yoga inspires me

I know it is the new hip trend and all, and may be a little cheesy to say right out like that, but yoga truly does inspire me.  It makes me appreciate the simple things more, make healthier choices, and be just happier in general, more balanced.  I'm pretty sure I had one of the most emotionally exhausting days - one of those ones where shit keeps getting thrown at you and all you can do is wipe it off and smile.  Anyways, I was in the mood to not do anything involving human contact after that, but I knew I really wanted to go to this yoga class tonight since I'm leaving town on Saturday and won't have my beloved yoga studio to go to anytime I choose.  So, I went.

It was harder than I expected, but always as informative, inspiring, and empowering as usual.  After class, I walk out of there feeling hopeful, purposeful, and intuitive to people, things, and the environment around me.  I know it's not just allocated to my studio, but it is the practice and the spiritual discipline that defines yoga that allows me this feeling.  For those of you yogis out there, you will know that yoga always ends in savasana, or corpse pose.  It is a time to lay and reflect on the parts of your body that have been engaged and activated during your practice.  A scan of your chakras, to understand and absorb what you have done in that time that you chose to focus on your body, as well as what you have done when you have not focused on your body during your day.  It is also a time to just, release.

Tonight during our savasana after my short-form ashtanga class, just as I was sliding into corpse-esque release, a song came on the playlist for the night that sounded like a few buddhist monks chanting Psalm 23, and later the Lord's Prayer.  For any of you that have known me for the past few years, you will know that my connection to the God that Christian's claim as "theirs" has not been so pleasant.  My violet-crown chakra (if you will) is being under-used.  You see, last May I was fired from SpringHill Camps, a non-profit Christian camp organization, on the basis of my being openly gay.  For some reason, just saying that in itself doesn't lend itself to the pain I felt.  SpringHill Camps was my place to develop my spiritual awareness.  It was this place that jump-started one of my favorite qualities about myself - my ability to connect with others on a level deeper than the skin, and the ability to connect with a being greater than myself in a way that makes me feel better connected to my environment and my own self.  It was the reason I decided to go to the college that I now attend (Hope College), because I was hoping to find a similar environment there: one that would empower me spiritually as well as intellectually.  It would be an understatement to say that I was disappointed in what I found at Hope, but I remained hopeful (no pun intended) that I just hadn't found "it" there yet, and I needed to give it another chance.

By my sophomore year at Hope, I had come out as gay to my close friends and to my family and had been dating the same woman I am currently dating for a few months.  I always had a little hesitation to explore the reconciliation between faith and sexuality, but I did find a reconciliation that also supported spiritual beliefs that I have held since I can remember.  It was this reconciliation that made me feel comfortable in my own skin, even if I wasn't comfortable at Hope.  At Hope, the disappointment came from the lack of a community that truly sought out spiritual truth, rather than simply "Christian" truth.  I had a very hard time finding people who were willing to discuss anything but Jesus and what the more right-leaning Church preaches as "good, holy, and righteous."  I wanted spiritual diversity, mutual understanding and inclusivity, the passion for social justice, and the willingness to learn from those who are different, even those who are oppressed.  And I found, none of that.  Actually, one could argue that Hope, as well as much of West Michigan, is the furthest from that.*

All that to say, when SpringHill Camps administrators forced me into a room to discuss how we were to handle "difficult topics" with our teenage campers, proceeded to tell us "if you can't agree that one can 'pray' away or change their homosexuality, please don't say anything", then force me to come out, tell my coming out story to them, explain my acceptance of my sexuality, tell them that yes, I was dating someone openly, and proceed to "redistribute me to another camp site where I won't be a potential threat to campers" (but don't put any other co-workers in awkward situations, please!); it pretty much destroyed most of what I had connected to God, at least the one that Christians claim as "theirs"  (even though, I'm pretty sure (s)he doesn't "belong" to anyone one type of people), and it especially tarnished my view of Christians.  I spent the next year pretty frustrated at my place in life, still at Hope, a place I felt I didn't fit into anymore (and never really did).  Also a place that in the past couple years quite openly declared that they didn't feel comfortable with me being there, at least openly and with the ability to speak.  (For info on this, Google search "Hope College, Homosexuality Statement/Policy" and click any of the links that come up.)

