Pacing

UP's director DB often starts Camp training by telling staff that "This is a Sprint and a Marathon." This past week felt like a sprint - to today's accomplishment - and now I enter the marathon. The accomplishment was convening twenty spectacular volunteer coaches and coaches-in-training for the beginning of a year of skills-building, ultimate-playing, and learning more about each other - representative of what we are encouraging young people to do :-)

Leading up to today, this is some of what I did: created/released a survey then analyzed answers, negotiated logistics, swept and squeegied, talked about many different approaches to certain topics, sent bunches of emails/announcements. Finally yesterday, I felt some real clarity about the purpose of the meeting - thanks to SBC for the "Cool Tools for Hot Topics" book recommendation. So the goals were roughly to find some agreement among us as year-round coaches, identify needs we have as coaches and participants in UP, and start to brainstorm ways of addressing those needs.

Naturally, one of the best parts of gathering for this kind of meeting was the quality time with loved ones. We really are a family. Everyone knows a few family members who are notoriously late. Despite that, we had a couple hours of great discussion in different formats, learning about sports for development and peace, brainstorming ways of incorporating values into our activities, and how to communicate with each other. Then we played ultimate on a basketball court - something like 45 minutes of it, yeah! Here's what one workshop today looked like. Happy about the number of people, the diversity of the group, and everyone's energy.

Kibbutz place

This is my fourth visit to my friend's kibbutz, and about time to write about the place.

First off, the kibbutz is situated into a city which is on a huge hill, and overlooking Nazareth. Most of us know Nazareth as the place where Mary had her home, Jesus developed his trade, and so on. Driving to this kibbutz, then, involves passing through Nazareth (presently a religiously mixed Arab city) and winding upwards from there. Even once at the top of this high hill above Nazareth, the kibbutz is situated well above street level.

The kibbutz's main entrance has an electronic keypad, but that is about the highest-tech thing around. There are somewhat dusty libraries and simple guest rooms, laundry facilities at the end of halls and family's private apartments, big common kitchens and normal meeting rooms.

The foyer areas are huge, and on different floors feel completely different. One features lots of empty space lit by flourescents, just somewhere to Prasad through. Another looks like a playground by day and toy cemetery by night...the bicycle helmet laying alone and upside down is a testament to both.

My favorite activity when staying over here, aside from hanging out with my friend, is picking at the extensive bookshelves around. There are books (in English and Hebrew) on socialism, racism, soccer, and passion, to name just a few. I miss having this kind of access to such a wide breath of info. Also because the people here take a critical look at the world, including the Arab/Palestinian question, I especially like the book selection on that topic. Here is a picture of one such shelf

Robert Greenleaf - some leadership stuff

“Awareness is not a giver of solace—it is just the opposite. It is a disturber and an awakener. Able leaders are usually sharply awake and reasonably disturbed. They are not seekers after solace." 

I'm reading an article for class about servant-leadership, the little-known phrase for a much-practiced leadership approach. Larry Spears is the author of The Understanding and Practice of Servant-Leadership and quotes above Robert Greenleaf. Spears (no relation) was at the time of this writing the executive director of the Robert K. Greenleaf Center for Servant Leadership, where I'm doing a fellowship.

My fellowship focuses on improving the Greenleaf Center's membership program -- offering benefits to members, finding new members, and engaging current members more heavily in the leadership conversation and journey. I've sent out a couple of surveys, researched some other groups, tried to understand the field and the organization. And I've got to produce some findings soon.

In the mean time, the quote above reminds me of my time at the Open Door Community on Ponce de Leon Ave here in Atlanta. One of the leaders there insists that too many people are well-adjusted to the wrongs of the world (like homelessness, poverty, and racism). And that our task in life is not to acclimate and accept them but to reject and act to change them. This can take a fierce amount of awareness and radical defiance of cultural norms.

Thoughts welcome.

Ultimate Peace 2 - Short Trip to Acco

Didn't sleep well at the Haryakon 48 hostel in Tel Aviv last night. This was partly cause of the street noise but mainly because I wasn't tired. I had only been up about 8 hours after a fairly restful flight -- before I tried to sleep the whole night through based on local time. Didn't work.

Visited with some hostel-stayers in the pool lounge/lobby area from roughly 3am to about 6am. Laid down until 7. Had some continental breakfast and was in a taxi towards the train station by 8. I'm tempted to say that I enjoyed the morning after that, hanging around the train station...cause I got to read a good bit of my book and cause it represents some personal time that I won't have the next week or two. And those are valuable things...having some time to kill, people-watching in a new city, country, and region, not worrying about what time I need to be somewhere.

But the truth is that my disc bags were heavy - about 75 pounds between the two, plus my personal bag. With the security turnstiles (the rail network here gives a lot more attention to security than amtrak or greyhound), stairs around the train platforms, and other people demanding space, I felt like a wide-load-tourist-imposer.

Still, I got to see quite a bit of the coastal towns/territory between Tel Aviv and Acco. A large part of it is developed, either as farm or other production, or as pretty dense urban stuff, like Haifa
(which looks absolutely stunning set into a hill with lots of Bahai buildings). But there's still plenty of rolling hill and grassland, rock fields and untouched beach. Plus I sat adjacent to a woman and her newborn...bound to take anybody's breath away because of his young age and size. The mother seemed so in control, so confident in what she was doing. She traded between rocking and patting her baby to listening to an ipod, to having a phone conversation (with the softest tone) and reading scripture in hebrew. Her behavior seemed to embody the juxtapositions in Israel of religion and techology, family and country, tourism and history, security and development...its all really striking.

Now I'm in Acco. At the site of camp. I put down my bags in a hurry to get to lunch. Helped unload ice that we'll use all week. Culture and language barriers are potent. All part of the fun.

Lessons from Eat, Pray, Love

A few months ago, I went with my family to see the cinematic version of Eat, Pray, Love. I got into it and a couple weeks after borrowed the book to read at my leisure.

Now that I'm in full leisure mode, taking time to read the book is exactly what I'm doing. And here are some notes I'd like to make from the book, both of which come from the "big texas yogi" the protagonist spends time with while at an ashram in India.

1. send love and light every day to the people you miss and love, particularly those who you loved closely. this is relevant for me cause, even though we've been apart for more than five years, an ex-girlfriend's marriage last year hit me hard. i hope she's sending light my way sometimes - and i hope that i find the strength to do the same for her.


2. "you gotta learn how to let go...otherwise you'll just toss and turn forever, beatin' on yourself for being such a fiasco in life." the other day i lost my cell phone in an idiotic stretch of drunk dancing in the street (on a sunday night).

Glad to hear comments when y'all got 'em. Or just keep sending my thoughts out to ya (and by keep sending i mean send only very periodically and almost never).

"Killing Our Dreams" from Paulo Coelho

The first symptom of the process of our killing our dreams is the lack of time. The busiest people I have known in my life always have time enough to do everything. Those who do nothing are always tired and pay no attention to the little amount of work they are required to do. They complain constantly that the day is too short. The truth is, they are afraid to fight the Good Fight.

The second symptom of the death of our dreams lies in our certainties. Because we don’t want to see life as a grand adventure, we begin to think of ourselves as wise and fair and correct in asking so little of life. We look beyond the walls of our day-to-day existence, and we hear the sound of lances breaking, we smell the dust and the sweat, and we see the great defeats and the fire in the eyes of the warriors. But we never see the delight, the immense delight in the hearts of those who are engaged in the battle. For them, neither victory nor defeat is important; what’s important is only that they are fighting the Good Fight.

And, finally, the third symptom of the passing of our dreams is peace. Life becomes a Sunday afternoon; we ask for nothing grand, and we cease to demand anything more than we are willing to give. In that state, we think of ourselves as being mature; we put aside the fantasies of our youth, and we seek personal and professional achievement. We are surprised when people our age say that they still want this or that out of life. But really, deep in our hearts, we know that what has happened is that we have renounced the battle for our dreams – we have refused to fight the Good Fight.

