Growing in Brotherly Love

I have been looking at the life of Saint Francis more deeply as I continue my path towards joining the Secular Franciscan Order.  It’s been a long path towards getting professed and I yearn for the day that I will finally be officially a member.  Sometimes, I get discouraged because I didn’t think that it would take this long- but I am reminded of the qualities that I admire most of Saint Francis and I stick with it.  Recently, I heard about a time that a brother told Francis that someone had used his room, and Francis didn’t like the fact that they referred to his sleeping quarters as “his” so he found a different place to sleep at.  It’s impressive that he went from this man that loved to wear the latest fashions to a man that wanted nothing, but God. 

Recently, I was asked why I love Saint Francis - his way of life pulls me in like a magnet.  He loved animals, creation, simplicity… But I what I love most is that he saw God in everything!  He understood God’s language imbedded in the entirety of His creation.  That’s why Francis created such beautiful poetry about the small things in life, why he spoke to the animals and why he cried when he saw the beauty of a sunset.  Francis understood (what most of us forget) that God is everywhere.  He is especially in reflected in the poor and marginalized.

I work with students that mostly haven’t done well in school prior to coming to us, so they are not used to getting recognized as scholars; thus, when I started working at my school I implemented student of the month with my kids.  When the principal found out what I was doing she decided to implement it with the entire school and it has been such a success because students love the recognition.  This week, for Student Council I had an awards ceremony and gave every student a medal for participation.  We all dressed up and I bought a disco light to make it more like a party and each student got recognized, then we had a moment for speeches and the kids even the shy ones were so moved by their awards!

Sometimes, it’s hard to see God in difficult people and that’s when I want to most emulate Saint Francis’ love for the poor.  He saw beyond the ugly hurt of people and understood that God’s love could transform even the ugliest beast.  Time and time again I see this in my life and work.     

We All Need A Little Love

There’s something utterly captivating about humility; yet, it’s such a tricky concept that if one recognizes it can easily be lost in the acknowledgement. I grew up in poverty, surrounded by people that had little to no formal education.  As I grew up and made it out of the barrio and entered a world opened to me by education I had to face many first-time experiences- unknown to the world where I came from.  My first post job took me to the Ritz-Carlton and I remember thinking how much happier I would be speaking with the workers in the kitchen.  In the Monarch Bay Courtyard, I shuffled around people who asked me about my parent’s political views or if I was daughter of the Duarte’s who founded the city. While I went around meeting people whose costume jewelry was probably the real thing, I heard my native tongue occasionally making its way as the kitchen door opened and closed.

I have never been comfortable in luxury, I prefer humble gatherings and people too.  It’s funny because I always saw myself working at a school helping students that were like me immigrants, English being their second language, living in the hood… I knew how I could reach these kids.  Yet, God has a funny sense of humor and I was to take a job at a school were the students that I serve the majority are designer-wearing, middle class, white kids.  I was thinking, “God, what in the world am I going to teach students that come from households where during quarantine they don’t need to worry about having internet access, a computer or even a private space to do their work – they have it all materially speaking?”  Those firsts days I struggled shifting from my humble bubble into a charter at a location where for the most part economics is not an issue.  Seventy percent of my students come from households where parents have gone to college.

Yet, as I have fought my own battles trying to feel more comfortable with all types of people, I see that in the end we are human beings with the same needs for love.  The majority of the students that I work with come to us because they have been bullied or because they have mental illnesses that prevent them from functioning at a normal school.  I see kids with deep levels of depression and anxiety – illnesses that make traditional school a nightmare.  Through my service, I see that though they have everything from someone looking in through a window into their lives– these kids need love and that I can give.  God placed me at this school to show me that everyone (even people that have everything materially speaking) need assistance.  We are brothers and sisters not just of the poor, but of everyone.     

Parents, Sons and Daughters

There comes a day, when as a son or a daughter you realize that the roles have been switched, the parents that all of your life have taken care of you now require you to care for them.  It’s a difficult realization to start to see their strength weakening and to accept that those two people who have been your rock, your foundation are no longer as strong and that with each passing day they grow weaker.  This pandemic if anything, it has shown us with older parents that they are fragile.  Many of us have kept our distance and isolated ourselves with our families this past year and while physically our bodies have been spared, psychologically we have suffered. 

Recently, even the jolliest of people have been diagnosed with anxiety and depression.  Some have lost their coping mechanisms like Church and Bible Study Groups and have fallen back into the old habits of drugs and alcohol…  While the message all this past year plus has been stay safe and keep away – not much attention has been paid to consequences of this mandated isolation.  In my own nucleus I have seen the psychological challenges of COVID and I pray that the worst is behind us, that we can now begin to heal from difficulties the pandemic has brought to each of us personally. 

