Let It Go

"What I am is good enough if I would only be it openly." ~Carl Rogers

Maybe you're sick of this Frozen and "Let It Go" craze, or maybe you're still dancing in the streets trying to shoot ice from your fingertips. Either way, at least admit that the ultra popular song has a pretty good message.

It's a message that everyone already knows but needs to be said again and again. People should be more honest about their reality. It's such a simple concept. Seriously. Instead of putting on fake smiles and telling half-truths, we could just say what we're feeling. No need for hiding behind a made-up persona or pretending we have it all together. (Before I go any further, I admit that there are times when not letting people see everything is the better decision.) What I'm talking about is times when we are struggling or angry or embarrassed. Are you depressed? Don't keep that in. Are you mad? Tell someone. Are you afraid? Admit it.

None of us are rocks. We all have feelings, and we hurt. We have our insecurities and our shame. But we are pros at acting.

I feel like I do a fairly good job at times of appearing confident, but my reality is filled with second-guessing myself, running through various scenarios and conversations, and putting myself down for my mistakes. As much as I try to be open, I am also incredibly poor at letting people in. I bottle up all of my fears and anxieties until an outlet appears - good or bad. So, if I know that everyone else is most likely just as self-conscious or as insecure as I am, why do I still keep it to myself? Because we are supposed to be whole! No one is supposed to show weakness. We swallow our own insecurities and judge others for theirs because when we look at others, we almost always see the perfect life they allow us to see. It's only now-and-then that we catch glimpses of the real people around us. Social media certainly hasn't helped matters. Facebook makes it 1000x easier to filter what other people see and think of us, but that's an entire issue by itself.

The spotlight effect is real. We walk into a room full of people and totally overestimate how much they notice aspects of our appearance and behavior or even if they are aware of us at all. What we think others are thinking of us is most likely what we think of ourselves. I like the way Emma Brooke, another blogger, reacts to this. "If we can start to accept and be who we are, we just may realize not only that it’s okay, but that most other people think it’s okay too."

Back to the question. Why don't we open up and let others in? We don't have to share everything all the time, but if I admit my own insecurity/fear/anxiety, you might decide to share a word of wisdom with me because of a similar experience you've had.

We have a lot to share with each other. We just don't know that it needs to be shared.

Bunnies and Clowns!!!

Wow! It feels like ages since we last talked! I guess it's true what they say: Time flies like the wind. Fruitflies like bananas. (That's a joke. It works better if you say it instead of see it. Now go use it on someone else.) There has been a lot that has happened in the last month, so here's a quick overview.

First up - Easter. Do you know what happens at Quaker Cottage during Easter time? The Easter Bunny comes to visit, that's what. It's actually really funny. The volunteers all fight for the chance to be the one to dress up, and this time, I won. Truthfully, it was a pretty easy fight because I was the only one who actually wanted to do it. The job was simple (or so I thought). All I had to do was don the costume and hop around briefly outside the cottage so that the kids could see me. What I discovered was the costume was like something out of a nightmare. First, I slipped into one of those white disposable coverall suits with the hood like what you would see at a crime scene except this one was torn and had dirt smudges on it. Then, I put on my giant cardboard ears. And finally, I covered my face with the most frightening bit - a hand-drawn bunny face mask. So yeah, it was creepy, but the best part was that due to unforeseen circumstances, I would be hopping around the garden of Belfast Castle - a very public space. The first time I did it was great (cough). I put on the costume and proceeded to wait for our kids to show up. This felt rather uncomfortable because I could just imagine what went through the minds of people on just a regular visit to the castle. They would come down the steps, look around for a bit, glance in my direction, and then stop. "Oh my goodness! Look at that creepy bunny man standing over there in the corner!" Thankfully, the kids arrived, and I started hopping around while at least six people took pictures of me. That was just the first day.

