If you light a light for somebody it will also brighten your path – Buddha

It has been a while since I have posted. October 2015 to be exact. However, there certainly has not been a lack of excitement or intrigue from our side. In December Ian and I made the long trip home to Michigan….and Minnesota and Tennessee. Our carbon footprint was not small, to say the least.  Of course it was good to see family, some we have not hugged in person for almost two years. Far too long for those who we call Loved.

Ian and I both remain ever so busy with school. Ian completed his most difficult semester yet, one that was shrouded in statistics and the hieroglyphic type symbols that mathematicians call logic. He also ran IQ tests and personality profiles on several friends and myself; thankfully he remains neutral in all judgments and has promised to remain married despite the results.  The little smarty also continues to receive book after book in the mail….I wonder if there is a DSM diagnosis for closet book reader or hoarder of knowledge. It is actually quite beautiful to watch him smell the books as they come in, opening them with fascination and respect He is a book whisperer, I swear.

I have been trotting along in my program as well. It seems somewhat unfair that Ian has had so much work and mine feels like a natural extension of what I would already be reading and of myself; It has proven to be my hearts desire and calling. 

I recently returned from Guatemala serving on another medical mission with the organization Salud Y Paz (health and peace).  We traveled to villages high in the Guatemalan mountains where access to health care is extremely limited. As a matter of fact, our highest clinic was at 8,000 ft. so it felt very much like Nepal. Perhaps this is why I also felt an immediate connection to the traditional culture and geography.  With only three providers, a pediatrician, an ER doctor, and myself, we saw over 750 patients. As you can imagine it was extremely busy, but profoundly rewarding.

Prior to departing I stumbled across an organization called Lucky Iron Fish (luckyironfish.com) which makes a cast iron fish that helps fight anemia. By simply cooking with their fish a family can receive all their daily requirements of iron each day. And better yet, the fish can be used over and over again for up to 5 years. Knowing that anemia is a major cause of illness and health disparity in low resource settings I set out to get as many fish as I could. Thanks to generous donations from my Clinic I was able to take 25 fish with me to Guatemala.

 

This is the first time I have ever done something like this so I really had no idea how well this concept would be accepted or adopted within a new culture. Well.....I can now say that in Guatemala, it was extremely accepted and appreciated. The thought of providing their families with ongoing "vitamins" was very exciting to the Guatemalan mothers who received the fish.  I loved watching my Spanish and Quiche (Mayan language) interpreters explain what the fish was for and how it was used. Smile after smile (but not often caught on camera) the mothers thanked me for the gifts of health. Silently I thanked the donors and the Creator for allowing me to be in a position to provide. Who am I after all?

Another popular gift I brought was my now famous (or at least famous with the group I travel with) purses and seemingly endless supply of donated MatchBox cars.  A nurse from my office gave me about 50 cars that her son no longer needed and another staff member bought several to donate as well. In addition, our phlebotomist and her mother made several little purses to give to the children. I whipped out about 50 myself prior to leaving; some purses and Iron Fish bags were even made of Ian's up-cycled jeans; the Guatemalan's got a kick out of this. 

Regardless, the outpouring of love from those in my life is always tremendously touching. I get to physically experience the excitement and smiles when I give a little boy a car or a little girl a purse, however, they only get to hear. Still, words cannot express how thankful I am for their generosity and selfless donations. It is a rare exception that you find such genuine goodness and love expressed so automatically and without question as found in them. In a world of turmoil, goodness not only still exists, but it is still very much alive. 

What really struck me about the Guatemalan / Mayan people was that they seemed to have no concept of poverty.   As a Western outsider avoidance of this discomfort was been taught from a very young age. As a matter of fact, we all make great strides to acquire more, store more, and secure our future through complicated bonds and retirements.   However, when we want to understand something, we cannot just stand outside and observe it, we have to enter deeply into it and be one with it in its entirety. To understand a person living in poverty we have to feel their feelings, suffer their sufferings, and enjoy their joys. We have to allow them to penetrate our entire being. So thats what I did. 

When a little girl excitedly asked if the stuffed animal was for her to keep (Is it for me?! Is it for me?!), when a little boy races his MatchBox car with his brother, both laughing and giggling in pure happiness, when an older women cries at the early loss of her son and her husband due to the irrevocable diseases of poverty, or when I see the tired eyes of a man who works in the fields all day long for $3 per day, I tried to experience them and all of their feelings, sufferings, and joys. Truly in our life, being in the skin of another is perhaps the greatest form of understanding. 