Anyways, back to yoga and the chanting monks.  Because of my quickness to frustration/irritation at most things associated with Christianity (I do admit, not my best quality) I was immediately distracted by the ever-famous Psalm 23 being pronounced during my savasana.  My thoughts were along the line of, "Okay, this guy has studied Indian Philosophy for years, has been to India studying in an ashram, yoga itself is a Hindu practice of inclusive spirituality and wellness, and he's playing PSALM 23 and the Lord's Prayer?!  What the hell, why aren't they chanting from the Bhagavad Gita or something less...Christian?"  I was kind of tense for a few minutes about this, and then I softened up when I recognized that the monks were changing the more Western-recognized pronoun "He" in the verses to "She."  (Actually, I loved that).

When it hit me that I could actually appreciate the psalm, and the monks, and the she; the only way I can describe how I felt is that I felt as if I had realized that I had lost a profound piece of myself and was wondering how I had let it go.  I somehow let my irritation and frustration from Hope and SpringHill and seemingly constant misunderstanding between "LGBTQ" and "Christianity" take over more of my spiritual self than the beliefs that I love and wish to integrate into my daily understanding.  Still in a sort of, stunned, state, the teacher asked us to stretch and "awaken to ourselves" from the savasana and come to a comfortable seated position in order to dedicate our practice.  He asked us, as in the beginning of class, to sit and simply feel the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual activity of our bodies.  To appreciate the time and effort we had just put into them, and dedicate what we will choose to get out of our practice afterwards.  Dedicate the practice to something meaningful, purposeful that we hope to embody as a part of our daily practice.  I dedicated my practice today, to this:

"I dedicate this practice to the more positive pursuit and understanding of my spirit and that of (s)he who is greater than I.  The recognition of the way humanity distorts this vision, but the conscious effort to not let the world's distortion become my own."

Namaste, readers.

*postscript: Well, to be honest, I did find one thing (a class, Intro to World Religions) and an amazing professor who I will always cherish (shout out, Boyd H. Wilson) who was the one who truly led me (I, to this day, call him Guru) in my reconciliation of all these things I was seeking.  I continue to go to his office when I need some release from Hope and it's lack of those things I so crave in a community, or to just bounce ideas off of him.  He always affirms my intuition about the campus community and their lack of spiritual diversity and acceptance of it, but he also always reminds me that at least they take faith as a serious matter that they want to integrate into their lives.

salty, sweaty, beautiful

I think I have a gift for seeing the beauty in most things.  This is something I love about myself.  Right now, in life, I'm trying to just get to know me and then let the other friends in my life get to know her too.  Now, don't get me wrong, I'm totally open to change; but this time it will be for me, not anyone else.  So, with that said, let me paint you a picture of beauty that I took part in tonight.

(For background information, I'm still home for Christmas break and decided to go to my first yoga class in a longgggg time.  I'm in love with my yoga studio at home, and I constantly (inwardly) complain about how I will never find another Body Language anywhere else I choose to live.)

