How will I demonstrate humility this week?
A sticky-note containing this question has been facing me for the last three or four weeks. (Literally - it's stuck on my desk). This question came from a homily that I heard a few weeks back. The sermon came at an appropriate time, as evidenced by another point that stuck with me:
"When we are itchy, we scratch. When we scratch, we get at the source."
A few years back, I had an epiphany. A mind-blowing revelation. I don't really like to take pictures. Actually, let me rephrase that. I love taking pictures - that's the problem. I realized that in the process of trying to pursue a perfect shot, I was missing out on what I was actually seeing. Don't get me wrong, photography is a beautiful art. But it's also important to see the real thing - to risk forgetting in the name of being fully present in the moment. (See this post from last year about my love/hate relationships with the "last look".)
This explains why I've been so slow on the grad school updates; in my effort to be present I have decided that, for the first month, I would concentrate solely on my adjustment. Sometimes, I have to stand back in order to process. So...this grad school thing? Here's where I come back to humility.
I am humbled each and every day.
I am humbled by the fact that I do not know even a speck of what there is to know. (Not that I ever thought I knew anything in the first place...not for a second). There are so many forces at work in the world, which lead me to even more questions. One of my professors summed it up well the other day: If you all don't leave with more questions than you arrived with, we haven't done our jobs.
Questions. A loaded word. Especially here.
I stepped into one of my classes, "Way of Council," for the very first time a few weeks back. Having gone to UMass, I thought I'd seen it all as far as nontraditional class experiences. But not even I could have been prepared for what the next three hours would bring. Apparently, the word "class" at SIT can be code for "three-hour therapy session." In a class about active listening and creating healing through circle processes, our first go-around proved downright emotional. The question was: "What brought you here?" A question that, over the next forty-five minutes, would move three-quarters of my class to tears. (Myself included, but that's not entirely shocking).
Why was this question an emotional one? I am sure each person in the class could give you a different answer. But the truth is, the question "What brought you here?" is not just about the present.
What brought you here? This means that we all have a there.
But where/what is there?
Unfulfilling jobs. An undying passion. War. Poverty. Families left behind. A devoted spouse. The need to shake things up and create change.
Death.
Supportive parents. In my case, two of the most incredibly supportive parents. The second I told my mom last January that grad school was on my radar, she gave me a huge hug. Yes, Maria. This is for you.
And yes, I say parents with an s. Because even after his death, my dad supports me in more ways than I can count. In more ways than I can express in this space. And I'm trying my hardest to make him proud of me.
The "theres" in our lives, the questions, the people left behind, the baggage...it can make all of us "itchy." We all get itchy sometimes. (I'm sure a few of my lovely friends will find a way to make this dirty, but bear with me.) It's okay to be uncomfortable. With uneasiness comes exploration. Surprises. Further questions.
When we're itchy, we scratch and we get to the source.
When I am uncomfortable, I stretch. When I stretch, I surprise myself.
Wow. How liberating it feels when I surprise myself. How freeing. How downright unbelievable.
How uncomfortable I felt on that first day walking into a pseudo-cafeteria to meet a hundred people, none of whom I had any connections to whatsoever. Uncomfortable, yes. But in the midst of that discomfort, I had no choice but to put myself out there.
The result? New friends from all over the United States and over a dozen countries. A few special people have already become beautiful additions to my life, and we are only in week five or six.
With all of these questions...questions about international education, questions about the current state of the world and questions about how the hell I can help when so many tragedies still happen each and every day. Heck, I'm even beginning to question my own interests! But, as I reflect on these questions (which, on occasion, include questions about my own sanity), I begin to realize that I would much rather question than remain stagnant. Life is far too precious for that.
I'll take being itchy any day, as long as itchiness = growth. And I am already doing some serious evolving.
....be right back, I have a mosquito bite to scratch.
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