And in this meditative form of awareness I remembered that "want" and "desire" create the duality of suffering. So for a person who has neither, their experience of life is different and even more, their poverty may not exist at all. When I looked at the tattered clothing of all the children we saw, the pants we call floods, the shoes we call useless, the hands we call dirty, I only saw peace. They may lack power and choice, but they do not lack intellect and joy. 

It was watching the children play that I realized they truly have no idea that they are living in poverty. As a result, they are free to Be and free to elude the sufferings of want and desire that plague so many of us in the developed world. Priceless. 

So, my aim is to longer to view them as marginalized or less than due to their outer presentations, to no longer see the negative and make a judgment or calculation based on exteriors but to change my hardwiring to experience the person in understanding and enter into the deeper realization of what it means to be human. For that is where the Kingdom of riches is found.

At this very moment what do you need to be full of joy? How uncomfortable can you be with the tattered materialism that hold little value in life? How radical can you be in another's skin? How radical can you live in your own? For you I pray that this year be one of spiritual growth, renewal, awareness, and most of all understanding. 

It has been a long time since I have posted on the blog.  

In the beginning of September my clinic sponsored another team to run the 110 mile Klondike relay race from Alaska to Canada.  This year Ian diverted injury and ran the first leg of the race, I also had a friend from Ohio, Bonnie, fly to Alaska to join us. It is always a great event that challenges my athletic prowess and agility. It was also great having an entire weekend with Ian. It seems that between work and school our time together is mostly in between bathroom breaks from studying. 

Also over the last few months our family has seen new life, sickness, medical error, and been confronted with the reality of choice. To say the least, the last few months have not only been interesting, but ones of great growth. In times when I needed it most, I saw bold and vulnerable actions from others that spoke directly to the heart of mercy and forgiveness. In others I was reminded that we have two options in life: to live as one who recognizes the humanity in others, forgive, and love, or stay in fear. Though we all will face a physical death, living in fear certainly hastens a spiritual one. I have also been confronted with the fact that love begins with ourselves and in our home and cities, and only then can it begin to change the world. 

Just last week I attended a global health conference in San Francisco. I was looking forward to attending this particular conference with people "on the field" and active in global health issues. What I did not expect was the surprise visit from the man who inspired me to begin my own global health journey, Dr. Paul Farmer. For those of you who are not familiar with Dr. Farmer, he is literally the Ghandi of global health. He started his NGO, Partners in Health, several years ago and has changed the face and outlook of treating HIV/AIDs and TB across the world. There was a book written about his life by Tracy Kidder, Mountains Beyond Mountains, that I read years ago and was a launching point in my life for global service. I am a total groupie. 

Dr. Paul Farmer and I

What strikes me most about him are not just his international accolades, awards, or achievements, but that he has retained a heart of charity, compassion, and optimism all this time.  On the last day of our conference he showed up for a Q&A session with questions from our group. Though he is very well-spoken and knowledgeable regarding global health policy and development, it was his concluding motions that spoke to me most, he teared up.  

A friend of mine jokes that I suffer from global anxiety.  It is not uncommon for me to go for a run and break out in tears if I begin thinking on the injustices of this world. I am especially prone to this when a string of African songs accosts my iPod, or when I run after reading the world news. 

The other day this happened as I went for a morning jog and I asked God why? Am I crazy? Do I need my husband to run a battery of psychological tests on me to diagnose my psychosis or is there a Divine reason that this happens? I guess my experiences, like Dr. Farmer, cause me to see things differently now. I have trouble forgetting, nor do I even want to. And like Dr. Farmer, sometimes I cannot help but cry. 

Sometimes I see fire, fire that is constantly consuming humanity if the form of health inequality, political bondage, discrimination, and resource scarcity for some and over consumption for others.  My skin is hot from the smoke, always one step away from the flames. I am not angry or hateful, just sad. As I was flying back from San Francisco looking out the plane window far above the Earth, I thought what a beautiful world we live in, at least from the perspective in the clouds. Why does it have to be so ugly underneath them? From the heavens looking down I see its original purpose - to love and nurture, but upon landing I am assaulted with how badly we contort its purpose for personal means. 

