Thoughts

I went on my first interview for a teaching position with a middle school that serves high risk kids.  It seemed like they already had someone in mind and were just going through the motions of interviewing others…  To be frank, I was relieved that I didn’t get the job.  The whole process brought with it tons of anxiety and feelings of doom that I used to get every time I tried giving teaching a chance.  I felt so overwhelmed, like I was opening a wound that I worked so hard to heal.  All these negative emotions and feelings of failure have exhausted me since. Am not sure where to go from here.  Since, I left my previous job, I have been courted by one of the competing companies, they are terribly interested in me going to work for them and now I am considering their offer. 

These past few years, I had been trying to get my Master Catechist Certificate because I had this desire to work for the Catholic Church.  I still do, even more now with the new sex curriculum that public schools need to implement.  So, am thinking that maybe I should take the mortgage job and continue seeking an opportunity within the Catholic Church.

I write these posts and let you into my life and sometimes I feel like sharing things every step of the way is over exposure because just because I write things down doesn’t mean that’s the way my life will go.  I have been watching this documentary about young girls that are incarcerated and I see how they sabotage their lives because they feel so unloved and like they don’t deserve any better.  They come from tumultuous homes where all the odds are set against them: parental abuse, neglect, drug and alcohol addiction, mental illness…  I see so much of myself in them because that’s where I came from, the only difference is that I had the unconditional support of my mother.  Yet, just because a person gets away from that chaotic atmosphere doesn’t mean that she leaves without deep scars and shadows.  I love an often miscited quote by Marriane Williamson where she expresses our biggest fear:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.  Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.  It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.  We ask ourselves who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?  Actually, who are you not to be?  You are a child of God.  Your playing small does not serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.  We are meant to shine, as all children do. We are to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.  It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.  And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.  As we’re liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

I’ve come along way, but I still carry a lot of fears that I need to let go.  Am not sure if I will make it back to teaching or if as Saint Junipero Serra said, “siempre adelenate” and that path needs to be left in my past; but, no matter where I go, I know that I will continue to strive to shine my light and trust that God has a plan that is better than anything that I come up with. 

Learning to Love the Rosary

I used to hate the prayer of the rosary.  From a young age I equated it with death since funerals were the only place that I ever heard the recitation.  When my grandma on my mother’s side died, I was five-years-old.  The night she died, as the family prayed the rosary, I was taken by mom to say good bye to my grandma, and I remember being terrified of the dead body; yet, mom made me go up to it, kiss and say goodbye.  After, I remember sitting through the novena watching my mother cry and mourn her loss. At that impressionable age, I didn’t understand fully what was happening, I just saw the daily gathering of the pueblo women to recite these prayers that made mom cry.  For a young child, nine days seemed like an eternity and I just wanted the praying days to end so that I would return to my normal life where mom was happy.  When my brother died, a group of women also gathered in my home to pray a novena for his repose and again I chose to leave the house so that I wasn’t present during the prayers.  Every day, I would grab Dollar and off we would disappear. 

As I explored the Christian faith, I learned in the non-Catholic churches I attended that reciting prayers written by other people was unheard off, God wants to hear us “in our own words” was the message I received.  “He especially delights in the prayers of new Christians who are still so humble that they haven’t picked up cliché phrases to make their prayers sound better,” I was told.  Thus, I got really good at having conversations with God, of telling Him using my own language my needs and hurts.  However, in moments of true desolation, when I had nothing to say I found that something was lacking.  As I reverted to the Catholic faith, I realized that the prayer of the rosary really helped when I was speechless in the presence of God.  I saw in my Jovenes Para Cristo community that the rosary was not just prayed in funerals, but was a highly favored prayer by the Church with mysteries that were joyful and luminous too.  I heard it prayed with the accompaniment of music and in community and I began to understand its beauty and power.

In my family we never gathered to pray, even though my mother is a very devout Catholic, she usually would just step away daily to pray her rosary privately.  As I have gotten older, I try to live my best life now and this is how the idea of planning a one night a week family prayer gathering came to me.  This year has been a challenging one for my family and I, thus, I invited them all to a Thursday rosary prayer moment.  We have been gathering to pray the rosary for each of our needs now for a little over a month and I can already see blessings from these short prayer moments.  Sometimes our own words are insufficient and having a guide to help us be in communion with God is such a blessing.   We all gather and in one voice we praise God and leave our petitions at His feet knowing that He will provide for our needs.  Thursdays are the luminous mysteries, mysteries that fill us with hope - to see God in each of the mysteries and reflect on holy his life is so encouraging.  I have learned that the rosary is quite a perfect prayer not only perfect for funerals, and novenas, but also to pray daily as a source of sustenance and that’s what I am trying to pass onto my family- though I am pretty sure they already new that.

