University Lessons

I have four more days of classes.  I don't know why that is so hard to believe, but I'm starting to feel pretty relieved!   Sure, there are also four more exams to do, but they will pass as well.  Everything passes.

It's been quite a wonderful time, this first term.  I find that when I transition to a new place often the first little while is happy and shiny.  So I'm hoping I can maintain this stability going forward, I think I'll be all right.  I've been so blessed here.  Today the sun came out again.  

If I could list the lessons I've started to learn since coming here, this would be it:

1) In the real world, real people do do drugs and alcohol frequently.  It doesn't mean you have to partake.

2) Having your own room is amazing.  Even though the occasional loneliness can make a home there too.

3) While skype is nice, it just really isn't enough.  But you gotta make do.

4) Friendships don't fade after you leave Pearson.  You just pick up where you left off.

5) It's important to meet new people too, especially at Sunday family dinners, those are the best.  Mmm.

6) Don't choose 8am classes, 3 times a week.  Biology isn't worth it.

7) Poetry is a good release.

8) Sometimes you have to let life take the lead and just nod and follow.

9) The best part of dancing is that it requires not thinking.

10) If you ask nicely, usually you will get what you want.

Sky and I

Another one of my many midnight poems.
--


A blue sky beckons,
And I follow her. I follow her up
And away. We danced together,
Her and I, we passed the moon and
Her glimmering white gown, and we
Nodded to the sun with her gleaming
Golden skirt and we did pirouettes on tippy
toes. We floated along clouds and the
Music of the rain pounds,
In between songs I asked her questions
Of what we are doing here, and Twilight
Stepped in and said to me in a whisper that
everything, is connected. He tells me
that all is well and that we are protected.
And so I hold his hand in the pale light
Of morning and I gaze deep into his
Mysterious mournful depths and I say
Thank you.

So we carried on, Sky and I,
We twirled until the Light of Day
Arrived and I asked her why we fear
The dark. She was so wise, and she
Said we fear what we do not want
To accept and what we are unsure of.
Fear, then, is just the beginnings
of Love. Then she took my hand and
Spun me in circles and we laughed
And laughed. Sky wanted to fly
Somewhere else so I left the
Ball and we entered a void.

We met the blackness and
Were consumed by the noise.
Ever since a child I have been
Mystified and afraid of this.
And so we were absorbed, we
Became nothingness and in the
Stark silence I asked where we
Were, and Sky told me we were
In light, with our eyes closed.

Suddenly flashes of lightning
So I am with Sky again and
This time she is singing herself
A lullaby and before I know it
We are in the presence of Star
And I am blinded by her brilliance.
She is so sharp that she knows
My mind already and she has read
My deepest darkest secret. She says,
"Why are you afraid to be your true self?
Those that judge will never see you."

So I begin to plummet because her
Brightness has shone a light into
My soul. I am falling and Sky is too
She is tumbling down in Clouds of grey
And swirling mist and clenched fists and
I want to scream
But I am falling so fast that I dream
Feel my body drifting on
Gentle Breeze and the world is coming
Leaning closer and I don't want
To say goodbye to Sky, she has
Been so lovely, so kind, so wry.
She has been a gracious host and
I will never forget her soft wings
We coast for one last breath,
Until I land.
Cushioning my fall, she holds me.
I gently tumble back to earth
Encircled in Sky's embrace
And she says one last thing to me,
Her kind and gentle face,



I am with you always
Just look up.

Mirrorless Monday

So today as I walked into the women's bathroom in one of the buildings on campus I was taken aback.  Not because of something disgusting or horrific, but because someone had covered the huge mirror with paper and written messages like "You have so many gifts,"  "Beauty is not perfection," and all these other feel-good messages!   It was so lovely.  So what did I do?  Well keep in mind I'm a bit obsessed with inspirational quotes so I pulled out my handy dandy pink highlighter and wrote some more messages.

What a unique, creative, and important idea.

