Un-utterable

Nietzsche, in the fourth book of his "Joyful Science", says something like "with the first breath of spring I want to sing my dearest wish: that I can ever more learn to see as beautiful that which is necessary in things". I awoke Friday morning with this idea perculating in my mind. The haunting depths of Nietzsche's nihilism were lurking as always with the awe-inspiring beauty I see in his tragically un-realized philosophy of inspiration and life. Yet on Friday I felt more confidence in the accompanying feelings of trust and forgiveness, and I had the sense the latter two sentiments really could raise Nietzsche's broken words to life, especially in a place like El Salvador.

My thoughts Friday morning have helped me to begin to articulate something I've been struggling and desiring to articulate since arriving in El Salvador: my reason for being here. I think in a country that has seen so much suffering, so much degradation and violation of human dignity, and that continues to suffer under an unjust and unredeemable world-economic system- In a country where neighbors have slayed neighbors, and neighboring countries have been invited to join- life would be impossible if it were not for forgiveness. The average Salvadoran campesino would die of rage and injustice. The green dusty mountains would shrivel in the heat and the only drops of water left running would be in the blood of all the innocent women, children, men, and human life destroyed in the unthinkable processes of betrayel we call "war", "politics", "ignorance", and "fear".

Fortunately for El Salvador, fortunately for the human soul, there is a capacity for forgiveness. And it runs rampant in El Salvador. In fact I think there are elements in the Salvadoran landscape and manner of family life that tacitly and persistently preach the necessity and truth of forgiveness. (Talk about learning to see as beautiful that which is necessary- that your country suffers from centures of polarized economics, gang violence, and the daggers of hunger and poverty.)

Well, as horrible a picture as I may paint of El Salvador or the world, when I am here I come into contact with the deepest sense of peace I have ever experienced. To be accepted by my host family- my abuela, David, and Chomingo- to be embraced by the kids of Barrio San Jose in the immediate environs of the Center- to share the sacred space we create in a session of yoga. To be welcomed by Salvadoran smiles, to be invited every single day to learn something new- a personal story, a history, a Spanish word- I feel as if the evil and corruption in me as a fellow bearer of the human form living in the world, is totally forgiven.

Of course I do not always feel this way- inspired, happy, full of peace. There are times when I am dirty and tired and downright uncertain where my mind is. But every day when I wake up I am in love with a world that can see so much pain and tragedy and still give me green and sunshine and my abuelita's "Como amanecio papita!?", and the opportunity to build a class, a community, a movement here with the people of Suchitoto.

Puchica. With all that said, the moment of the week which I wanted to mention surrounds my very lovely abuelita, Dona Carmen, the grandmother of David and Chomingo. (Although first I'll mention, partly for the sake of my own memory, that the abovementioned epiphany comes largely from Dean Brackley's "The Call to Discernment in Troubled Times" where he talks about the liberating experiencing of living with and working with our world's poor.)

Ok, so Thursday night I believe it was. I returned home from Yoga class and chorus with Sister Peggy (she gave me a ride out to the countryside) thinking I would grab a small dinner at the most reputable and clean-looking pupusaria I could find in El Bario. (My first night eating in the campo was followed by a morning in the hole-in-the-ground outhouse.) Dona Carmen had been making cheese earlier in the day before I took off for the Center and I remember thinking "there's no way I am going to eat that" (cheese was one of the culprits, I believe, for my initial ailment).

Anyway, I got home from class and I was just so inspired from the day. David had taken me for a tour through El Bario's mountains, sites of battle, farmlands with beautiful views of the lake and mountains, and we had capped it off with a fresh-from-the-farm vegetable soup; the yoga class had gone well as usual and I hadn't even prepared much for this one; I was just generally feeling spirited, so when abuelita offered me cheese and tortillas (both homemade) I said "sure, why not".

Well it was just such a special dinner. David and our neighbour Rene took off on some errand or another so it was just Dona Carmen and I. I made sure that she would be eating with me, because I think at first she just wanted to provide me with food, and then we sat down together. I asked Dona Carmen if she wanted to pray, "hacer una gracia", before we ate, and her response was priceless. I don't know if I'm correct in saying so, but it seemed as if maybe no one had asked her to sit down to a real, formal meal with grace and everything in quite some time.

Well we sat and ate, we talked about the day, about Abuelita's husband Antonio (who I do not believe is still alive), about how abuelita lost most of her eye to a tree branch during the war, and I told her all about my wonderful "novia", Alicia, who was going to be visiting us on Saturday. After dinner I shared the many pictures of my family and friends I had brought, introducing my parents and siblings, my girlfriend and cousins, and she must have asked me 10 times who was who everytime I showed her a picture with long-haired me and Alicia.

Ahh. I cannot articulate the words.... Well Alicia has come and gone by now, and the other volunteers and I are getting ready to meet for a spirituality night tonight with Sister Peggy. After seeing Alicia and introducing her to my various friends and family here, my mind is full of thoughts of the future, and thoughts of all the projects I want to enact in El Bario. Before deciding to return to the Center to blog, it was great to spend a few quiet moments looking out over the mountains and lake here and determining myself to stay in the moment and love the people to whom I've been given to love. That means: poetry classes tomorrow, yoga class Tuesday, and a meeting with community members in El Bario Tuesday to see if I can't start some kind of class or activity out in El Bario. Oh yea, and also seeing Alicia Friday for another visit to our friends in Tepecoyo (our previous service site from 2009).

Final thought: "Love has no ugly underbelly. Go to a big space and let out all your spite and anger. Then you will return to the first movement of love to which your soul aspires."

Peace.

Alex