Tag Archives: philosophy

What of mournings

I wrote this poem on September 8, 2015, six days after Aylan Kurdi died during his family’s flight across the Aegean Sea, and photos of his body opened the world’s eyes, sparking ‘this suffering must stop’ statements:

What of mournings

i

Do you think he was afraid?

Or maybe…

living light

(Where in the world is Callie? There was a slight change of plans: it has now been nearly two weeks since we arrived in Rome, Italy, where Mariah and I are volunteering full-time at the Joel Nafuma Refugee Center and at Centro Baobab, two organizations that welcome, support, and care for refugees, migrants, asylum-seeker, humansContinueContinue reading “living light”

The Privilege To Call This An Adventure

The large bus is careening and weaving, whipping over the twisting, compact roads. Occasionally, another bus barrels around a corner and down a hill from the opposite direction, and both vehicles are made to slow so that they might peacefully pass the other, only some four or five inches between the two, squeezed against theContinueContinue reading “The Privilege To Call This An Adventure”

Irish Skies, Soliciting The Soul’s Response

Written while gazing out the window of a bus journeying from Northern Ireland, where we have just spent three days, to Galway and Lehinch, on the west coast of Ireland, where we will spend the next ten days.  I. Sun glides, glints,  gallops across cliffy coast  line, shrouding ground  in gold, then turns fire- some,ContinueContinue reading “Irish Skies, Soliciting The Soul’s Response”

Lake District: A Dialogue Poem

*This is a dialogue poem, to be read across the page as one poem, then down the left and right columns as their own poems. ** The words on the left are a quote by Leslie Kaminoff and Amy Matthews, which I stumbled into reading this morning on the train platform just before leaving theContinueContinue reading “Lake District: A Dialogue Poem”

in the trees

I. This summer, I can be found working nine to five in a windowless cubicle, in the corner of a break room, in the basement corner of a very old and dark administration building. And in those hours, I am doing work about which I am passionate, in which I believe, and of which IContinueContinue reading “in the trees”

six months intentionally whole

It’s been almost six months to the day since I’ve given presence to this blog. It’s not that I haven’t written; I have written much in 2015 (see the ‘poetry’ pages for my most recent work). But often a blog posting seems to require a beginning and an end, polished sentences and verb agreement, andContinueContinue reading “six months intentionally whole”

surrounded by suffering

Some jumbled thoughts on living my days here surrounded by suffering: Throughout much of my time in Kenya, I feel as if suffering surrounds me. Throughout all of my time in the hospital, I feel as if suffering surrounds me. That’s not to say that suffering is all that surrounds me. There is also suchContinueContinue reading “surrounded by suffering”

inadequacy

I sat with two Americans who are working for the Umoja Project and living in the village for some weeks this summer and reflected on life and living in Kenya, future goals, and current struggles. One said she’s always had a passion for living and working abroad, but then she goes somewhere, like being inContinueContinue reading “inadequacy”

translating care

I’ve been considering prayer. In the past week, I walked kilometer after kilometer over red dirt roads, muddy footpaths, rocky hills, grassy plains, splashing puddles, cracked earth, and over the thresholds of the homes of fifteen of the orphans and vulnerable children, specifically those living in child-headed households, that the Umoja Project supports. And asContinueContinue reading “translating care”

pelicans in flight, returning

Reflections on transitions from and toward a year: ——– The new year – moving toward mindfulness, thinking toward thankfulness. One step at a time. Always moments for good, for beauty, for gratitude. In the year ahead, I will pass time, be amongst, laugh with, sit aside, hold, listen to and be heard by, family inContinueContinue reading “pelicans in flight, returning”

in this i believe

Last Saturday we made the journey to Touba to visit La Grande Mosquée; as we bumped along the sandy road, I looked out over the vast Senegalese landscape dotted with sturdy Baobab trees and thought about what it meant to be on, what is for African Muslims travelling to this spiritual center, a sacred journey.ContinueContinue reading “in this i believe”

saying grace

I got stressed, I got overwhelmed. I got bogged down in negativity and frustration. I got lazy in my soul and self-work, losing for a minute my constant striving to live out my beliefs. I forgot what makes this holiday important to me, forgot how much I appreciate this day for stopping us, centering us,ContinueContinue reading “saying grace”

holding conversation

“Being able to hold a conversation is one of the greatest talents a person can possess,” my Grandpa told me. I have thought about those words, and Grandpa, every day that I have been in Senegal. Until he was put in hospice care in March of 2012, my Grandpa was just my Grandpa. He livedContinueContinue reading “holding conversation”

les gris-gris

I have always been a sentimental person. I have always been someone who attaches great meaning and emotion to the things around me. I have always been the person who hid my favorite pair of childhood shorts from my parents because they wanted to give them Goodwill and I wanted to put them in aContinueContinue reading “les gris-gris”

powerlessness

There are times when I feel powerless in Senegal. Much of the time, this powerlessness centers on gender. I feel powerless when I am told the only thing a woman can do when a man harasses her on the street is to keep walking, any sort of counter-remark or telling off by the woman wouldContinueContinue reading “powerlessness”

being here through it

Written 24 September 2013: Today was a hard day for Sarr family here in Sénégal. During the summer of 2011 my Kenyan sister Winnie lived with my family in the US. Toward the end of her stay, the D-H family had a hard day. And I remember so clearly her telling me that she wasContinueContinue reading “being here through it”

this is why i came here

written 19 September 2013  We’re sitting outside, my sister and I, the electricity out and searching for the cool breeze. We’re talking about weddings and clothes and what to do when boys harass you on the street as they often do and the pressures for women which exist across cultures. Papa comes out to joinContinueContinue reading “this is why i came here”