Being

Henna on my hands done by may students. Here they call it Mylangie

I would like to say in this blog that if you have ever felt accomplished because you just mopped your own floor, it’s okay. You are not weird. You are also not alone. Saturday morning I woke up on a mission to get my floor mopped. I had most likely neglected this necessary duty for a little too long. So first, I went out and purchased a mop. I travelled to the nearby town of Chingavanam by bus and quickly found a few stores that covered my necessities. In one of the stores the clerk helped me diligently. I have noticed that here this basically means you are followed around the store and given advice on your purchase. For example, I handed him a soap caddy I wanted to purchase. He shook his head and went back through the pile picking me one that didn’t have the label peeling off on the corner, a detail that I completely failed to notice. He also directed me to the side of the store and suddenly said “student.” Right there in the store was one of the adorable faces I have come to recognize at Buchanan. I said hello to her and her mother and the girls lit up with a smile. I used what Malayalam I have (which is still not much) and then they were on their way. That one interaction really brightened my day and made me feel at home. I am from a small town, and those kinds of interactions can often only come in a small town atmosphere. It provided me great comfort as I trekked back out onto the streets with a mop in tow. I generally stick out more than the average Keralite given my light brown hair and fair complexion, but walking around the town with a mop in my hand made me a sight to behold. I decided that instead of looking ridiculous on the bus, I would take an auto rickshaw home. The mopping process began shortly after my arrival at Buchanan. First water, then a Lysol-like solution mixed with water, then a layer of rinsing water and a towel over the floor to make it SHINE. I sat out in the study area and worked a little bit on my Malayalam while the floor dried. I felt so proud once they were done that I celebrated with a nap! I also began looking over the “Volunteers Exploring Vocation Discernment Journal” we were handed at Orientation. It is basically a guide to thoughtfully, prayerfully, and willfully consider a question you have about your vocation. My question is centered on graduate studies and when/ where/ how I want to pursue that degree. I hope that this will be a productive way to meditate on the path that is best for me. SO I found joy the little things and also enjoyed thinking about the big scary things. I accomplished one thing by doing and it felt really good. But sure enough, the place in which I felt the most purpose was in Being. Being at that store to see that little girl’s smile. Being in my room to continue the lifelong process of discernment. Being is not just a word that YAV likes a lot. Christian Theologians love it too. Buechner is currently talking about it in his book that I happen to be reading.

“Life is our little portion of Being itself. But that is only to define one mystery in terms of another. You and I and the most distant star and the dragonfly’s wing and the rustle of the leaves as they fall—these all have one thing in common, which is that they all are, we all are, part of Being.” – from The Magnificent Defeat by Frederick Buechner

I have indeed been drinking the YAV Kool- Aid, but let me tell you a secret. It is really quite delicious.