Taking the Time to Getaway

Father was sharing how Catholics don’t believe in retreats anymore.  He said that twenty-five percent of the people that used Serra Retreat Campus are professionals, twenty-five percent non-Christians, twenty- five percent protestants and only twenty-five percent Catholic.  I found his statistics a little shocking because I try to go on a weekend retreat once a year and I thought most Catholics did the same.  Though I have never paid attention, I think the retreat center is not the only one that struggles with getting Catholics to sign up.  At the Sacred Heart Retreat House in Alhambra, I’ve also seen the sisters over promote their campus to be able to run their home.  If one is new to the faith a retreat does sound a bit odd, and they can seem expensive because usually people think that all faith-based programs should be free.  Yet, the small fee goes into running the center so that we can all have access to beautiful places of worship where we can leave behind the world to encounter Christ.

I think that for me, my first retreat was the pivotal point in my faith journey.  At the time I was still very new to faith, I remember that I drove my car to Big Bear thinking if these people try to brain wash me, I will get in my car in the middle of the night and disappear.  Though I had a getaway plan- I never felt the need to use it, in fact when the retreat was over, I didn’t want to return to my life I craved to stay in the mountains with God.  In those mountain grounds, miracles occurred I had an encounter with God that began years of healing to come.  Every time I go on retreat – the same happens, I go up in need of His salvific waters and He never disappoints to give me drink.

This last retreat, my friend who is a quarter Papago Indian planned a prayer moment just for me.  In her culture labyrinths are used to show the journey through life with all the twists and turns.  She explained how we all have a path we must walk and how a block in the road is not seen negatively, but rather a way to direct our course towards the center.  The maze design symbolizes the choices we make in our journey through life.  In reaching the center we look back reflecting on all the choices that got us to there.  Usually people carry objects with them to leave at the center- she gave me a rock she painted and asked me to pray for all the things that I wanted to leave at God’s feet.  When I reached the center, she used a horn to call on the four winds.  I found this unique way of prayer to be so enlightening and enriching.  I always associated labyrinths with pagan worship, yet the way she introduced me to her culture I found so special.  God really transcends all human barriers.

Each retreat that I have been on has filled me with blessings.  It has fortified my faith and encouraged me in my path with God.  Thus, if you haven’t given yourself the opportunity to go on retreat, make the effort to leave behind all with the desire to encounter God.  He is patiently waiting.

Introverts and Expressing Emotions

When I was in fifth grade, I confided in a friend that I liked this boy.  While I trusted that she would keep it to herself, she went and told the boy.  After learning about my feelings, this boy chased me into the girl’s bathroom shouting that he didn’t like me back including some not very nice things.  I have always been a sensitive person, an introvert to the core and having such a public display of rejection traumatized me for life.  So, if I had crushes, I kept them to myself for fear of this reoccurring.  I excelled in keeping my emotions hidden, so much so that I am certain none of the guys I’ve liked have ever had the slightest suspicion of my attraction.  I saw friends catching men’s attention and smiling when they locked eyes- I saw them getting drinks bought and finding relationships and even though I frequented the same pubs I never left with anyone’s number.  I was too afraid or maybe too proud to dare lock eyes with anyone.

Late in college after too many drinks I asked a guy why I wasn’t getting approached, "am I that unattractive," I spilled.  He looked deeply at me and said, "guys don’t approach you because all of you screams "don’t come my way." You sit at the bar without smiling or ever look at the direction of a man to express interest.  Guys need a little encouragement to take a leap your way.  They need to know that they can come towards you with low odds of rejection."  Though I pondered at his advice, I found that somehow, I was damaged that way- that my fear of rejection prohibited me from showing any sign of interest… 

Fast-forward to today, I am still terrified of rejection, but my faith is teaching me to set aside that fear because if I am interested in someone, I have to express that interest to motivate him and vice versa.  Lately, I’ve had a lot of time to pray and God is showing me that my worth is given to me by Him; thus, if I get rejected, I am not any less me.  I am not any less valuable.  He’s also slowly filing away insecurities and showing me how showing interest looks on me.  And going to a bar, locking eyes and smiling is not my thing because I don’t want flings, I want a friendship that will hopefully turn into more.  Yet, even in a friendship there has to be little signs of encouragement otherwise as Pablo Neruda beautifully put it:

“If little by little you stop loving me / I shall stop loving you little by little / If suddenly you forget me / do not look for me for I shall already forgotten you”     

I love this poem because it expresses so beautifully that any type of relationship depends on both parties investing in one another.  In showing each other interest.  The friendship thrives when both parties give of one another.  I also love it because the narrator captures a possible end with hope, not crumbling in pain:

"I shall lift my arms / and my roots will set off / to seek another land"

 Siempre adelante, trusting in God's plan.  Our faith shows us that even for introverts like me have difficulty expressing interest, through the fostering of friendship one can slowly let those barriers down, confident in God's plan for our lives.

Manifestations of God in My Life

After my RCIA end of the year bash, I went to Mass at Holy Spirit Parish to unite with the Church in celebration of Pentecost, the birthday of our Catholic Church.  I was able to witness for the first time in my life (on this Feast Day) fourteen people being Confirmed; thus, being fully initiated into the body of Christ.  In all my life, I had never had the honor to be present during a confirmation ritual on Pentecost.  Witnessing this holy moment in the lives of my brothers and sisters- reminded me and my life and the third person of the trinity.  From the very beginning of my reversion- the Holy Spirit has been the force that has changed my life and inspired my mind and heart to an ongoing conversion.

Pope Francis constantly speaks about the importance of an encounter with God in the lives of believers.  For me the Holy Spirit has been the one that has always led me to Christ.  When my brother was dying in the ER, I went outside and was sitting on the curb outside begging God for a sign of His existence.  It was a muggy day and all of the sudden this great, misty wind shook the leaves of the trees and enveloped me in the tightest embrace.  It was a different type of wind, one that took with it my hopelessness and began a fire deep within me.  At the time I had no knowledge that biblically the wind is synonymous with the Holy Spirit, it took me awhile to learn that God comes to us in creation – sometimes through a powerful gust of wind.  Since, I have had these moments when I am in deep prayer and I feel His wind surround me- and it comes in areas where wind just doesn’t make sense.  In an enclosed space without air conditioning, on a hot day when everything is still, in the small, confined chapel… 

It happens most often when I need a spiritual reboot, when things are going crazy and I am fighting so hard to not lose my peace. Things here have been quite challenging lately and not because I am looking for a job, but because those I love are facing critical moments in their lives and I can’t do anything to alleviate their pain other than to prayerfully be present.  Yet, when I am becoming overwhelmed, I turn to God and He always lets me know that He is with me.  Sometimes, I kneel to pray and close my eyes so that I can better concentrated- I disclose the state of my heart and when I really need it, I feel this cool wind surround me.  These manifestations tell me He is with me, that I am not alone and that my troubles too shall pass.  It’s as if I am Popeye receiving a can of spinach that my skin absorbs until my inner most being has a strength only activated by God.  I the rational- who constantly seeks proof to grow in my faith – believe wholeheartedly that Christ left us the Paraclete to guide and inspire; to love and to strengthen…  That’s probably why I love Pentecost Sunday- because on that day the whole Church felt His power and through it the world changed forever.

Sacrament of Marriage In Healing Our Society

Yesterday, I treated myself to an event where Scott Hahn spoke on the Sacrament of Marriage.  He is promoting his new book The First Society in which he explains that Catholic marriage is the answer to bettering society.  I come from a family where my parents just celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary and their commitment to the Sacrament has really inspired how my siblings and I think about matrimony.  Recently, my mom was sharing that early in her marriage she packed her belongings and took my brother (her only child at the time) and sought refuge at her mother’s home.  Mom said that as the end of the day came to a close my grandma asked mom to go home because it was getting late and mom responded that she was leaving my dad.  My grandma then said, “daughter, I warned you long before you married him that he was an alcoholic and that you were going to suffer because of it and you made your choice to marry him.  So, now go home and be a good wife.”  This would be the last time that my mother would try to leave my dad.  