When we renounce our dreams and find peace, we go through a short period of tranquility. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and to infect our entire being.
We become cruel to those around us, and then we begin to direct this cruelty against ourselves. That’s when illnesses and psychoses arise. What we sought to avoid in combat – disappointment and defeat – come upon us because of our cowardice.

And one day, the dead, spoiled dreams make it difficult to breathe, and we actually seek death. It’s death that frees us from our certainties, from our work, and from that terrible peace of our Sunday afternoons

Words from Petrus to me during The pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela

Reading Murakami's Kafka On the Shore last night, I was struck by some of the images in the book. I'm only a couple chapters into it and it seems like such complex and creative thinking goes on inside his head.

An image unrelated to the content of the book came to mind... the genie in a bottle story. Its such a popular image, that some wanderer/explorer happens upon a special bottle (usually gold and ancient). The genie materialises by rubbing the sides and the discoverer is granted three wishes.

Amid the three wishes are complexities with grandiosity and endangering others, selfishness and altruism. There is always a villain that either wants to steal the bottle, steal a wish, or corrupt the wisher into doing something altogether bad.

What I actually asked myself last night was "is the genie simply a metaphor for the spirit inside us?" And yes, I think most likely it is. In our adolescene (or later) we tend to find our inner strength and creativity, or we come to feel/know a divine spirit... and the worlds' doors are opened to us. But not without some consequence and responsibility (adulthood).

What interpretations do you guys have of this traditional storyline?

Comments Awards

Here are some of my favorite comments from readers of this blog... all written this year. I don't provide much context, intentionally:

I think I'm figuring out who Anonymous is, but please keep posting:

Ben...dear...don't do anything that exhausts you. Forego any process and go for what flows without effort at all. This is the heart of all "mojo". Do what works, when it works and keep doing it. Rude people suck. Rude is a big deal in my book as it is contrary to kindness, and we all know what happens when there isn't enough kindness in the world. So if you think it's cute to be "the bitch" at the club...it just isn't, no matter how hot you are.

Faust, I owe you for much more than encouraging me to write, but this blog-frenzy a couple years ago started with you:

I had to turn off the song before I started crying again and I don't even like U2.

Just like there is nothing like college there is nothing like college ultimate. I remember in the years that followed wanting to be able to go back and do this that and the other thing different. It took a long time to be all right with going 0-6 on Friday of nationals, but I barely think of that now, just the good times with all my brothers.

I didnt know I cried at the needle, I certainly did on that stupid monorail ride.

All of this over a frisbee.

Thanks for the post Ben.

Snausages, my man:

Lift heavy things with good form.

Run fast. Then rest, and run fast again.

Eat real food. If you are eating cake or drinking beer, it should be good cake and good beer (and you SHOULD eat cake and drink beer -- cake and beer are awesome).

Rest your body. Keep looking good.

Kpeasey, this sums it up:

love ya.

JuliaB, keep doin what you doin. I like your blog, too:

Some classics include Goodnight Moon, Where the Wild Things Are, and The Very Hungry Caterpillar. I also loved, loooved Mother Goose nursery tales.

acapella books

Was at a bookstore a few weeks back with two friends (hippos!) and this incident occured that I recorded but never blogged about til now. This is me getting my story (however trivial it may be) out...

The manager/receptionist was pleased to handle christina's request and purchases. She was getting her change. When I reached for a book mark near the register, and asked if the thing was free, the middle-aged slightly desheviled guy shakes his head at me. He rolls his eyes cause I asked if the bookmark was free. And as I turn to walk away convinces me (with his head shaking) that I'm an idiot.

I wanted this story to end there, but it moved me to type it. So there ya have it.

I'm an Uncle - and a call for book suggestions

As ya know, if this isn't your first time reading my blog in the past month... I'm an uncle! And on Monday I went over to my cousin's house (the mom) for our weekly hanging out. 

[Yes, I said cousin. And that I'm an uncle... because my cousin is like a sister, I consider myself the uncle of her and her husband's baby. Plus my cousin is an only child, meaning she has no biological siblings to be aunt and uncle. This is hopefully the last time I explain this. ]

With me on Monday, I brought five books to read to precious little Lily. The first book we read to her was Raggedy-Ann, like the very first encarnation of Raggedy-Ann. In this Raggedy-Ann, the little girl Annie finds the doll for the first time. 