While for me only my agoraphobia has been heightened, I recently took my mom to the doctor because she’s been affected psychologically by us trying to keep her safe by having her home as much as possible.  She normally is a social butterfly and having been kept away for over a year has taken a toll on her usual cheerful disposition.  While, I know that with medication and therapy she will pull through it seeing her feeling unwell gave me a glimpse into our future. I began to feel our roles changing I becoming the caretaker.  In my culture we have this unspoken rule that parents take care of their children, until their children are old enough to take care of them.  It's a beautiful tradition nonetheless to watch your heroes grow older and weaker takes time to get used to.      

Getting It Right

Lately I haven’t been very creative outside of my job.  I didn’t realize how much returning to teaching would take from me, especially during a pandemic.  Fellow mates who have taught over a decade tell me they haven’t worked this hard even when the classroom size was larger. So, forgive me if this space is suffering. It seems like just when I have a routine down, things turn everything upside down.  In my previous job I had the luxury of monotony, I could practically do my job “with my eyes shut” as the expression goes and this new gig leaves me depleted of energy and creative juices.

I remember that on rides home from my office job I had these great conversations with God.  I constantly asked him that if I was to remain single for the rest of my life that at least He would provide a job that gave me some fulfillment. In matters of prayer, I am still learning as I go and I think at the time I asked God for a job with purpose in my mind I thought that I could only have one and not the other.  When I began teaching, I felt like God had carved my path towards job contentment and closed the door to the possibility of marriage and family.  I put all of my energy into teaching and serving my kids to the best of my ability.  Yet, as a year has gone by since I started working I see that I am a multifaceted person.

Maybe the fact that the only thing I have been able to do this pandemic year was work and maybe the fact that all of my Bible study groups and religious activities were stripped from me that I understand that while my job gives me the greatest satisfaction- it’s not enough.  I need more.  Deep in me I still want a husband and my own family.  My previous self, thought that asking God for both things was just too much to ask for.  I still remember my fifth-grade teacher speaking to another teacher and telling her, “how he didn’t understand these immigrant Mexican girls, who when asked what they wanted to be when they grew up was to be wives and mothers.” This comment has remained with me throughout my life because the tone of his voice made it seemed like wives and mothers was beneath career women.  I think I thought that it had to be one or the other - family or career and that’s how I have presented God my plea.  In doing so, I have restricted God’s power.  Yet, with experience comes wisdom and I see that though I love working with teens and helping them complete their high school requirements- there’s more that I desire, like being a wife and a mother.          

Rituals

 I have been watching the funeral for Prince Phillip, Duke of Edinburg this morning.  I do have a weakness for the royal family, Kate Middleton being my favorite.  It’s been really neat getting to see all the rituals and ways of celebrating the life of the monarch, especially after all the criticism about whether the royal family will become extinct in this cancel culture time.  From the beginning I have paid attention to all the announcements and details being shared with the public about the funeral.  I am glad that even during the pandemic the family has the ability to give their loved a small yet proper good bye. 

In the Catholic faith we know the importance of ritual and even though modernity might try to rid of it, it continues because we are creatures who need more than bread to survive.  Rituals feed our soul; they mark points in our lives both beginnings and ends; they play a role in building our personal and cultural identity; they help shape our emotions and deepen our spirituality.  In times of good byes rituals help us to share our pain and begin our healing.    

In my culture, we have many rituals surrounding the death of a loved one.  It begins with anointing of the sick, viewing, Mass, burial followed by a novena and concluding a year later at the anniversary of death with a special Mass for the departed.  I have witnessed how healing the Catholic-Mexican rituals are to those left behind in mourning and it’s beautiful to have these norms passed on thru generations because they speak when words do not suffice. 

While people are saying that the British Monarchy has no place in the future, I am glad to see on difficult days like today that their customs and traditions are bringing the country together.  Even people across the sea are fascinated with all the details about the funeral and why things are done the way they are.  It’s great to be able to see from across the ocean to see the importance of ritual even today.

Evaluating My Roles

 I had a eureka moment recently, after a year of being limited in what I could and could not do I lost the understanding that as a Catholic I am meant to live my life intentionally.  Quarantine put a stop to many activities and I (like most people) gave up without a fight.  Overwhelmed with distance learning I have been living in survival mode and have neglected so many parts of my life.  One of those has been my role as a Catholic.  When the churches were closed I struggled having to give up all the things that give my soul sustenance, but as time went on I got used to not having to go to Mass on Sunday. I got used to not being able to go pray inside a parish or attend any of the many activities that I used to participate in.  Now that everything is opening up again, I find myself struggling with leaving my house.  I got so used to being at home trying to survive that entering the world and adding more activities is giving me anxiety- even if those activities are things that nurture my being.