Is it too late to become an activist joining alongside the Heavens? Well, though I should have started in pre-school, it truly never is. We are all health workers and activists. Each word we speak is an endorsement of our relationship to others and ourselves, each purchase an endorsement for a cause, and each action taken against our earth an endorsement of its importance. I am so small yet these feelings feel so large, sometimes I feel like I am going to burst out and particularize away.   For now I accept the purpose and though I cannot fight the system anymore, I recognize that it is the very system of which I am fighting for; the system that promotes wholeness and love. I also recognize that my global health journey begins at home, in my community, and then across the world. All of ours does. 

So, do something good today, a random act of kindness, be outside of yourself for a moment and listen to what others are saying and the needs that they are truly expressing between the sentences that they speak. Be an activist for something you believe in, but most of all, be a radical activist for love. If you can't do this how can anything we do truly be worthwhile? 

A few weeks ago we had Ian's mom, Dianne, visit us. There is a vulnerable transparency that is absolutely refreshing in having her around. I find this same characteristic of love in Ian, perhaps one of the things that drew me to him. Like mother like son, a true similarity exists between this pair. 

As I write this blog I chuckle at both Ian and Dianne filling their suitcases with books. Forgo the plastic trinkets of places visited, and pack up the possibilities that a mind wrapped up in a good book can bring. Voracious readers, inquisitive minds, and overflowing souls make them people you seek as life companions and friends. 

One of life's greatest gifts is in the natural authenticity of meaningful conversation; the conversations where through not much is spoken, you experience the words that are. 

I think it takes a truly authentic heart to be exposed enough to allow this type of pure communication to exist with another. Often with those of whom we are not entirely comfortable exposing such inner thoughts, we use conversation fillers, such as the weather. During Dianne's time here I truly don't think we ever talked about the climate, unless it was about its change and man's ethical responsibility towards slowing the process. 

Last night I had dinner with two very dear friends of which the above is also true. I often leave their presence feeling that words were not wasted on trivial fillers to offend silence. 

Perhaps this reflection comes at missing my husband (though I generally really do feel this way). Ian had to make an unexpected trip back home and has been gone the last week. The house, though cleaner, feels pretty empty. I actually miss the little morning tasks like scrapping the egg pan (during the 5% of the time when he is not vegan), rinsing out the tea press, cleaning the bathroom of little hair shavings or wiping the constantly dripping toothpaste off the counter (it just needs a lid!). Funny how in the rushed moments before going to work I often let out a little sigh before quickly doing the above tasks, and now through their absence, it causes me to reflect. 

The other day I did something a little weird. I guess I can be a little awkward anyway so perhaps for me this was characteristic. Regardless, I just sat in silence for 30 or so minutes and took in our condo. I didn't judge the wall for not being perfect or question the color of the couch we bought. I didn't allow my perception to be altered on what would fill the vacant corner or how the spider was making a home in the one above. I just sat and very slowly allowed my eyes to drift from corner to edge and take it in. And, after my eyes had their fill, I closed them and allowed my ears to experience their turn. I listened for the walls, the wood beams supporting them, the spider spinning his web, the air coming through the open window. When I was done I opened my eyes, and realized that I had just experienced leisure for leisure's sake. 

Then I got to thinking, can human existence be fulfilled in being exclusively a "workday" existence, 9-5? Do I define my days based on how physically productive I have been in regards to work or tangible achievements? I often wonder if the busyness of life is more of a reflection that we do not agree with our own existence; that behind all of our energetic activity, we are not at one with ourselves. And, like our conversations, we use "fillers" disguised as activity to define us. 

Leisure, then, is a condition of the soul and not merely a trip to Hawaii or some exotic beach. Not a weekend get-a-way or the antithesis of being at work. Most of us can honestly say that sometimes even our "vacations" can be more stressful than our actual work. It is a condition of being, a form of stillness that is necessary preparation for accepting reality. As I experienced in my condo, only the person who is still can hear. Such stillness is an manifestation of the soul's power, and leisure therefore becomes the disposition of perceptive understanding, of contemplative beholding, and immersion of true existence. In this place of non-activity, leisure becomes an invitation to commune with the immutable mystery of Being; to open ourselves as not the seize-er, but of the seized. 

In a way, leisure, stillness, and silence are some of the greatest teachers of life. And just like love, they give us the power to reflect and step beyond the working world into a time of holiness. They allow us to win contact with those superhuman, life-giving forces that can send us, renewed and alive again, into the busyness of life. 