The first thing I do when I step into the warm waiting area is slowly take off my coat and boots.  My bare feet touch the floor, and it's not even slightly cold, but it's still invigorating.  There are others waiting for my class - others that will join me in breathing, living, and working in solidarity together - all of them silently whispering to each other, so as not to disturb the massage and yoga class in session.  The door opens finally and people begin to greet one another.  I stay silent and move into the much more warm yoga room.  You can't even tell the yoga studio is located on the side of a very busy intersection because it is completely silent in the room except for the relaxing sanskrit mantra playing from the CD player.  I lay out my mat, straighten it out, and lay.  First on my back, eyes closed, hands folded on my chest and breath.  Then I hug my legs into my belly and rock back and forth, massaging my spine.  The instructor turns on the space heaters, making the room even more hot and I can already feel my muscles becoming more and more ready to stretch and work.  
Finally, everyone is ready and seated, laying, stretching on their mats.  My eyes stay shut, I'm not even the slightest bit self-conscious, and I notice it.  (That's a first.)  The instructor begins to speak, tells us to meditate.  That many people choose to separate yoga from meditation, and that's simply impossible.  Yoga is meditation, and so that is how we will begin.  She tells a story about our minds and how completely cluttered they always are and that this practice should help us to stop thinking about our minds, and focus on our bodies, come into our bodies.  I find this liberating and erotic, as escaping my mind has always been one of the hardest things for me to do - inhibiting me way too many times in my almost 21 years.  She ends by saying, "sometimes, it's good to lose your mind."  I giggle in my head, but oops, not in my head, out loud.  That's okay, I'm so relaxed and happy I don't even care.  Finally we begin the vinyasa flow.  A breath-timed transition from pose to pose as we stretch, lift, and strengthen all parts of our bodies.  I start to lose count of how many times I've completed the flow and scold myself for keeping count.  I take a deep exhale and forget.  The first drop of sweat falls into my tear duct, stinging my eyes, and I smile.  The instructor has been talking the entire time, but she's getting more and more passionate and so I listen closer.  She starts talking about how we are just bathing ourselves in self-love, and my heart flutters.  I close my eyes and focus on my face, "I love you, face."  Then my neck, "I love you, neck."  Then my chest, "I love you, chest."  Then my arms, "I love you, arms."  My hands, my fingers, "I love you."  My belly, my legs, my feet, my toes, "I love you too."  I feel a little silly saying these things to myself, but as I feel out each part of my body, I notice the sweat covering them and I really do feel as if I am bathing in my own love for myself.  It feels damn good.  By now I'm sweating so much, and feeling so much that I can't tell which salty drop of wet is sweat, tears, or snot.  I don't think I'm crying, but by now, who knows.  
I open my eyes for the first time in what I would guess to be 20 minutes, the first thing I see is a 40-something year old woman, fit as ever, stretching her arms up to the sky.  I can almost feel her self-love, and I suddenly feel connected to everyone in the room.  I listen to everyone else's breath and realize we are breathing at the same rhythm.  All of humanity is connected, and tonight I know that's true.  We continue this for a long time, and by the time we switch to balancing exercises my legs feel like rubber and I'm light-headed.  I head for the water bottle many times during this period.  I start to scold myself for not being able to do some of the poses and then I remember the key rule of yoga, do it at your pace, and do what feels best and right for your own body.  I praise myself for drinking water.  I don't even feel full of myself for it.  
We continue with inversions, 
more balancing, 
more vinyasa, 
more 
and more 
and more 
and sweat is absolutely covering me.  I touch my foot to the floor while in pigeon pose and it slides across the wood floor of it's own accord.  I feel as if we have just started our rest and meditation period, and it's already time for it to end.  I know I look a complete wreck, and I've never felt so beautiful.  As sweat falls from my face to my mat, I tell myself, "this is for you.  for all you've done, and all you haven't done.  I love you."  It doesn't feel like 10 minutes has passed but it has and it's time to awaken from the meditation state.  Before sitting up to end the practice, we roll over onto our side like babies and then sit back up in prayer position.  The instructor talks and I feel like she's speaking straight to me.  "Let go of your worries, and bask in yourself.  The light in me bows in gratitude to the lights in all of you.  Namaste."  Namaste.

a peace inside

just so everyone knows I'm not dead to the blogging world...

I'm not.

There's a lot I'm learning this semester, more than I feel I ever have, and I am treasuring every new gem of knowledge I am gaining. However, the most beautiful thing I have experienced this semester, and will definitely comment on later,

true peace.

It's something that takes a while to come to, like Shakyamuni Buddha who searched and searched and searched for enlightenment, but when he finally gave up and stopped trying, he found it.

Again, there's much more to be said, but for some reason, I feel like I should wait until this semester is over to fully process what I am learning, and decide which of it I will share with the blogging public.

So friends, peace be with you.

SAFARI!

Well, to put it briefly, safari was absolutely amazing.  It was exactly what I needed.

There was a group of 9 of us (including the driver) who went this weekend, all of which (except for maybe one or two) I haven’t had the chance, or taken the opportunity, to get to know very well.  So I was definitely nervous, but also excited at the same time because I could tell that this experience would really bring us closer, even if only a little bit.  It ended up being a lot more than that, and I made a friend who I hope, and pray, will be there forever.  I’ll explain more about that later though. 