The closer to the inside = Underperforming. I am only extraordinary in my eBay business.

As I have reflected on my identity as a Catholic I realized that currently I am underperforming and I think that I am not the only one.  This quarantine has taken away from each of us so much, while for me it has only been activities that filled me up – I am struggling with entering back into the real world and not hiding behind a Zoom meeting.  In my social media I see people entering the world doing all sorts of fun things and I am having difficulty leaving my house.  I have gotten so used to being home that even attending Mass gives me anxiety. 

I find myself thinking how did I do all the things that I did prior to COVID?  What I have realized is that life is meant to be lived intentionally.  Before the pandemic I lived my life doing things that made me a better a human being- I wasn’t focused on just surviving.  While distance learning still takes a lot energy, leaving me feeling like I just want to vegetate in front of the television to distract me from the anxiety that teaching virtually gives me, I need to start trying to bring normalcy back into my days.  At first doing things that required no effort before might be nerve wrecking, but as they become habits the nerves will vanish.  I kept criticizing myself for having such a difficult time making Sunday Mass a routine again, but now I know that it’s normal to feel anxious about change- even if that change is good for me.  I think building up my life again post quarantine will have it’s struggles and it’s ok to have those negative feelings, but the secret is not to dwell in the anxiety, but to work with it to slowly start living not just to survive, but intentionally as God intended.        

My Cross

“I am spiritual, not religious,” yep, I was one of those people. 

I have a cross to prove it.  After I started my spiritual journey as an adult I had to do a lot of growing up before I could accept the crucifix.  I felt a bare cross was way more beautiful, inclusive and kept me far away from religious fanatics.  I remember mom taking a trip to Mexico and asking me what I wanted her to bring back and I said, “I want a wooden cross, but without Jesus on it.”  My mom, a devout Catholic, perhaps saw my shame for religious things even so she had a beautiful mahogany cross made for me.  I still display it on my bedroom wall because it reminds me of my journey back to the Catholic Church and of my mother’s tolerance as I overcame my shame for my roots and identity.

My most difficult student has severe depression and anxiety and instead of acknowledging that she needs help she blames everything on her parents.  She says her depression is caused because she lives in an apartment and her parents have minimum wage paying jobs and only speak Spanish.  Her mom constantly calls me to vent, most recently because her daughter is refusing to speak Spanish to them.  I work with this student and try to penetrate her shields and show her that there is no shame in humble roots, but she is stuck in Shameville.  I try to get her to take responsibility instead of play the victim, but she has found a resting place in her own shame.

Yesterday, I was looking at my bare cross, thinking about my journey out of shame and into accepting that I am religious after all.  My bare cross a reminder of my mom’s unconditional love.  Before I found God, I was equally insecure and sometimes ashamed of my humble beginnings including the religion that my parents had passed down to me.  “Catholic” sounded so definite and conjured so many negative associations to a former loving Nietzsche Agnostic, thus hiding behind a barren cross I felt progressive.  Yet, as I fell in love with Jesus and got to know my Catholic faith thru him, I found the greatest strength to make the leap out of shame.  On Good Friday we venerate the cross, in services all over the world each person comes towards the altar to honor the cross with a reverent touch or kiss.  It’s one of the times that you will see a barren cross at a Catholic Church, it’s such a special service to me because it reminds me of my transformation, who would have thunk that one day I would say, “I am spiritual and religious.”    

Lenten Traditon BEach Via Crucis

Yesterday, I attended one of my favorite Lenten activities, our RCIA Via Crucis at the beach.  Thanks to working from home, I was able to meet my friends afterward to help with the setup of each station.  This year, while waiting for the students to arrive I saw a family of dolphins jumping delightfully close to the shore.  During the Via Crucis I got to see a beautiful a sunset, the moon rise and the beach empty becoming only ours while we prayed.  It was extremely cold around  9PM when we concluded, but the fruits of our labors were evident in the hearts of our students.  They were delighted by such a beautifully set introduction to our Lenten prayer and shared with us how they felt God’s presence intimately. 

Usually, I am in charge of taking pictures, but yesterday I wanted or rather needed to just focus on the prayer without any distractions because I so needed that moment with God.  Lately, I have been struggling keeping the flame alive in my spiritual life.  Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed by my job and the isolation and lockup due to the pandemic that I just have enough energy to get through my work day.  I am not only dealing with my personal feelings of anxiety, but also the emotional rollercoaster of the teens and the parents that I work with.  Before I was able to attend weekly bible study meetings and social events that filled me up.  I could run into a parish and be with Jesus or just sit in silence in a pew. My coping mechanisms and spiritual therapy were put on hold this past year and I have been running close to empty.  