For years she suffered the neglect and alcoholism of my father.  These were bleak years in which she saw dad squander money, get into bar fights, come home in state of disarray from falling in drunkenness, bring his drunk buddies and expect my mom to serve them, neglect his parental duties…  Mom suffered silently and as I grew into a teenager, I resented her for staying with my dad even when he was so utterly selfish…  Yet, as time passed- as I grew into an adult, I saw the sanctification of my mother and through her self-denial and prayerful persistence the transformation of my father.  She has taught me that marriage is for life and a choice that sometimes doesn’t feel great- but always chooses the beloved.  That there are times (even years) in marriage where it sucks, but if you survive these difficult moments all is worth it.  My dad would come to recover from his alcoholism and to this date he’s been sober for twenty plus years.  These years have allowed me to see a transformation that sometimes I still have to pinch myself to accept that I have the most amazing father.    

These past years, have been the golden years in my parents' marriage.  I see them together and it warms my heart because after fifty years they are more in love than ever.  My dad has changed so much, he constantly boasts about my mother and how lucky he is to have her. Yet, his actions are what most impress me.  He’s always thinking about how to lighten her load and constantly showers her with flowers and sweet words.  What he didn’t do as a young man in wooing mom, he does now and he’s more than made up for all the suffering he inflicted. 

Scott Hahn spoke about the importance for married couples to share with others that in matrimony there will be huge challenges and times when the spouses feel like huge failures.  I have seen this in my parents’ relationship; yet, I have also seen them triumph and to finally fall rhythmically into a harmonious place side-by-side.  It’s difficult to reach fifty years of marriage even harder to reach it madly in love as my parents are- but if I have learned one thing from them is that love is a choice.  Love is not a feeling that wears off when the serotonin levels in the brain level, it's a choice perhaps the most difficult choice – to choose daily, love above all. It is through this relationship of the two that my family is so close knit - my parents are the foundation that constantly brings us together in joy or adversity.  Thus, when I hear that Catholic marriage has the power to heal society- I completely agree.     

Bumping into Fat Friar Jacques

During my retreat weekend I came across a jolly fat friar sculpture in one of the Serra Retreat Gardens.  He reminded me of Friar Jacques from the famous nursery rhyme and thus I baptized him as such, since there was no name tag on him.  This perfectly round character gave me so much to ponder because from any angle that you look at him, Friar Jacques is quite round.  Yet, his smile and arms lifted in a position of prayer or open to take you in a warm embrace really spoke to me.  So much so that I asked my friend to take a picture of me with him, so that when I am having low self-esteem days, I can remember that it’s ok to be chubby.  I think that every year I write a post on weight and it seems like I get nowhere in the department of losing usually because I give priority to other things instead of working out.  That combined with the Seroquel that I take for my bipolar makes it almost impossible to lose an inch.  Recently, I was doing research on people with bipolar and weight loss and found that most people on Seroquel find it impossible to lose weight because the medication is to blame.  Thus, I have been thinking long and hard about whether I should change my medications. 

The encounter with Friar Jacques, helped me because even chubbies belong to God and can do a whole lot of good.  Sometimes people with weight issues easily postpone things in wishful thinking- I won’t do or attend that until I am a size smaller.  I know that I have thought that plenty of times, especially when it’s a reunion and I haven’t seen a person in a while- in the back of my mind I am afraid of their judgment, “Wow, Penny has gained weight…”  The thing is that even when I was at my smallest, (size 7/8) I still struggled with weight issues.  I always thought I was fat- even when I was at a healthy weight.  I see pictures of myself from those days and I think how in the world did I think that I was fat then?  Back then it was probably because I was addicted to reading Fashion Magazines and the women in those pages were all a size 0.  I felt like I didn’t reflect the type of beauty those periodicals sold.  Obviously, it also went deeper with the abuse I experience as a child and this feeling of ugliness that it gave me.

Now as adult, I have made peace with a lot of the psychological issues that I grew up having, but I still struggle with self-image mostly because of the weight I have gained due to the bipolar medication that I take.  For the longest time my motto has been fat-but mentally healthy.  Yet, I know that I can try to be both physically and mentally healthy.  I haven’t decided (it’s a huge decision) if I am changing my meds, but I will continue to live my best life always.  Bumping into fat ol’ Friar Jacques really helped me understand that I need to be content with myself whether slim or plump.  I have a body that is round, but healthy and I need to be thankful for it instead of ashamed by it.  While I strive to lose the pounds, I also need to strive to accept me because as I age my body is going to go through many changes and I need to learn that no matter what physical changes occur I am worthy and capable of blessing the world with my existence.  I looked at the chubby friar and his whole person emanated jolliness, he looked like he really enjoyed life so much so that he didn’t allow issues with self-image to negate him of life’s beauty.  I still look at the photo I took of him and I can’t help, but smile- so many lessons learned from this fat brother (smile).