We have some really interesting conversations in my gender and women's studies class.  We talked today about how language is embedded in gender, for example: women or people referring to humanity as "man," and terms like "policeman."   Also did you know that pink used to be associated with baby boys, until the 1940s when women wanted to reclaim it....so now look at what happened!   I am beginning to see how gender is so intrinsic to our daily lives, in so many ways!

This picture is from our women's link at One World 2010 (a show Pearson College puts on every year).  We tied together Maya Angelou's poem, "Still I Rise" with Mulu's story of the status of women in Africa, with Aneke's story of First Nations women.

Here is the beautiful poem,

Still I Rise 


You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise. 

Comptine d'un Autre Ete

Something about this piece of music stirs my very being.    When I hear it I think of my dear friend Zahida playing it for me when I was very sad, I think of my dear friend Belen playing it beautifully in the Max Bell, I think of my dear house-mate Pete playing it in the dayroom, I think of walking through a forest by a lake, I think of gazing out of a foggy bus window, I think of watching the world go by as one is lost in reveries.  It is so touching.  Melancholy yet hopeful.  Reflective and contemplative.  It makes me want to cry and laugh and smile and just live.

Transitions

Fall has faded, winter has floated down and snowflakes cover my campus.  Winter arrived suddenly and with passion, we have about a foot of snow on the ground and tonight my dear friend Camille and I sat in the silence and contemplated the universe.  There is a magic about snow.  As Camille says, "Nothing looks real!"

There is also a magic to life.  I don't know what it is, it is unseen.  There is more to life than what meets the eye.

Kule - How Kenya Opened my Eyes

This blog was partially inspired by my awe-inspiring experience in the summer of 2011 ,when I travelled to Kenya with the Kule organization.  Kule is directed by my awe-inspiring teacher, Geoffrey Tindyebwa (at Pearson College). The trip was phenomenal.  It was a perfectly balanced mix of service, education, fun, cultural exchange, growth, and friendship.

 I did not know what to expect before leaving my comfortable life in Canada, but before I knew it, I was being tossed around like a popcorn kernel in the back of a bus on a dusty road in rural Kenya, surrounded by  wonderful people.  All of a sudden, I was in front of 40 ten year olds trying to teach them something they didn't already know (which proved difficult).  I had to resort to explaining what a lobster was in an attempt to describe fishing on the east coast of Canada.   I was playing with children on a huge field,  I was at a bustling market, I was lifting heavy bags of cow bedding,   I was holding hands with disabled ladies at Mother Teresa's home, I was feeding animals and observing elephants.  Before I knew it, I was witnessing some of the most profound beauty and indefatigable human spirit in the 2nd largest slum in Africa.  I was holding Rose's hand as she showed me down the Kibera roads covered in garbage, excrement, and filth.  I was holding her hand as she told me she wanted to be a lawyer and go to university. I was sitting next to her as women around me discussed how they had been raped.

It was eye-opening to say the least.  One of the biggest ways I found myself staring at the hard cold truth, was the response I received whenever I talked about starting university in September.  It was almost as though telling people this seemingly ordinary fact garnered a round of applause.  People told me I was blessed. People told me this was a gift of God, this education.  People told me I would live a good life if I studied hard at university.

I am ashamed to say I never really appreciated the opportunity to attend university. I didn't really value it because it was always meant to be.  I knew I was going to go to university somewhere.  My foolish worries about not having a closet seemed pathetic in comparison to visiting an orphanage in Murang'a where the children had no pillows and slept 10 to a room.

I know it sounds cliche to say, "I went to Africa and it changed my life,"  and I was reluctant to participate in the sort of volontourism that runs rampant today.  I didn't want to travel as some wealthy westerner trying to "fix" people because the truth was, everyone I met in Kenya was much happier than the average Canadian.  They had hardly anything, but they were happier.  They lived together, they relied on one another, they had a strong faith, and they worked hard.  I do not want to romanticize their lives because obviously they face immense challenges like lack of clean water, food, and just aching poverty.   But as I stared out the window mesmerized by the incredible rift valley, all of my ideas of "right and wrong" flew out the window with my breath.