Thus, being able to pray at the beach with my friends and students was the biggest Lenten blessing. I needed to be there in the company of faith friends worshipping God.  Last year we were unable to do our beach Via Crucis and so yesterday it was that much more special, a sign that life is slowly going back to normal.  In the years that I have done it I have never seen dolphins join us and seeing them yesterday warmed my heart.  I felt like God gave me a late Valentine by giving me a glimpse of the dolphins doing summersaults in the air.  I realized there’s a big world out there one with waves, sunsets and creatures living under water and sometimes I get lost in the small bubble that is my life.  The beach reminded me of my smallness and in doing so pointed me towards the greatness of our Lord. 

"Look at the birds of the air that they do not nor reap nor gather into barns and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?" 

Pathway to SFO Profession

On Friday, after work I had my interview to enter into the new phase of candidacy in my Secular Franciscan Order journey.  Now after the Rite of Admission, I will have moved from my prolonged Inquiry State to the next level before my Rite of Profession.  The interview had me recall my journey, specifically the calling of the Holy Spirit towards the Franciscan life and I loved looking back at all the moments that I recall Saint Francis calling me towards his way of life.  To be honest, it was so refreshing and inspiring at a time like this to look back because during this quarantine I have felt so empty and void of sustenance.  COVID took away my bible study groups and Mass- it took away my tangible relationship with my faith community and with the Eucharist- making it such a challenging year without the things that keep sane and healthy mind, body and soul.

My story with Saint Francis is your typical love story, he just showed up in my life and slowly wooed me into the Franciscan life.  I remember not understanding and being quite apprehensive about the saints and one day in the first prayer group that I joined I heard “Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace,” which is often attributed to Francis and I loved the hymn so much that I wanted to know more about the composer.  Finding that he loved animals and nature (something that I do too) made me open my heart to him and slowly I began to find how beautifully original he was.  When I returned to the Catholic faith I feared losing myself and becoming a la Nietzsche a “brainless sheep follower…” I wanted so much to be able to be Penny and love God.  Francis showed me that I could continue being me because God made me uniquely me for a purpose.  I soon found I loved nativities and when I discovered that Francis had been the first one to create one, I loved him even more. 

After returning to the Church I desired to enter into a community that would help me live out my faith and a friend took me to a Dominican Third Order meeting and though the people were really sweet I didn’t feel like that was the path for me.  When I finally found the SFO Fraternity near my home, I attended my first meeting and even though all the members have white hair I knew that I was home.  I knew that I wanted to grow roots and live out the rest of my life as a Franciscan.  I think that God has been challenging me to see how strong my desire is for joining the SFO that I have been in formation for longer than usual first because we lost our Spiritual Leader and then because of a pandemic.  Like I told my fraternity members, “you better let me in, because I am not going away.”           

Hoarding The Beginnings

I grew up with the bare minimum, shopping from the sale racks for basic necessities.  While my classmates had school supplies with the latest Sanrio characters my materials were without adornment.  They would return from Winter & Spring Break wearing new clothes (that their grandparents had gotten), but I had no one spoiling me with material possessions.  The day after Spring Break the most popular girl in elementary twirled in what she called her “Easter dress,” proudly sharing with everyone that her grandma had taken her to Robinson’s May to pick it out.  My grandparents lived in Mexico and I rarely got to see them and when I did my parents were usually the ones providing for them…  My parents too grew up in Mexico sometimes lacking the basic needs.     

I lied on a job application and began working when I was fifteen-years-old as a cashier at a fast food joint.  Since, it's as Tupac would sing, “…I love payin’ rent when the rent’s due…”  Most of my life I would go to stores and look at items and think I can’t afford that and probably never will, but soon as I began providing for myself I began to buy the material luxuries that I went without. However, I couldn’t make peace with paying so much money for designer pieces and often I went with cheaper versions.  Until, I came into the world of buying preloved items.  At thrift stores I found treasures for a few bucks and thus my hoarding began.

I developed this love for things.  Shoes first because no matter what size the scale reads shoes are forgiving and continue to slide on the foot. That and the fact that I always saw kids wearing Nike sneakers and mine were always dupes.  As an adult secondhand shopper, I packed my closet full of the best material goods that only a few people can afford.  The thrill of excavating and finding the one-dollar Jimmy Choo’s was as much fun as putting the found treasure in a nice storage box in my closet.  Looking at all the wonderful designer goods and buying more and more made me happy for the longest time, but now my possessions are starting to give me anxiety.  I have too much and many of the items just sit like forgotten artifacts in an over packed closet.  Yet, equally anxious ridden is the thought of letting them go.  I think I have some hoarding symptoms that I need to work out in order to slowly simplify my life as I enter into the cadency phase of my (over-extended) Secular Franciscan process...           

Seriously who needs this many sunglasses?