very odd sort. I know, tossing your shirt to the wind, slipping on fins, and kicking your way through crystal blue waters to a thriving reef is rarely, if ever, someone’s definition of a test, but for his servants God is always making exceptions, so why not here. Most simply put, for those who love their work, work is love, and vacation is without. While this is not a vacation, our work has dropped from 6 full days a week, to 3 or 4 weekly task. I have found the repetition of four words very sustaining in this time. “God’s will be done.” I live without a doubt that our being here is the Will of the World Embracing Spirit. That knowledge is all I need, I am content.

“I have left behind me impatience and discontent. I will chafe no more at my lot. I commit myself wholly into thy hands… I know not what fate thou designest for me nor will I inquire to seek to know. The task of the day suffices for me and the future is thine.” ~George Townsend~

FRIENDSHIP!

Photo (Left to Right): Philipe, Alicia, Keyda, Princess, and Tatiana.

I have also found a swell in my heart at the appearance of three new friends. The story goes a little like this: We went with Roberta, our gracious and dedicated host, to a neighborhood where she knew one lady, Alicia, who was a friend of the Baha’is. Alicia greeted us at the road and led the three of us, Roberta, Philipe, and me, to her house. She introduced us to Jenny, one of the ladies she lives with. Alicia and Jenny are both from Honduras so their first language is Spanish, which Roberta speaks quite fluently, but Jenny soon showed us her excellent English skills by carrying on a long conversation with Roberta. I spent the next forty five minutes playing my Ukulele and silently praying for Roberta to have confidence and joy as she spoke with Jenny about faith, God, culture, community, language and family. Even having just met her and only exchanging the few Spanish phrases I know, I was drawn to Alicia’s silent grace and joy. Something about her glowed, a deep happiness I would say.

By the third time I saw Alicia I was beginning to realize she understood and spoke more English than I thought. We had invited her to study a book with us at Roberta’s house called reflections on the life of the spirit (this is the first in a series of books design to empower individuals to look after the spiritual wellbeing of their communities). With very few contacts on the Island and only having become more attracted to Alicia’s radiant smile and warm heart, Philip and I were excited to hear she had a birthday coming up. When we found out she had no plans we insisted on helping her celebrate, she soon accepted.

And that is how I came to pass, that on September 23^rd, the same day my father was born, we made our first friend in Cayman. It started with cheese cake, as many good things do. It grew through Philip’s often ridiculous, but great friendship-making-jokes. And ended, as many good things do, with the words “I love you” eagerly and honestly exchanged between friends.

Keyda, our second friend, is Alicia’s neighbor. She is from Nicaragua but has been living here in Cayman for four and a half years. She has a fat baby girl who we all call Princess; she is our third friend, though she is still warming up to Philipe. They brighten our days with an uncanny radiance. Keyda is a constant source of clever jokes, Spanish lessons, many odd and often funny questions, and every once in a while a moral dilemma. Princess is full of slobbery teething kisses, wet and curiosity fingers, and two toothed laughing smiles. Alicia seems to gives us all a glimpse into the reality of joy; for her it is not a state to be achieve, but rather a quality of her soul. She embodies and emanates joy. She has brought us more laughter than I often feel I could deserve.

“…resemble the life of the angels in heaven -- a life full of joy and spiritual delight, a life of unity and concord, a friendship both mental and physical.”

~ Abdu'l-Baha~

ONENESS JOUREYS.

Your fellow soul, Mercy.

Building Homes

Debbie:

She is a large woman, not just chubby, but tall. She wears shirt that barely contain her swollen stomach. She has big gaps between all of her front teeth that show all the time when she smiles. She talks with a voice that has seen far too many cigarettes and splifs, but that doesn't make her words any less sincere. Her sincerity is of someone who has nothing to loose.

She tells us that what she really needs is a job, but is always willing to take a prayer instead. We told her that prayer was what we had, and she accepted it gratefully. Debbie has Five boys, ranging from 4-26 years old... SHE HAS SEEN HARD TIMES.

Debbie is a friend ours, mine and Philip's. She knows we have something to share wants it for her whole family. She tells us to come on Fridays so her whole family, children, sisters, cousins and all, can share in "Reflections On The Life Of The Spirit." We explain to her how it serves as the first step for them to build a more unified neighborhood, and she understands and believes in this process. She know us for our prayers and the beauty and sincerity of our words, but no matter how beautiful, they are still just words.