I vowed to myself after a day of glimpsing the sadness in the eyes of one young woman at the local high school, as we talked about scholarships (and the one I had been graciously given), that I would never take my university education for granted. I would learn here on behalf of all those beautiful faces that never could.  I would learn here because I have a duty to try my best because I have been given the world.   That might sound arrogant or weird or cheesy again, but once I saw the reality of how privileged we are in Canada, I couldn't return to the consumerist self-absorbed culture we were accustomed to.

I felt helpless sometimes in Kenya.  I didn't feel like I was doing anything there and couldn't understand how I was contributing.  Then the art teacher at Pearson, Jecton, said something profound and it helped:  he said, that just by visiting these people, we had brought them a kind of international experience.  There's no saying how many  of them will make it past the borders of their country, their province, or their town.  Our presence helped to break down some stereotypes (like white people are capable of physical labour), and in turn we learned that starving children in Africa is a stereotype our media has proliferated. I did not see a single bloated belly malnourished stick child during my entire time.

Maybe this all still sounds cheesy and hopelessly romantic, but I hope that after this experience I can continue to feel connected to all people, everywhere.  We are truly a human family, depending on each other.

Here is a link to a video my very talented friend Niklas made while on our trip....it takes a long time to load but hopefully you'll get a glimpse of our time there:   http://dl.dropbox.com/u/18506892/Kenya%20KULE%202011%20-%20720p.mov

Hold me, Rock me

I sang this song in my high school choir and came across a lovely rendition done by another choir and it brought back some happy memories.  Enjoy!  It's a beautiful song.

Homecoming

Coming home is like waking up in the morning to sunlight streaming through soft blinds and then realizing you have nothing to do and no where to go, so you just breathe in morning.   Coming home is lingering in the kitchen at 12:30am eating seaweed or yogurt or whatever you desire because there's no one who will judge you for what you are doing.  Coming home is walking in the oceans of people at Commercial skytrain station and feeling perfectly at ease or watching west broadway roll lazily by as you stare out on a warm autumn day.  It is realizing how beautiful this place is in  the golden haze before dusk and driving with people you love until night whispers a  lullaby in your ear.

Bliss, Love, Wisdom

If I could learn to treat triumph and disaster the same, then I would find bliss.
- Kathie Lee Gifford

Let your love be like the misty rains, coming softly, but flooding the river.
~Malagasy Proverb

Anyone can carry his burden, however hard, until nightfall. Anyone can do his work, however hard, for one day. Anyone can live sweetly, patiently, lovingly, purely, till the sun goes down. And this is all life really means. 
~Robert Louis Stevenson

The Prophet

Kahlil Gibran was nothing short of a genius.  A poet, an artist, a philosopher....his many works have been translated into countless languages touching people worldwide for several decades after his death.  One of my all time favorite books is The Prophet by Gibran.  Here is one of the most wonderful passages ever written, in my humble opinion: 

The Prophet on Self Knowledge
by Kahlil Gibran

And a man said, speak to us of Self-Knowledge.
And he answered saying:
Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.
You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.

And it is well you should.
The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea;
And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes.
But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;
And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.
For self is a sea boundless and measureless.

Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."
Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."
For the soul walks upon all paths.
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

Dog Days Continue

So I have a wonderful friend named Julie, who I first met because she stalked me on the internet.  Haha maybe not stalked, but was so deeply interested in UWC that she took measures to get in touch with me.  So this is getting back at her!  Well she was accepted, thank goodness, and I had the great fortune of getting to see her wide smile many days last year.  I miss her very much so here is a song that reminds me of her....in fact she is the first one who told me about this wonderful song. 

Go Florence! Go Julie!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMuCME6Oewk&ob=av2n (this link seems to have better sound than the video below....)

What a performance.

This is her latest single and I LOVE IT!  I also love this music video, especially her red dress and when she spins.  Oh so amazing.