Hazel Green

My eyes used to be brown before I started to work in a Mexican neighborhood. I no longer know anyone, except for the white people I live with, who will agree with me that my eyes are brown. They laugh at me when I say it. They say that they are hazel, or green. But brown? No, that's just silly. And in fact, I have a group of ladies that are actively trying to convince me that my eyes are not brown. Every time they see me in another person's presence, they ask that other person what color my eyes are.

So there you go.

Also, there is a peace protest tomorrow morning downtown that Michael and I are going to. There are also about a million others all over the world, but we won't be going to those. Most of them are just too far away.

Day II

Yesterday I woke up feeling slow and relaxed. Everything was nice, and the day was pretty and warm (for Chicago March). And things went really well at work. In the afternoon, I got hungry again, and just couldn't stop being hungry. But, focusing on my work, and setting up for the retreat last night, it really wasn't so bad.

By the time the retreat came, it really wasn't so good. I didn't feel that hot, I was really hungry, and antsy, and rather puny-feeling as well. But I was working with teenagers, and not even teenagers I know or have worked with before. But this was service. This was my passion. This was my goal, and my heart, and I did it well. My group really enjoyed the retreat, and we had a lot of fun, even though I didn't feel good. They never even knew it.

During church afterwards, I prayed with my eyes closed, relaxing and just *feeling* how I felt. I didn't try to ignore it, or shove it away, or overcome it. I just experienced it. And it wasn't nice at all. But that was okay. It's okay if it hurts sometimes. It's okay to be uncomfortable. I need to remember that sometimes, because I get caught up in wanting to make things relaxed and easy, wanting to make life 'not difficult'. But it's not right for everything to be easy. There is no purpose to a problem-free life.

On the bus home, I went to sit in the back like always. There was this huge man eating Kentucky Fried Chicken. I smiled at him and told him it smelled good, and he smiled back, wiping his mouth, and said in a friendly manner, "How are you doing? Yeah, it is good." And I sat down, and leaned back and closed my eyes and smelled his food. I didn't even want to eat it. I didn't feel hungry anymore, just puny. But damn, did it smell good. And it was strange, and nice in a way, to just sit there, enjoying the smell of it, but not wanting to eat it. We wished each other a good night when I got off the bus, because once you say hello, you have to say goodbye.

At home, I made Peppermint Tea and curled up on the couch with Michael, who immediately set about making me laugh, and making me feel better. And after awhile I did, so I debated then whether to break my fast, or see how long I could go. I figured that it was a good time to decide, when I felt fine. Because that way, I wasn't breaking because I couldn't take it. I had taken it. And I had still done my job, and had still served others, and had still made a stranger smile on the bus. 48 hours without solid food and I had felt good and I had felt bad and I had never lost my temper. I had not messed up or failed something because of it. All the things I had been afraid of happening had not happened. And granted, it was only two days, but now I know that if something happens so that I cannot consume the food I am used to consuming, I can still do what needs to be done, for a while at any rate.

And I decided that I just didn't want to feel like that again unless I had to. So I'll wait until I have to. And then I went and made some mashed potatoes, and Michael wandered around, randomly shoving other foods at me.

Today the world is beautiful, even though it's March already but it's snowing again. Work is still going well. I'm getting everything set up for the play, and have been asked to get a group together to do a station for the Via Cruces on Good Friday morning. I feel really good. And it's good to know that food is not a jailor to me. I don't have to be afraid of my hypoglycemia anymore. I can 'not eat' and still accomplish all the things I need to get done, and that is a weight lifted off of me.

It's nice.

Day I

It's about 4:30, and I haven't eaten since dinner last night. I don't feel hungry so much as I want to eat something, although the hunger has hit me in waves from time to time. It's been a pretty busy day. I had a Coalition for Adolescent Risk Reduction meeting downtown, then stopped for lunch with Michael at 8th Day. His turkey sandwich looked divine, but really, at that point, I had only skipped breakfast. I drank my lemonade and that filled me up, but I just wanted to eat.

My blood sugar has been fine, and I'm glad for that. I"m tired, but I didn't sleep well last night. I have moments when I feel as though I'm watching my life through a lens, but so far, no real problems. When I think about food, I don't think about anything else, but when I think about work, I can get by without thinking about food.

Tonight I have Theatre rehearsal, and that is always fun so I'm looking forward to it. Tomorrow night is a youth workshop before the 6:30 mass, and I've become a part of it, regardless of the fact I'm not quite sure who it's for or why it is. But I"m looking forward to that too. And plus, I get to figure out how to draw a gigantic loaf of bread, and that's always fun.

And my mood is really good. I feel positive about just about everything.

But dude, what I wouldn't give for a taco de carne asada... not that I could eat it anyway because it's Lent and I gave up eating things that had faces for Lent. But seriously. Taco de carne asada.

Beware the Ides

Tomorrow is the Ides of March. And I have decided that, starting tomorrow, I'm going on an extended fast. Been working this out for awhile, actually. Ever since I mentioned here that I was afraid to do one, I've been caught up with the importance of facing that fear. We'll see how it goes. I'll try to update regularly with my progress--be it good, or even if I fail completely and cave in before lunch on the first day.

I suspect that the Ides are going to be a bitch.

Retreat

So we're back from our retreat, and I'm back to work now. Today's going to be crazy-busy with HOPE Program and meetings and such, but that's all right by me.

Here are my favorite lines I heard from people over the weekend:

"I have to go to the little nun's room."
--Sr. Marilyn

"If it weren't for women, I don't even think we'd have society. We'd probably still be running around clubbing things."
--Michael Corlew

"You have the monopoly on being right."
--Emi Elepano

"It doesn't matter if they don't even listen. You have an obligation to speak."
--G'Kar

And, okay, G'Kar isn't actually a real person. He isn't even actually a fake person. He's a fake alien on the Babylon 5 television series. But it's a good line nonetheless, I think.

On to other topics, I discovered this weekend that I just don't feel the 'Praise God' variety of prayer. During my short stint on this Earth, I've prayed in a lot of different ways and I've experienced a lot of different things, and currently, I tend toward a more practical brand of spirituality. For instance, Jesus said to feed the poor. The answer is not, "Praise Jesus," the answer is to go and feed the poor. Words without action don't mean so much to me right now. It was a good weekend for self-discovery, I think, but not exactly in the way intended. We had service volunteers from three groups at the retreat house, all of us doing social justice work for the poor and marginalized. And keeping in mind the group that we had there, sitting around singing worship songs just left me wanting.

Don't get me wrong--I'm not against prayer itself or anything, I just want something deeper. I want to question and discern and apply spirituality to the everyday injustices that we are faced with. One of my boys has two gangs after him right now. So yes, it's nice to say that God is Great, but you have to admit that the world is full of people who are messing things up, and we've kind of got to do something about that. And if there is nothing I can do about a particular situation, I need more in my prayer than simple words that say nice things, but explain nothing. They worked for me when I was younger, but I've seen an awful lot more of life since then, and it just doesn't work for me anymore.

So yes, it was a good weekend for discovering things about myself. I also talked a lot with Emi, who was just in Jamaica and who had a conflict with one of his superiors quite similar to the one I've been having with one of mine. And he offered me a great new insight into conflict resolution. And also, we went to the Body Exhibit at the Museum of Science and Industry, and I learned a lot about the way my body works, and I really can't wait to go back when Elizabeth and Winn come to visit because it's an awful lot to absorb. And also, one of my girls loaned me All Quiet On The Western Front, and I am disgusted once again with the unjust system of war, where the people making the decisions are not the ones carrying them out and suffering for them. There is more I need to understand, about a lot of things I guess. I'm 25, so hopefully I've got a good 50 more years or so to figure out some things.