Monday, June 30, 2014

people and places


Angel is one of my best friends. He happens to be engaged to another one of my best friends, Joy.

They're in love and it's beautiful. They light up when the other one walks into the room. They put each other first. They can't keep their hands off of each other. If you ever need a reason to hope, spend some time with the two of them.


Apparently though, Angel used to be quite the ass. I didn't know this version of Angel. I've only ever known the version of Angel that buys extra slices of pizza and then walks the neighborhood to see who looks hungry.


We were all talking about this a few weeks ago, about both versions of Angel. We all sat around Joy's living room, the friends that Angel has had since middle school, Joy, and me, and debated how such a dramatic shift could happen in one person.

The conversation quickly turned from the two versions of Angel into a debate about the types of events in our lives that change us.

See, Angel went to Morocco two summers ago. One of our friends thought that going to Morocco changed him more than if he went to visit family in the Dominican Republic. Our other friend thought that poverty is poverty is poverty and exposing yourself to the world will change you, regardless of where you go.

The debate lasted about three hours. Nobody won.

That conversation has resounded between my ears ever since.

I've spent the past few weeks looking at my own life and wondering which places, which circumstances, which conversations, which relationships, and which moments have had the greatest impact on my life.

What broadened my horizons the most? What awakened my soul to beauty? What kindled the wonder within me? What taught me to turn my head towards grace and mercy? What made my hands need to create?

Obviously, it's a combination of all of the good, the true, the beautiful, the success, the failure, and the ugly in my life experiences. It's holistic. Obviously.

But even so, I can look back at definitive moments that shaped me. I can look back and see my life hinge on one moment and forever alter the course of what was and what would be.

And even still, I can look back and see that I have consistently been changed over time without an event in which to give credit or blame.

I ponder all of these things on the eve of the eve of my journey to Kenya for the summer. I sit in the still of the night in the comfort of my sister's home knowing that I will soon be thousands of miles away in a world I've only ever imagined. I think of how having my family has given me the foundation to leave. I think of how this new experience will alter my view of the world from here on out.

I wonder without answers.

I don't know.

I don't know if Morocco would have changed Angel more than The Dominican Republic. I don't know.
I don't know if Kenya will change me more than Latin America, more than the Middle East. I don't know.

I do know, however, that I have been changed. I know that I will be changed. I know that that comes with a responsibility to see my community, my neighbors, my school, with eyes that are awakened to love. I know that all of my experiences are in vain if I don't live in a way that extends dignity to the man that sleeps outside of the deli by my house. I know that if I forget all that I experience so that it never touches my daily life, then I don't deserve to go in the first place.