Lily had been fussy for a few minutes until I started reading. But while I read she calmed down, maybe fell asleep.

So, reading to my niece is the new black. Please post here suggestions for children's books. They can be books you remember from childhood or books you have since discovered and would recommend. Its open-ended.

The Hardest Post I Ever Published

In language class at GW, a regular exercise for 'beyond daily conversation' was to discuss the hardest decision we ever made. Well, naturally, everybody said about the same thing: deciding which college to go to was the hardest decision I ever made. 

The truth is, at least in my case but I'm guessing in other's cases, also, which college to go to was probably the easiest decision I ever had to make. Michigan and UGA wait-listed me and I didn't want to go to the other school I got into.

So I lied about the hardest decision I ever made. Just to be normal. 

Now my philosophy is that sometimes the most difficult decisions in our lives are the simplest. Like what to wear. Or what to eat. In honor of all those classes I lied to all those times, here's my honest version of what the most difficult decision ever would sound like, in English: 

"the most difficult decision I have ever made is what I would wear today. I thought for 30 minutes about what this shirt versus that shirt says about myself, the weather, and the [insert extraneous data] I'm going through today. 

And I chose an [mention color and fit, age and purchase price] shirt with [it doesn't matter] pants [or does it?]. But I presently regret the decision to wear this particular combination because the shirt flairs out at the stomach, making my whole body look less desirable than I want; and this is turning off potential sexual partners."

The End

Ahh!

Mid-February events

• Friday the 13th
• Valentine's Day
• President's Day
• birthdays, etc

With the number of things going on in the middle of February, I had a feeling that this past weekend was gonna be amazing... in that kind of 'people are buzzing' sort of way. But instead, fun stuff to do (for a single person) was hard to come by. In short, I felt pretty Ahh! and Blah! this weekend.

After two days of watching TV - broken up only by a couple hours of disc sports each afternoon - I decided to spend Monday cleaning and reading. And what I was reading is sort of echoed in Kate's blog over at kawilson830.blogspot.com. 

Three Cups of Tea, written by the central figure of the book Greg Mortensen and his friend David Oliver Relin, is billed as 'one man's mission to promote peace... one school at a time.' And although I don't think Mortensen began his humanitarian work in Pakistan and Afghanistan with the inspiration of peacemaking, I do think his work has great diplomatic effects. 

And I'm proud that an American like Mortensen, originally a climber and only later a non-profit director, has put his whole life into his Central Asia Institute work. A couple weeks ago, Mortensen came through Atlanta on his speaking tour; just the other day, I believe, my sister saw him speak in New York. So he's getting the word out. And I'm happy to do the same.

The reason why I thought this was echoed in kawilson's blog is cause she talks about a pot of tea. And the American value placed on perpetual busy-ness, as opposed to relationship-building and patience. We grow up admiring people that never stop moving; people who think that doing something slow, or even slower, is as valuable as not doing anything at all. 

At about the midpoint in Three Cups of tea, the mayor of the first town Mortensen helps build a school in takes the American aside. Mortensen was at the time working people too hard and focused too much on finishing construction by a certain date. Since procuring all the materials and breaking ground, he had spent little time at understanding the people and processes involved. The mayor, Haji Ali, says to encourage Mortensen to ease up:

The first time you share tea with a Balti, you are a stranger. The second time you take tea, you are an honored guest. The third time you share a cup of tea, you become family, and for our family, we are prepared to do anything, even die.”

Kate, you are in the sometimes fortunate and other times unfortunate position of having free time where no one is going to force you to either speed up or slow down. Whereas Mortensen had someone to counsel him at the appropriate pace of life, its really your issue to grapple with. I like seeing that you're concsious of the issue and that you're spending time with a wide variety of characters, including yourself and your pot of tea.

Lei Out (2006 I think) with kawilson. Sometimes ultimate is our pot of tea.

