The elderly man at the Quaker service who always makes it a point to greet me, the one who mistakes my name for Bertha, spoke these words during worship today:



It takes patience to lower a bucket in order to draw water from the deep well.



His words have not stopped reverberating in my mind since.

On rare occasions when I meet someone, I get a strong feeling inside of me that says, "I really want to be her/his friend."

Today it happened with a girl I met while helping to host Maria's baby shower. By met I should say re-met, because apparently Josie (pseudonym) and I went to middle school at El Roble together. Josie said she recognized me, but I found it quite odd that I could not remember her because: 1) El Roble is not a large school; and 2) Josie's hearing impairment makes her stand out. Regardless, it was a treat to be reacquainted with her and her two-year-old son, who is the most adorable little boy I have seen since my Rita Gold days.

Through question and answer via horribly attempting finger signing on my part and eventually writing back and forth on paper, I learned that Josie graduated from a high school-college for deaf students in Washington, D.C., and thereafter moved back to California to work. After some mistakes and difficult times, she is now self-supporting and single-handedly raising her son in San Diego. Josie also asked some questions about me, such as, "Where is your child?" (I don't have one.) and "Do you have a boyfriend?" (No.)

She reassured me to relax and take my time. What's the big hurry anyway? I nodded along. I had so many more questions to ask her, but instead of overwhelming her with my curiosity, I just gave her a smile. Then she went off to chase her son around the garden and swooped him up in her arms, all the while having the warmest and most loving laughter. As I looked on, mother and son stole my heart.

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Tomorrow, hopefully I'll wake up in time for the Quaker service. (Well, why am I blogging at midnight, you ask? Because it helps me unwind from this long, eventful day.)

Aside from the silence, which I crave so much, I look forward to seeing this young guy that resembles George Michael from Arrested Development and the identical twin of Marilla Cuthbert from Anne of Green Gables. For some reason, it amuses me so much to associate these Quaker church members with characters from pop culture.

"I have found that the art of simplicity simply means making peace with your complexity."

--india.arie

Beautiful of soul

After a one year hiatus, I finally returned to the Quaker church that breathed new spiritual life into me after the trauma that was the SP internship. This Sunday was potluck Sunday, and I was warmly invited to partake of it by several church members, most of whom are Medicare-eligible. I respectfully declined because my mom and sister had been frantically calling me during worship to ask me to come home and have family lunch. That's the way my family likes to plan things, last-minutely and with great urgency - and if you say no, you violate the codes of filial piety.

Worship at Quaker services, at least the Friends meeting (the only one I've ever attended), is very simple. When you arrive, you sit in a circle facing one another. Silence lasts for an hour. There is no preaching or outward rites or ceremonies because the emphasis is on the reality of the inward experience. Since there are no paid clergy, if someone feels led by the Spirit to speak, they may rise and give their word in order to enhance worship and deepen the silence. "The religious practices of Friends are found in direct communion with God and the conviction that the Divine Light is accessible to all; yet is one Light, one Truth.... Desiring to avoid symbolism that may tend to supplant substance, we do not observe traditional sacraments. Friends seek to view all of life as sacramental." As someone who is deeply interested in and exploring the contemplative stream of spirituality, the Quakers' style of worship does my soul a lot of good.

The discovery of this bottomless thirst for a rich inner life came about during summer 06, while in Cambodia and reading Stream of Living Water by Richard Foster, a Quaker author and theologian. The book covers six different traditions of the Christian faith, including tidbits of church history and spiritual biographies to supplement each section. The contemplative tradition appealed to me the most and left an immense longing for intimacy with the Divine. Probably the most memorable biography is that of Frank Laubach, who devoted his life to prayer and consequently developed a literacy program in remote parts of the Philippines and eventually worldwide. Laubach's life is particularly meaningful to me because his devotion to God went hand-in-hand with his concern for the broken and bleeding of humanity. Prayer was both an act of worship and a tuning in to the heartbeat of God, which ached for the world in pain.

In the words of Laubach: "God, what is man's best gift to mankind? To be beautiful of soul and then let people see into your soul."

My July 4th evening divided into three parts: partially attending a barbecue and saying goodbye while chomping on salmon burgers, partially riding the airplane and having the most spectacular aerial view of fireworks, and partially coming home and hanging out with my parents plus brother. Now I blog. Because a Chinese sage once said, "To re-create something in words is like being alive twice."

Tomorrow two good friends of mine are getting married to each other. They were high school sweethearts and have been dating for seven or eight years. That's a long time! I am very happy for them. Meanwhile, I've been recruited as the usher at their wedding because of my invaluable schmoozing skills. Actually, I would have never considered myself a schmoozer until T. called me two days ago and said, "We have the perfect job for you..." I think it has something to do with being in an Asian setting, where I somehow transmute into a socialite. In any case, I'm excited and a tad nervous to see old friends.



A funny?/appalling story:

My sister brought home her boyfriend today. That brave soul. This is her second boyfriend this year and I don't know how she does it - gather the courage to introduce them to my parents, that is. My parents, like most Asian parents, are not the come-as-you-are, no-questions-asked and we-are-so-excited-to-meet-you type. Actually, to be fair, neither of my siblings nor I have ever properly introduced our significant others to them. So most of my ideas about how my parents would deal with or react to the situation are based on my imagination rather than on experience (although my mom did try to scare away my first boyfriend once or twice, no wait, THREE TIMES).

Anyway, upon coming home my mom showed me the list of interivew questions my dad has requested to be asked of my sister's boyfriend:

1. Have you previously had a girlfriend?

2. Have you ever been married and/or divorced before?

3. Do you have any bad habits? Do you drink, smoke, or do drugs?

4. Do you have any sexually transmitted or contagious diseases?

5. What is your personal health history?


I really don't know who to feel more embarrassed for - my sister, whose intentions are to introduce her boyfriend to my parents out of respect; my dad, who hasn't the faintest idea how to relate with the boyfriend in a socially appropriate manner; my mom, who is coerced to ask the above questions; or the poor guy, who has to endure the insult of it all. Well, maybe it's not that bad. Maybe after my parents make sure that the guy isn't some psychotic serial killer or sex addict or drug abuser or a member of a polygamy cult, then they will let loose and give their full support. Yeah, maybe, let's hope so.



Beloved S., this song is for you: