two months

in two months, i will be across the seas.

i wonder how different life will look. what do you think?
from this:























and this:






























to this





















and this.

my foot is asleep

are we in this, or are we just here?

let's stop: breathe, refocus, remember why we are here.
let's love one another.
let's love others.

there is so much fruit in the summer time. it's great, i love it. gimme some of them nectarines!
sometimes, though, i don't feel as though i am actually in summer. maybe i'm stuck in winter?

i'm missing out on the fruits -- patience, kindness, generosity, love, forgiveness.
i need these in my life.

soon, we will embark on a journey to tijuana- who would think that an arbitrary line on the ground could separate what seems to be two different worlds?
but we are not much different from one another -- that is important to remember

in addition: i welcome the return of close friends, of those whom i love, and am blessed to share life with.

in closing: i wish that my current experiences would stop reminding me of things past; i don't like wishing for something other than what i currently have at hand.

let's be in this, not just here.

Why do we go to the margins?

disclaimer: this blog sat on my laptop screen for a few weeks before i hit the publish button. there will be more to follow.

We live on the margins in order to better see the whole.

But can we ever actually intentionally live on the margins?

This question of solidarity has sort of been in the back of my mind. and in our conversations in the past few days.

roughly: are we just pretending to be poor? in the words of a beautiful soul, if that's what we are doing, isn't that just a slap in the face to those who are poor?
in another form: isn't the fact that we choose to live this way another example of our entitlement?

i continue to have questions that have no answers. or at least answers that i don't know yet.

why am i doing urban term?
i'm not totally sure right now.

here's a story.
we went to the city of angels. we walked around. we saw skid row. we saw the financial district. we saw rodeo drive.
i found it really, really easy to judge. to be cynical, self-righteous.
in a matter of blocks walked we went from grimy, unkempt buildings to pristine fountains and freshly cleaned streets.

i came to this realization:
whether we hate money, or love it, we are still obsessed with it. we are still bowing down to mammon. two sides of the same coin.
we have still left our perception of God and money horribly distorted.