Conscious Hip Hop

Was leafing through some progressive blogs earlier today, and this entry at 2xconsciousness.blogspot.com is probably the most provocative while maintaining an artful feel.

As much as I talk about being progressive and against isms (anti-racist, anti-sexist, et al), I don't have a regular habit of reading progressive news, blogs, etc.

So I followed through on an invitation to Tim Wise's discussion and book signing last night. Charis Books, Atlanta's Feminist Bookstore, hosted the white anti-racist activist, thinker and author.

Bought the guy's book, Between Barack and a Hard Place: Racism and White Denial in the Age of Obama and had it signed. That and Agamemnon are the two things I'm working on reading right now.

And here's a picture from the packed bookstore last night

The Alchemist

I just finished reading the Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Its an amazing tale of a Spanish boy who traverses the Sahara in search of treasure, and finds himself along the way.

The author relies heavily on links between humanity, the material world, and God, or the spiritual world. And he tackles the issue of fate (or 'maktoub' in Arabic).

This is a short enough book for just a day of reading pleasure. But its messages, and quotables, last much longer.

Among my favorite lines is "when we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better, too."

Shout out to my boy, Kyle http://kpeasey.blogspot.com/ who's going through some thangs. I'd recommend this book, homie.

Sayin Somethin Significant

I would like to use as a subject from which to preach this morning: "Remaining Awake Through a Great Revolution." The text for the morning is found in the book of Revelation. There are two passages that I would like to quote, in the sixteenth chapter of that book: "Behold, I make all things new; former things are passed away."

On March 31, 1968, Dr Martin Luther King, Jr visited Washington, DC to spoke these words at the famous National Cathedral.

The first thing that strikes me about the above introduction is the similarity between the words revolution and revelation. Using this history of the latin revolvere and this etymology of the latin revelare, we understand that revolution means more re-birth or renewal and revelation denotes more disclosure and revealing. For Dr King, just like today's pronunciation, the two were intertwined.

Dr King is quite up front in "Remaining Awake" about the triple evils of his day:

• poverty
• racism
• militarism

And he talks about the challenges for people of good conscience in facing those threats. Mainly, time is on the side of the oppressor. And a narrow worldview will always limit the possibilities of an international brotherhood of the human race.

Failing to develop new attitudes and mental responses is a symptom of sleeping through a revolution. With poor people from across America, Dr King and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference planned to "call attention to the gulf between promise and fulfillment; to make the invisible [i.e. poverty, the poor] visible."

In addition to making demands of the government, Dr King's campaign was carrying out strategic boycotts of products and companies across the south: for failure to hire Black workers, invest in Black communities, and offer the dignity that humans deserve.

Before ending this eloquent and direct sermon, Dr King reminded us that standing against war was not popular. The media, along with people within the civil rights movement, lobbied Dr King to silence his opposition to the War in Vietnam. But Dr King did not seek the consensus. From his days in the Montgomery bus boycott, Dr King and the people there aimed to move the consensus.

Though his positions were not always expedient, they came from his conscience. Dr King was fatally shot only five days after this 'Remaining Awake' speech, giving his words, spoken in the nation's capitol, even more weight.

In his truly anti-war speech, Dr King noted that "true compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar....it comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring." This, indeed, is a revolution worth remaining awake for.

Old News

Here's a short list of anecdotes leading up to and including the night Barack Obama was elected the next president of the United States.

A year and a half ago:

• I blogged for the first time on this year's presidential campaign
• I found out about possible volunteering for Obama, which I did in LA and ATL
• I tried to read but didn't finish 'Dreams from My Father'

In February of this year:

• Super Tuesday
• Obama didn't lose the day entirely, he actually gained Oba-mentum
• McCain pulled ahead

At 11:00, this happened:

• I embraced my parents as Pennsylvania and Ohio were subsequently announced in Obama's favor and the Election was called...
• I saw a coworker running and screaming out the door of the watch party building...
• I bought another drink and witnessed a pep rally/parade/party on Peachtree St...

Where I'm At - and a Call for Book Suggestions

You know that terrible ad campaign that some cell phone company is running with the constant 'Where you at?' line? Well its annoying. Cause its a quick (twist on the) common phrase that I want to use without advertising some cell phone company.

Anyway, I'm at work. And for those of you thinking, I can't believe you blog from work... let it be.

In addition to being at work, I'm at a point where I'm looking for more cultural exposure... music, books, exhibits, activism, people, and so on. As ya know, I've blogged before on my favorite authors, books, music, and so on.

And now I'm back on the block. I joined Shelfari a while ago but that got old quick. Facebook is good for quick links to knowledge and meaningful stuff, like this commencement speech. Google reader is hot. But the press and internets can only occupy me for so long.

So I'm callin you to make some book suggestions... fiction and non-fiction, short and long, new or classic, and other categories with binary options. Bring 'em out! (below is an image of culture)

Mountains Beyond Mountains

Have you ever wondered how you could be both compassionate to the poor and heard by the elite? Important in academic circles and rural Haitian huts?

Have I found the book for you?!

Tracy Kidder's Mountains Beyond Mountains. The book isn't quite biography, isn't quite history of tuberculosis, isn't quite international public health and social justice advocacy. It takes a portrait of Paul Farmer's quest for sufficient, nay equitable, access to health and other life-giving services. And its a good one.

Paul Farmer, the infectious disease-fighter, has a Harvard Medical School professorship and Brigham doctor position, international awards and lecture schedule, Soros Foundation and WHO consultant assignments, and Partners In Health responsibilities (co-founder).

He consistently decreases the space between himself and the poor... during his 10-mile visits to rural Peruvian patients' bed-sides, in his lobbying international donors for generous health funds (see above photo, with description here), and in his denial of excessive earnings from his work.

Tracy Kidder, the author, doesn't glorify Farmer in the way this blog post quickly did. Kidder puts some perspective on TB, the Haitian (and Russian) health situation, Farmer's personal life, and more. But it is hard to deny that Farmer has accomplished so much. This book is definitely worth a read. Borrow it in LA.

Pedagogy of the Oppressed

This is a good one to read, even if only certain sections and one paragraph at a time.

My book club discussed The Pedagogy of the Oppressed this past Sunday. The book takes to account the traditional relationship of teacher to student and how teachers see education as 'banking' a body of knowledge with the recipient of information. More importantly, Paolo Friere discusses how this and other dynamics of traditional teaching perpetuate oppression... how paternalistic values from the Western, male-dominated, White-dominated, rich-dominated worlds inform our current pedagogy.

Even when teachers from oppressed communities teach each other - even when oppressed communities turn the tables on the oppressors - we relate to each other in an oppressive way. Until teaching is empowering not just because of the knowledge banked but because of the critical thinking skills acquired, no matter who's ruling or teaching, we are doomed to repeat maintain oppressor-oppressed relationships.

To get out of this relationship, the world has to think of education as cogent processing, problem-solving, and recognizing every human's ability to think for themselves and reject supremacy (of teachers, of Whites, etc). Or so the book claims.

Public Transit -- Charlotte and More

Charlotte introduced herself to me yesterday. We had something in common: we had both given gifts of food that night (large portions in American society - see last November's posts about abundance) and we are both white.

Charlotte turned down my offer of a bus pass and says she'll be able to get to her van in Santa Monica just fine. But we're in downtown LA at the time so her night has only just begun. She does offer her hand in greeting; later, I return the favor by waking her up when the train approaches her stop. Doesn't sound like a very nice favor, does it?

Also on the train was a dude lugging a serious stack of books and boxes on a rolly-cart. One of his biceps (while he was holding on to the rail inside the train) would flex with every jolt of the train. That's something I had never really paid attention to on another person. And it made him appear very human to me. But one of the books in this guy's stack was titled 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre.' I felt the need to talk to him before he did something stupid, but my fear and apprehension forbade me. So he got off and went on with his evening. Will he always be human to me?

Note: Public Transit is a favorite topic of mine. Not necessarily because I love it, per se. More so because the experience can be so mundane one day and so poetic the next, miserable one day, enjoyable the next.