“Oh, how nice. Yes, community living that
sounds interesting. Focusing your life on spirituality… how beautiful. Yes, I’m
also deeply concerned with social justice... this girl’s on to something here.”
Then I mention simple living. The nodding and commentary stop. The
friend/family/acquaintance says, “Oh, I could never do that.”
Down goes the pillar and down goes the
house. It’s a shame that I have thus far been unsuccessful in my attempts to
explain the beauty and depths of this pillar over small talk because simple living has grown to be my favorite
pillar of JVC.
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| Selfie with a llama in this great ¨live simply¨ hat my even greater brother gave me. Basically a walking add for JVC |
That is because living simply goes far
beyond this world. It’s got a soul and a spirit that I can only pray may
animate my life. I’m obviously still learning, feeling and discovering how to
live simply. I do know that simple
living isn’t just about concrete floors. That’s really good news because
the Jesuits recently put tile floors in our house. As one of the oldest JVC
international houses, our community is working through pros and cons of home
improvements (i.e. structural stability and sustainability of the house and
desires to live like our neighbors). Ultimately, the new floors make me want to
dance around in my bare feet singing, “I’m so fancy” by Iggy Azalea. That’s
what really matters.
I do think that limiting our possessions
and limiting the noise around us (internet, TV, notifications, etc.) helps us
to live simply. When we limit the junk in our lives we have more space to
encounter God and other people. It is important to intentionally strive to live
in solidarity. For some people that means downsizing their possessions to two
suitcases and moving to Peru. (I feel compelled to say here how currently
looking around my room gives me a sense of lightness that my walk-in closet has
never offered.) But we all have our own ways in which we choose to live closer
to our brothers and sisters. The key is to feel and know the responsibility of
living in an interconnected human family.
Although I did leave a bunch of junk in the
United States, I’ve realized that I brought a lot more with me than I
anticipated. I have more simplifying to do. I’m learning to simplify my schedule. We worship our agendas, y’all. Each day is
a gift, so instead of trying to fill my planner I try to take what is given to
me just as it comes. Sometimes that means planning my classes, taking the girls
to a volleyball game, being back in time for a meeting and teaching all
afternoon. Sometimes that means listening to a little girl talk about her dogs
during recess. All is a gift, and there is always time. We live simply when we
give thanks for what is in front of us, and we want for nothing more. We
lack nothing. Simplifying my
schedule also involves simplifying my work. That’s because productivity and the planner go hand-in-hand. United States culture
is very dependent upon on the value of productivity. We equate our personal,
human worth with how much we can produce. In my work this past year, I’ve had
to let go of my need to be productive and lean
in to a ministry of accompaniment. My work is very simple. I teach a few
English classes, lend a hand when needed, and accompany the community here. I
listen. I am present. I am enough. That playground
conversation is just as important as getting all 410 students fluent in
English. Also, I am returning to the USA with more knowledge of pokemon,
yu-gi-oh, and several other cartoon-card games series. This is privileged
information. It is a privilege to sit
and listen to children.
My work is simple, unproductive and
worthwhile. I’m learning to welcome this work and whatever else God gives me with
a gracious heart and willing spirit. This is one of the ways I simplify my desires. In addition to
my culture, I brought my own desires, plans and ambitions with me here. When we
enter into JVC, we enter into a lifestyle. We don’t just take on a service
project. The boundaries of our service aren’t straight and defined. I enter
into every part of my life as a volunteer. Living
a life of service means that I
belong to everyone… everyone by myself. I learn to empty myself. I let go of my
desires and allow myself to be filled with Grace. I’m filled and sustained by
my students’ dreams, my coworkers’ smiles, my community-mates’ support, the
love of God, and hope of the Holy Spirit. Eventually, little by little, with
enough Grace and prayer my desires and God’s become one. I live a life of
service simply because it’s who I am. Living
simply is authentic service.
Learning to sit and listen has helped me to
live simply by loving simply. When I accept the give of each day, I can give to
my brothers and sisters more freely. What greater gift is there than to love
someone simply because she or he is a child of God? Service for me here and now
is not about what I can do. More important than any talent or skill I
possess, are the people I am accompanying. My service is giving others the
freedom to be exactly who God made them to be. I love them. They are more than enough.
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| Molly and I enjoying 15,000 feet on our most recent hike |
When we choose to live simply, we gain
space. There is space for God to enter, and experience Grace. There is room to
live and grow (for us and the people around us). There is freedom to love and be
loved. Living and loving simply means allowing myself to be loved too.
How often do we give ourselves the space to simply be loved? How often do we
feel the liberating reality of just being?
My best friend gave me some good advice recently while hiking: “trust your
feet.” Part of simple being is letting myself alone and trusting my own feet. I
feel the simple life when I manage to stop the internal monologue, the worries
and anxiety and the achievement pressure. In this way, I allow the people
around me and myself to simply be who
we are. We live simply when we give ourselves the space to honor and live out
the divine presence within us. That’s a hard thing to do, what with all that
stuff. We let all these things complicate our lives: the stuff, the schedules,
the work, the obligations, the desires, the insecurities and the fears. But when
we let ourselves alone—when we give ourselves the space—we can live into our goodness. We discover ourselves as beloved
children of God. God
is enough.