Friday is for Friendship. Debbie flashes her friendly smile when she sees us coming down the path, but the stresses worries of the day quickly revealed themselves in her face. She points at an enormous pile of sand that was obviously just drop off, and tells us it needs to be taken to her house about 50 meters down the path. It is just starting to rain, but the storm is on the way.

Her face showed her regret, for having to postpone our time together yet again, but she shone like a diamond when we picked up the shovels and started to load the two wheel barrows. You could almost see our friendship transform in her mind. Our care and dedication to her well being had transcended words and was being expressed in deeds as solid as the concrete that the sand we loaded would become. We spent the next hour and a half loading sanding into the barrows, then talking to her while two other young men ran them to the house. Our friendship became something she was proud of. She told passers by about us and what we do. One of them made a joking comment that it was a long time coming that some Jamaicans stood around while some white males did the work.

We laughed, learned and sang prayer songs, built veritable friendships, and have the blessing of being able to show our love through actions.

"Do not be content with showing friendship in words alone, let your heart burn with loving kindness for all who may cross your path."

(Abdu'l-Baha, Paris Talks, p. 15)

Day to remember: June 1st 2010

This is the day that we finally received our assignments for the year. We had been informed that it would be the day, but we didn't know when. We, the twelve pioneers that were new to the Caribbean Initiative, had come from all over to Trinidad without knowing where we would be living for the next year. Having finally arrived after months of planning we waited a week while the coordinating team of Continental Counselors found the right combination of two pioneers and one community. This was the source of the rising excitement and joy on the blessed day of June 1st 2010.

I think it was the end of the lunch break that I first realized a pair of pioneers following uncle Bobby (counselor Ganesh Ramsahai) into his office, where I correctly guess the rest of the coordinating staff was waiting. With my curiosity stirring I approached a few other pioneers to ask if any of them had received their assignment yet. A few of the had but they said it would all be announced at once.

In the previous week I had done a really good job of staying detached from the outcome of my assignment, but if I was to be completely honest I felt drawn to somewhere more rural and traditional like Dominica, because it would be in tune with my lifestyle and experiences. This said I really was ready to happily accept anything.

Before I knew it Bobby was next to me asking if I would like to get Philip and come with him. I was filled with exhilaration as I went to where Philip was in conversation, and asked if he wanted to go for a walk. At first he didn't get it, but I think he saw uncle Bobby because he got up and walked with us into the Office. We were greeted by the warm and smiling faces of the counselors. We sat, I offered a prayer, and they told us they would like us to spend our year serving the Kingston cluster of Jamaica.

Well this was the polar opposite of what I was drawn to, and I knew Philip the least out of the guys that didn't have service partners, But as soon as counselor Debbie Kirton told us where our new home was to be something inside me said, very strongly, "that's perfect." The words repeated in my mind, "that's perfect, that's perfect, right, wonderful, amazing... perfect." They briefly gave us more information about the state of the community so we could begin to form ideas of the work to be done. Then we were dismissed.

Later, after rejoining the group of excited pioneers who were all fighting their ardent desires to share the news of their assignment, Uncle Bobby asked for every ones attention. I know that I cant adequately describe the energy or atmosphere of what followed, but I will try. First, it is important to remember that a majority of the seventy some odd people gathered there were dedicated Caribbean Islanders who have been laboring, in some cases with very few numbers, for the betterment of their communities for years, and in a few cases for generations. They were members of National Spiritual Assemblies, cluster agencies and those actively engaged in the process of development in their home clusters. And no one knew who was to receive pioneers.

It is with that sense of anticipation that silence fell. As Bobby prepared us for the unveiling of our assignment I was deeply moved, largely by the reverence I notice spreading from him into everyone there. This was the inauguration of a spiritual conquest. One by one the name of a country was called out followed by the name of the new pioneers that would be joining the ranks of service to that community. The responses were inspirational. With each new announcement, a new level of celebration. Many clapped or cheered, others jumped for joy and gave congratulatory hugs. I recall Watching a mother and daughter leap from their seats and run, tears already beginning to flow, to embrace the souls who would be joining them in their long and lonely efforts. By the time he reached Jamaica, which was one of the first to be announced, being struck by just a glimpse of the true significance of our efforts had reduced me to joyous laughter as Jamaicans swept me into warm embraces and offered gratitude for this great day. This truly was a day to remember.