We left early in the morning on Sunday and drove the absolutely GORGEOUS 6-hour drive to Murchison Falls National Park.  Seriously, the drive itself was incredible.  The scenery and the jokes we shared just really relaxed me right away.  It felt like such a luxurious vacation.  (Thanks Mom!)  We stopped in Masindi, a small village town, for lunch, and it was so nice to have some recognizable food that I would honestly want in the States.  A real cheeseburger and french fries.  Seriously, every time I leave the country, this is what I crave, and it was amazing to have that after a month of being here without it.  We then continued on to the final two hours of our drive, and started heading into the park.  On our way to the hotel, we were following a car and we watched him swerve off the incredibly bumpy dirt road, hit a ditch, start to flip causing all four-wheels to leave the ground, before smashing into a tree.  I didn’t see it happening, I just saw the car smashed around the tree after it happened, but nonetheless, it was definitely scary and a huge reminder that every minute we have here is a gift.  Luckily, the driver was the only one in the car, and he was completely fine, just a little shaken. 

Before we went to the hotel, we arrived at the point where we were going to hike down to see Murchison Falls.  We got out and began hiking uphill first, to be able to see the falls from the top of a cliff.  The view was incredible.  I had a very familiar feeling in this very unfamiliar place.  I felt the same way I felt when a few good friends and I went to the Bowl during Spring Semester and ate dinner while watching the sunset.  Total peace.  I don’t know that I can completely explain it, but I was completely at peace.  The verse and song that ran through my head the entire day, and in fact, the entire weekend was John 3:8, and the song “Wherever the Wind Blows” by Pillar.

 “The wind blows wherever it pleases.  You hear it’s sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.  So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” 

Every time I would start to get anxious, I would simply close my eyes and listen to the sound of the breeze.  I would feel the goose bumps rising on my arms, I felt enveloped in the wind, a part of it, and as the wind passed over me, my anxiety left with it. 

We took a bunch of pictures at the top of this cliff, and it was really fun because the girl I have made friends with is just as big of a photo geek as I am, probably bigger, so she helped me out a lot.  Then we took a hike down the cliff to the bottom of the River Nile so we could get some more shots of the falls.  It was really cool to just sit on a rock in the middle of the Nile, looking in awe at His incredible Creation.  I am so blessed that I got to do that.  We then took the terrible trek back up the cliff, which nearly took my breath away, and not in the way that the beauty of the falls did.  I got to follow my friend around while she did some video and in doing that I got some pretty cool shots myself.  It was really fun to finally have someone who I could lag behind the group with in order to get a perfect shot. 

We left soon after and checked into the hotel, and it seriously looked like a honeymoon spot.  We had one “hut” per two people that had two beds and a shelf set and mirror inside, and a bathhouse outside.  My friend and I stayed in hut #2, otherwise called “Simba.”  It was so much fun!   On the drive up, this girl and I discussed how we were both really big cuddlers, which pretty much sealed the deal on our friendship for me.  That was when we decided to room together, which was a really great decision because I got to hear a really cool testimony and gain an amazing friend who has now become probably one of the closest friends I have made here.   

The next day we woke up really early for breakfast and headed for the ferry that would take us across the Nile for the game ride, meaning the ride where we would see all the animals.  Once we got across the river, we all piled into the van after popping the roof up so that we could all sit on the roof in order to be able to see everything around us a lot better.  This in itself made my weekend.  I got to sit on the top of a safari van, while driving through the African grasslands, with a view of the Nile and various African animals in their natural habitat.  Excuse me if this whole post is completely cheesy, but it was absolutely amazing.  Again, the wind against my face, pushing my hair behind my ears, the stillness of the scenery, the feeling of my bare feet folded underneath my legs on top of the safari van, the absolute freedom as I lifted my head and hands to the sky while driving down the dirt road through the reservation, was extremely exhilarating and peaceful at the same time.  Again, my adventurous spirit soars. 

We saw everything from water buffalos, to giraffes, hippos, crocodiles, elephants, birds, antelopes, warthogs, and gazelles.  It was amazing.  We then boarded another boat that took us down the Nile near the falls, which was where we saw the hippos, and I took some really great pictures of the Nile.  We went back to the hotel and took a swim in the pool, yes the pool, it wasn’t anything like an American pool, but it felt luxurious despite the horseflies nested in the jets that were above the water level because of the leak in the bottom of the pool.  Our last day we just drove home, stopping for a decent lunch once again, and returned to the house. 

This weekend was everything I needed.  The Lord provided me with a weekend devoted to drawing closer to Him.  I honestly felt refreshed and renewed, and coming back to the house was exciting because I was really eager to get back into our ministry. 