Peace, love, and joy 

-Sarah

The time between posts are becoming long and longer. Since Ian and I are knee deep in school right now, finding time to post has been difficult. Sometimes I think we are barely keeping our heads above water, other times it feels like we just gave birth to twins. Thankfully we are both thrilled (total understate for myself) about our new journeys. Ian is thriving in the cerebral / contemplative realm that his program is providing, and I cannot wait to come home and study global health issues and reform. Most importantly, though, we are enjoying the journey, and like most new parents, each day brings opportunity for new discoveries both in ourselves and as a couple on our mini odyssey together. 

It has also been a summer of visitors. Earlier we had my brother, Blake, and his wife, Gretchen visit. Then, Ian's college friend, Shawn, came with his family from Taipei, followed by a visit from Ian's mom. As always it is great to show people Juneau and attempt to convert them into vegans. So far our record is not too shabby either. Blake and Gretchen may move out here in the spring, and I am pretty sure Dianne is going to be experimenting with new vegan cooking over the next several months. 

It was also really good seeing family. We haven't seen Blake and Gretchen in over a year! Thankfully they were troopers and let us drag them on as many rainy trails as we could find. They even let us hike them up to John Muir Cabin for an overnight camping extravaganza. Compliment of course with red wine and twizzlers! 

I really wanted to get them out in nature as much as we could. Coming from the same gene pool, I was hopeful that the clean salty Juneau air would be as healing for Blake as it has been for me. The more I let nature enter in, the more I learn from its teachings.  

If you shout at the oak tree it does not become angry, it you plant a beautiful flower garden nearby it does not become jealous. Its being is not in relation to any opinion, fear, thought, or outcome. It stands firm, deeply rooted, and practices being present all of its life. An oak tree just is, it expresses itself in just being. 

This is something I have been thinking about a lot lately. I have a tendency to run at life like it is a race; always focused on time, how competitive I am with fellow runners, or what place I will take at the finish.  Seeing your name among the top or being in the hall of fame, is consider by many a triumph. I do as well, in some regard. 

However, in the impermanent life where medals, trophies, and degrees can so quickly be destroyed, a legacy too firmly attached to such materials can be easily forgotten as well.  If however, my life has been one of love, after the dust settles, I will still have this to carry around my neck. More importantly, I can hang it in the hall of fame of another. 

In everyone, regardless of their physical accomplishments or wealth, there is the capacity to wake up, to understand, and to love. Understanding and loving are not two things but actually one. To awaken means to understand; once you understand, you cannot help but love. 

In my current class, global health ethics, we are talking about some very heavy topics. Civil conflicts, genocide, child soldiers, sex slave trade, health care disparities, stem cell research, etc.  My mind is constantly in a state of question and flux. One common thread in all these atrocities is the tendency of violence to supersede attempts at peace. Even "peace talks" are filled with emotional violence, anger and hostility. And, even though agreements are made, peace accords are often broken. 

A beautiful quote from the mission statement of the United Nations Education, Science, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), states that, "Since wars begin in the minds of men, it is in the minds of men that defenses of peace must also be constructed" (UNESCO.org). I think this quote hits to the heart of so many problems, they begin in our mind. 

This weekend I watched a wonderful movie called Beyond Belief. This documentary is about two women whose husbands were killed in 911. Instead of retaliation or harboring hate in their hearts and minds, they decided to raise money for the widows of Afghanistan instead. Eventually they raised thousands of dollars and purchased chickens for the widows who could then sell the eggs for money. 

A few years later they travelled to Afghanistan to meet the women.  Once there they were overwhelmed not just by the poor conditions of the country, but how freely these women loved amidst all the atrocities they have seen, as well.  It was very powerful to see the recognition of our similarities unfold and cause an awakening of understanding, and ultimately love, in the American widows. 

Their love, I know, is hanging in the hall of fame of the Afghan women's hearts. Their legacy, through extending a hand in friendship, has also helped create an indestructible bridge of healing that no drone can destroy.  

I am guilty of not listening to nature's teachings, of being angry, jealous, and greedy. I am also guilty of clinging to my worldly "medals" and not freely letting them go. I am, however, aware that I need to awaken to these issues and allow transmutation of my gold medal into love occur. It is only through letting the hostilities pass through me, and not allowing them to attach to my soul that I can begin to progress forward toward real spiritual transformation. 

And only when, like an oak tree, standing firm, deeply rooted, and practicing being present all of my life, will I be able to provide shade and shelter to those who need it. I wonder if this is why nature is so beautiful; it is free of judgement, anger and hate, and free to love no matter what. Always. 

Sarah