On the second day, I had a group of random kids who wouldn't leave me alone. They kept following me, saying things like "You're not the real Easter Bunny!" My costume must have had enough of this abuse because suddenly my face popped right off. The elastic band keeping my mask on had broken, and I had to rush to fix it before our kids showed up! I was able to fix it just in time for the kids and a double-decker bus full of tourists with cameras to arrive. Both days gave me plenty to laugh about, but my favorite moment was when I passed a bench where three good looking girls about my age were sitting. They pulled out their cameras, and I put on my best hopping pose. I expected at least one of them to give me her phone number, but I guess weird bunny guys aren't what girls are into these days.

The following week, I was extremely blessed because my parents and Shane and Amanda came to visit. The sun stayed out for nearly the entire trip which was phenomenal, so they really didn't get an authentic Irish experience. Unfortunately, Shane and Amanda went off on their own adventures, so I didn't see them for long. My parents and I went everywhere around the island and took in many fantastic sites. There are picturesque views around every bend of the road. I did have fun (not) helping my dad learn how to drive on the left side of the road. Although he did an excellent job, it was really too bad that I am still too young to rent a car. I could have at least given him a break from all that stressful driving. If you want to know more about our trip, either check out my picture album on Facebook or ask my parents or me about it directly.

I can't believe it, but it has already been four months since our last residential at Quakers. We leave for my third and last one on Tuesday. We all expect it to have some serious challenges particularly because of one family. But like always, we just work with what we've got and improvise when necessary. Sadly, because it's time for residential, it also means that we just finished our week of leaving parties. Another group has finished their full year with us, and heavy hearts were had by all. It's never fun saying goodbye to any of the families. It doesn't matter if the kids were horribly difficult to manage, they always leave a mark. I find it really neat to see how they children act on their last night up. Sometimes there is nonchalance or indifference, but it's absolutely heartbreakingly wonderful to see how much Quaker Cottage means to child when the tears flow. On Thursday, we said goodbye to one boy who is Tough with a capital T on the outside but is anxious and confused on the inside. More often than not, he is angry, but he's angry because he doesn't know how to be sad. Well, on Thursday, I saw a boy full of sadness who couldn't cry because he doesn't know how. That was hard. Like I say each time we say goodbye, I'm really going to miss those kids.

Have you ever played Chubby Bunny? If you haven't, you should, but only with kids, otherwise it's just gross. The goal of the game is just to fit as many marshmallows into your mouth as possible while still being able to say chubby bunny. We played this with our Thursday group, and it was hilarious! They started putting in the marshmallows one at a time, and up until about four marshmallows, everything was fine. At this point, many of their mouths were full, but they were wanted to keep going. I looked down at the really quiet, shy girl sitting next to me, and suddenly, an enormous stream of saliva comes dripping out of her mouth. It kind of shocked me, and I figured she was going to be completely embarrassed. But as the others started to reach the point where they could no longer close their mouths, the same thing started happening to them as well. Seeing them all sit there with bulging cheeks, marshmallows overflowing, and saliva dripping from their lips, I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Yesterday, I was both punched in the shoulder by a clown using physical comedy and kissed on the cheek by another. The Festival of Fools is happening in Belfast at the moment, so Becky and I decided to check it out. We saw a silent clown called Fraser Hooper who was absolutely hilarious. I had tears at times. If by any chance you have the opportunity to see him live, I recommend it. Now, back to getting punched. I found myself in the front row for this act, and as the guy was searching the audience for someone strong, his gaze landed on me. He brought me forward to lift an object up to the top of a ladder for him, but to test my strength, he had me punch him in the shoulder. So I gave him a tap which clearly wasn't hard enough because he turned to me and gave my shoulder a hefty jab. He then proceeded to give me various silly tasks and had frolick and dance with him. I was in my element up there! Moral of the story is don't sit in the front row or else a clown will punch you.

Here's Andrew telling you how to live again

Before I start, (...wait. That doesn't make sense. By saying that, I've already started!)
Before I get to the heart of the matter, I'd like to say that nobody likes to be told their doing something wrong, especially in regards to how they're living, and nobody particularly enjoys that church sermon that comes once each year about giving more money. This is not that, but it is that. This is just what I'm learning and hope to share with you, but I also hope it makes you just uncomfortable enough to really consider its broader implications.

Although I don't know much of anything about Pope Francis, I do know that he has made it a point to be a "voice for the poor."

“Among our tasks as witnesses to the love of Christ is that of giving a voice to the cry of the poor.” (Pope Francis, Address to the Archbishop of Canterbury, 6/14/13)

“The times talk to us of so much poverty in the world and this is a scandal. Poverty in the world is a scandal. In a world where there is so much wealth, so many resources to feed everyone, it is unfathomable that there are so many hungry children, that there are so many children without an education, so many poor persons. Poverty today is a cry.” (Pope Francis, Meeting with Students of Jesuit Schools—Q&A, 6/7/13)

I took a class in college called Contemporary Christian Thought in which we discussed various Christian theologies. We were tasked with choosing one theology, reading a book written by the theology's main proponents, and writing a report about the author's efficacy in getting his/her ideas across. I chose Latin American liberation theology and the book Where is God?: Earthquake, Terrorism, Barbarity, and Hope by Jon Sobrino. Reading this book and learning about liberation theology was the first time that I had ever felt punched in the gut when thinking about the poor. I did not fully agree with many things Sobrino wrote in his book, but I did take this away:

The path to salvation, according to Sobrino, is to become like the poor who, in turn, are like Christ, and the way to achieve this is through solidarity. Without offering a formal definition, he expresses that solidarity creates justice by rebuilding people and later rebuilding through acts of charity. Sobrino’s vision of solidarity is more than an ethical obligation but rather comes from knowing that we are doing the most fundamental human act, growing in an intimate relationship with other people. This definition of solidarity accurately shows that being honest with reality, allowing the world to affect us, is necessary and appropriate to produce humanizing behaviors. Through communion, love, and a close relationship with others who are suffering, we can see how the world treats them and what must be done to end this suffering.

All of this is to say that in my time here, I am learning to give generously and receive humbly. Giving can be difficult. I should know. I can be a cheapskate. Somewhere in my life, I learned to save as much as possible. I don't make many impulsive buys, and I take advantage of freebies whenever I can. I'm the guy who picks up pennies on the ground (which, by the way, is ridiculous. Take that spare change with you, toss it in a jar, and watch it add up.) So many people have less than me. That's almost not worth it to even mention because no duh! It's easy to put the less fortunate out of our minds because then we won't feel the pressure to help out when all we really want to do is bustle along with our iPads, Snuggies, and comfortable lives. "I worked for this! I earned it! I deserve this!" The reality is that we don't deserve any of this. Every bit of this life you and I are living is a gift that God granted us. God gave us more than we need and a million ways to share it. Yes, I find giving (esp. financial giving) tough. However, I do have plenty of free time to give, and I can *ahem* go volunteer somewhere.

In regards to receiving humbly, I have been on the receiving end of some exceptionally thoughtful giving, and I have felt how it is to receive. Sometimes it's easy. Sometimes it's embarrassing. And sometimes it's just unnecessary. No matter the case, if someone has offered a gift or to give you a lift or to cover your shift (hehe! rhymes...), just humbly accept, say thank you, and, like the Kevin Spacey film says, Pay It Forward.

Happiness

In honor of the International Day of Happiness:

Matthew 5:3-10

³ Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
⁴ Blessed are those who mourn,
    for they will be comforted.
⁵ Blessed are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
⁶ Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
⁷ Blessed are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
⁸ Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
⁹ Blessed are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.
¹⁰ Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Instead of reading it as "blessed," we can read it as "happy" for our happiness, our joy, comes from the Lord. 

³ Happy are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
⁴ Happy are those who mourn,
    for they will be comforted.
⁵ Happy are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
⁶ Happy are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
⁷ Happy are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
⁸ Happy are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
⁹ Happy are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.
¹⁰ Happy are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 

Share the love today (and all days). Smile at someone you don't know (and someone you do know). Give your spouse, significant other, or best friend that one thing that makes them wiggle with pleasure (and then give them something else). Smile some more (just because you can). 

If you don't feel like smiling at the moment, if you're finding yourself in a rut today or this week, if you think it's just going to get worse, put that aside for a few minutes. Allow yourself to be happy even for just a few moments despite the current struggle. It may be difficult, but it may just be worth it.

Drawbacks

Living in Belfast (well, Norn Iron in general) comes with its drawbacks. 

Roads blocked because of protests/parades - There has been a Loyalist protest at Twaddell Avenue since last July because they are upset (as if I really know what they're really feeling) with a decision made by the Parades Commission. The road is blocked every night from 7:30-8:30. We use this road daily.

 

Being hyper-vigilant about what you say and to whom you are saying it.  A few weeks ago, the Lord Mayor of Belfast visited the Quaker Meeting I attend. After the meeting, he spoke with Steffi and I about Quaker Cottage for a bit. During the talk, he asked us which road we take to come down the mountain. There are two roads: the Ballygomartin which heads down into a Protestant area and the Whiterock which heads into a Catholic area. In a backdoor sort of way, he was asking which side we supported more. Although he seemed like a very nice man trying to right the wrongs of the past, this question seemed out of place and inappropriate. This is the way conversations can often go. People just have a way of knowing whether someone is Catholic or Protestant based solely on what you say. Don't you dare let on that you're from Ardoyne (Catholic neighborhood) if you're in the Shankhill (Protestant neighborhood). Should I say Derry, Londonderry, Derry~Londonderry? Gotta be careful which sports team you claim to support. Even the way you pronounce letters (H can be 'aitch' or 'haitch' depending on where you're from) can tip someone off.

Security alerts - We had a security alert today in the neighborhood of one of our afterschool children and nearby several others. This forced us to make phone calls to their mums, reroute our bus runs, and find ways to avoid the roads that were closed off or severely backed up. A security alert essentially means that there could be a bomb/pipebomb/suspicious bag in the area. This is not the first time that I've dealt with a security alert. Sometime before Christmas, Becky, Steffi, and I ventured down to the City Centre. On the walk there, we passed by a cathedral. An hour later, we walked back along the same route and found the area around the cathedral cordoned off by police officers. Once home, I found this article. Essentially, a bomb had exploded nearby where I had walked an hour earlier. 

And on that note, I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to seeing police officers walking around in full body armour and carrying assault rifles.

Roads closed because of closed gates - In certain areas of the city, there are peace lines in place. Basically, they're walls that cut off one neighborhood from another. There are some roads that cross these lines, so they have gates on them. Although I've only been blocked by a gate once so far, the potential annoyance is there. I understand the purpose they serve, but man it would be great if they weren't necessary.

I have been told that you can't truly understand the situation in Northern Ireland unless you live there, and after six months here, I have to say that I still question the extent of my understanding. In fact, I'm not even sure if anything I just wrote might be construed as inappropriate or choosing sides.

New Mums

I need to start this post off with a confession...  I wore my socks on the wrong feet last week. Some of my socks have the letters "L" and "R" on them, and for the first time since I bought them who knows how long ago, I did not abide by the letters on my feet. And you know what? It was totally freeing! As my co-workers will readily tell you, I maybe, kinda, sorta am a wee bit OCD about certain things. I just like things to be neat and ordered. Anyway, I wore my socks on the wrong feet and have do so twice more since then.

It's been awhile since my last update. The biggest change since then is that eight new families have started their year at the cottage. It's very exciting to meet the new families. Each family brings a new story and a fun new experience. They each bring with them the hardships that they have faced, but the hope is that with time and a bit of effort, they will learn something from Quaker Cottage or find something in themselves that will bring them back to stability. The previous group that started in October seemed particularly difficult. Some of the mums were (and still are) in a bad place, and they bring that mood with them when they come up the mountain. Despite it being difficult at times to deal with this, I am so glad that they have the opportunity to come to Quakers. Now, the reason I am mentioning the previous group is to illustrate the contrast between them and the new group. The new group is (so far) energetic, garrulous, and flirtatious . You may be asking how I know they're flirty. Ahem....Well, uh....Being that I am the only young male worker that they see at Quakers, it's easy for them to find a target.

Here's the story. It was their first day coming to Quaker Cottage, and I was lucky enough to be driving the bus while we went out to pick everyone up. My supervisor was in the back of the bus in order to chat with them. The first mum we picked up was the protagonist (or antagonist, whichever way you want to see it) of this story. She steps onto the bus, and my supervisor introduces me to her. She gives me a look and proceeds to compliment my smile and say how wonderful it is to meet me. I wasn't thinking too much of it at this point, but my supervisor was. She was the real instigator of it all. She continued to mention me in conversation throughout the rest of the bus ride and telling the mum that she should sit up front beside me. So as fate would have it, the mums did not all fit in the back of the bus (they had their babies with them too), so this mum, who happened to not have any babies with her, had to sit up front. At that point, the mum began the heavy flirting. Among other things, she said, "Well, I have a boyfriend, but I've only been seeing him for like two weeks, so it's not anything serious." Trying to be professional, I just talked to her like I would anyone else, but somehow my being nice came off as returning the flirts. Eventually, I was getting embarrassed because the other mums were a bit clued in on our conversation. It was at this point that I made a huge mistake. Because the back of the bus doesn't have vents, I had the heat blasting and that leaves the front extremely warm. Well, I was just too hot, so I turned to the back and said, "Is everyone warm back there? Because it's getting hot up here!" Instantly, I knew I had dug myself a hole. But it was too late...the words had already come out. My supervisor's response? "Oh, you're hot? Well, I think "Amber" is in heat!"

The next six months will certainly not be dull.

Speaking of six months, I am officially halfway done with my term of service here in NI. Not sure how I feel about that.

I suppose I should talk about the new children too. The babies are fun. Whenever we have a new group start, we have to be extra prepared to deal with crying babies. On that first day, one toddler had fallen asleep on the bus, so when he woke up in a new place surrounded by strangers, it must have been like the whole world had crashed down around him. I have never seen a child cry so violently. He was dry-heaving in between gasps for air and body-shaking sobs. This continued for what felt like an hour but was likely half that long. I was certain he was either going to be sick or pass out from exhaustion. And once one child start crying, the others followed shortly after. Thankfully, they were easier to calm down.

I still haven't met all of the new afterschoolers, but I have met the new preteen group. Here's a quick story from one of the new boys. We had just finished an egg challenge where we wrap up an egg with whatever you can find and then drop it from up high. After unwrapping it and discovering it was still intact, one boy grabbed the egg and, without a thought, smashed it on his head. The kids were all laughing, and the staff stood there in a semi-shocked speechlessness. Yes, what he did was funny, but we see this type of behavior from a different light. This boy is a glutton for attention. He instantly loved me because I am American, and he loves all things American. Does he really love everything about America, or is he trying to find a source of attention from me? He is unable to sit still when we're all having discussions and is continuously cutting into other people's conversations. Basically, his social skills are not where they should be. Through our interactions with him, we can see that something is likely missing from home or school, and just like we do for all of the children, we attempt to help them learn the skills they are missing or need work on while they're with us.


Outside of work, I went on an overnight trip/hike with the Ireland Young Friends group that I have connected with. Although the hike was somewhat disappointing, the time with this group is always good craic. It's like going back to camp.











I went to a park with Becky and Steffi last weekend and saved a bird caught in fishing line. It took ages, and the bird was not a happy chappy. I felt like I was in one of those commercials that shows workers cleaning oil off of coastal birds.

At the Waterworks, a park in Belfast

The sun is shining longer and longer each day finally. It was not so pleasant seeing the sun set around 4:00pm most of the winter. It's also raining less often (at least it seems like it) which means that the sun has a chance to peak out from behind the clouds now and then. 

And lastly, instead of celebrating Fat Tuesday here, they celebrate Pancake Tuesday. As a pancake lover, I can get behind this day of pancake gluttony.

His Brain Wanted to Have

Have you ever had one of those glitch in the matrix moments? You know, when something feels off. Well, I had one of those unsettling moments yesterday whilst watching the Olympics. (Haha...whilst...look how quaint I am!) Ahem...so anyway, I was sitting on the sofa watching ice dancing (which, by the way, is totally awesome), and the camera panned across the crowd. All of a sudden, a photographer came into view, and he was pointing his camera directly at me. For that split second, I was totally unnerved. At that exact moment, I felt myself flinch a bit, and I thought to myself, "Don't take a picture of me!" Once the moment passed, I laughed at myself for few seconds until the same thing happened a second time. It felt like I was looking through a window and that the cameraman was invading my privacy. I lost touch with reality twice in a matter of 30 seconds. OR! I saw the truth behind my perceived reality and I only needed to embrace that moment in order to remove the veil of my existence.....................nah...

On another note, I've been told by a number of people now that I am a very good writer. I don't feel that my writing is spectacular by any means. In fact, I would much rather read another person's writings than my own because I like to experience the deeper thinking and more elaborate descriptions that they put together. There is something so much more refined in the way other people can express themselves that I haven't been able to see in my own writing. My writing seems simple. After a discussion with my momma, I came to the conclusion that perhaps this is not as bad as it first appears. Sure, I don't have a philosopher's tongue. No, I can't always piece words together so eloquently that readers can watch them dance (that was a quick attempt though). Instead, my writing is simple and honest. I try to provide a laugh or two when I can manage to think of something funny, and I just write as if I were talking (except my words don't work so well when I'm talking, so telling stories is much easier this way). All this rambling was a lead in to tell you that my aunt even suggested that I write a book. WELL LET ME TELL YOU! As a matter of fact, I actually did start writing a book years ago, and until recently, I had totally forgotten about it. I can't remember how old I was when I wrote this, but the last time it was saved on my computer I was 13. My working masterpiece takes shape as a children's book about a Native American boy named Ducky. I would like to share it with you all now. tehe! 

Ducky Does It

Ducky was an Indian who was afraid of water. He was very short and couldn’t swim. He lived right next to a river. Ducky was only six years old, and he never went near the river because the water was cold and deep.

A whole year passed without Ducky going near the river. He was seven now and braver. He thought to himself, “I need to stand up to my fear.” So he went down to the river and sat down. After awhile he started to relax. He stood up and walked into the water. “This isn’t so bad,” he thought. Then he tripped over a rock and fell in. He quickly jumped to his feet and ran as fast he could back home.

It was already late in the evening, so Ducky went straight to bed. That night he had a terrifying nightmare. The nightmare was about him falling into the river, trying and trying to swim out, but he just couldn’t.

       That morning he woke up frightened into a cold sweat. The sun was up and as bright as ever. It was a warm day. He went back down to the river. He put his toe into the water, and said to himself,” The water is warm today.” Ducky walked into the water. His brain wanted to have 

 

And that's where I stopped! What a line! "His brain wanted to have..." So many potential things that his brain could have that I couldn't even finish my thought. Silly Andrew... 

Anywho, I think it would be really cool to write a book. I don't know what I would write about, but the challenge that it presents for me is incredibly appealing. One thing is for sure though, I won't be writing a book about a boy named Ducky. 

(Also, I went bowling and scored a 147. Ignore this final thought if you're better than me, and everyone else....Look at that number and be amazed!)