“The wind blows wherever it pleases.  You hear it’s sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.  So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”  

it's been too long.

I will try to keep this post brief, though it has been so long since I updated that I'm not sure if that's possible.  Gosh, where to start.  Well, first of all, I am anxious to leave this place and begin doing hard, manual, exhausting, work.  I have "rested" so much here at home and now I simply want to live life, working in the hot Ugandan sun, and being exhausted by the days end, knowing that I had done something that day.  That something was accomplished for His Kingdom with my hands that He created.

I guess the best way to describe the past month-ish is that God has surprised me in many ways.  I have been earnestly seeking His face in every conversation, walk in the park, word I read, and I have found Him in the most surprising places.  I did notice that I am so anxious to do works for His Kingdom, that I have begun to disobey His order for me to rest and "just be" with Him.  This is what He has asked of me in my preparations, and I guess I have been so excited about Africa that this order is seemingly hard.  Though each time I seek His face, I am brought back into His loving embrace, and am filled with an indescribable and holy peace.  It is at these moments that I allow myself to rest.  I long to carry this peace with me through every minute of everyday.  It is so wonderful.  

One time I would like to share where I experienced God's peace lately was last Sunday.  I had decided to check out a different church that a few friends of mine had gone to that was a bit more contemporary than the church I currently attend.  Just that week, I had finally followed through and had begun to look over and study the scriptures that my coordinators at Empower A Child suggested to me: Romans 12, and Philippians 2:1-5.  This in itself brought me incredible joy.  When I first began to seriously read the Bible this summer, I remember reading the book of Romans over and over again because I loved it so much.  It continues to be my favorite book in the New Testament.  I am always surprised when people comment on how difficult of a book it is, because I am always so blessed by the simplicity of the message God has woven for me into Paul's beautiful words.  Thus, whenever someone suggests that I read a chapter or passage in Romans, not only am I eager to do so, but it just gives me an incredible peace that it is God's hand guiding me there.  Upon receiving this suggestion from the organization I will be traveling with, I smiled because I knew it was a confirmation of my place that He has reserved for me with this organization.  The part of Romans 12 that truly stuck out the most to me, that I feel God wants me to continue to dwell on, is the passage about the Body of Christ.  Being one in Spirit and with Christ, but each part having a different function according to the gifts that we have been given.  This made me question what my gifts are.  This is something I still struggle with.  I've never had the highest self-esteem, and I truly couldn't tell you too many areas I am incredibly gifted in.  The Lord has blessed me with a few answers on the gifts He has given me, but I know there is more that He has blessed me with that I will continue to seek Him on.  However, when I attended this church on Sunday, a guest speaker from California spoke on how to discern the gifts God has given us to be able to understand even a little bit of His plan for our lives.  This was an incredible blessing, and is something I will continue to seek on, as I still do not have all the answers.  After this service, I felt the need to go to a park and just be with God in prayer for a while.  I have to admit, I have been SEVERELY slacking in my prayer life lately, partially because I haven't felt God really speaking anything to me, and I don't know why this frustrates me so much.  So when I got to the park and began to pray, I asked for Him to speak to me.  I received nothing.  Finally, I became brutally honest with Him, I admitted my frustrations to Him and demanded that He speak to me somehow.  At that moment, a gust of wind whistled through the leaves in the tree branches above me, sending goosebumps up my arms, and enveloping me in His holy peace.  That day, God was with me and I could feel it every moment.  He spoke through the wind...incredible!  I remember feeling that wind and smiling as I began to relax in His presence.  God reached down through these gusts of air He created and brushed my hair behind my ears, where He whispered a loving message of peace.  He reminded me that He is with me, and always has been, and that right now He just wants me to be aware of that.  One of the most beautiful experiences of my life.  

All in all, I feel incredibly blessed right now.  There is still much work to be done, and there are still questions that need to be answered.  It's true that there are many paths before me, and that I have a long way to go, but today I just have to take one step.  I am only worrying about today, tomorrow has troubles of it's own.  

This weekend, I am going to visit my roommate before I leave on this incredible journey God is preparing me for.  I am praying that it will be filled with blessings.  

9 days.  It is still hard to believe that the red Ugandan soil that I have only ever dreamed of will be my home in such a short time.