There is more to this Portugi thing than just religion (just religion, as if it isn’t about the only thing I talk about it…) This Portugi in me has some strange ideas about the way the world is and should be; ideas that don’t fit with this world and therefore remove me from it.
This morning I watched Spanglish. Yes, again. My morning movie watching ritual has become a bit redundant as of late, mainly because I have not spent time or money investing in finding something new to watch (a problem I plan to fix by subscribing to netflix).
So this is the quote that got me thinking, "American women, I believe, actually the feel the same as Hispanic women about weight: a desire for the comfort of fullness. And when that desire is suppressed for style and deprivation allowed to rule, dieting, exercising American women become afraid of everything associated with being curvaceous: such as wantonness, lustfulness, sex, food, motherhood; all that is best in life. "
The most odd thing for me is that while I find this quote to be true in the general sense, it is not true as my life. Weight is of utmost concern to my entirely Portuguese Grandfather. He wants us all to be trim, attractive, and fiercely beautiful. He claims that he is concerned for our health, and while I believe that he believes this, I also know that he is at least a little concerned that we won’t be beautiful enough to look at. Although he finds curves to be necessary for childbirth, he wants “thin curves”. I will admit that he has valid reason for the health concerns. PCOD is eating all of us alive. And every one of us has had an eating disorder, or at least an unhealthy weight problem.
Weight on my mother’s side is not a main concern. These women are more concerned with control and strength. The men could care less as long as the women are sassy, sarcastic, and tough. These men never like their women too thin. However, their lack of concern about weight means that eating disorders have never been a problem on this side of the family. These hardworking women are either naturally thin from physical labor, or willing to put in the hard work to lose what they don’t want/what the doctors tell them to lose. Or they will just put up with the weight because life is more important.
Where do I fall on the issue? Well I have PCOD. It is eating me alive. Or rather eating my unborn children… I didn’t eat in 8th or 9th grade, until my mother stepped in and made me. However, I am willing to work hard. I love physical labor. I am all about strength and control. I am unnaturally unconcerned about my size, because my brothers made very sure that I knew at a very young age just exactly how gorgeous I am. However, I do worry that when I walk into my grandfather’s house, the only reason I am his favorite is because obedience is my forte. I want him to know that I am beautiful. I want him to recognize that I have got this disease well on the way to under control. I want him to say to me, “You are looking thinner.” Because I am… but I still need his recognition. Just like every other woman in our family. I am, I think, a Portugi through and through. I want to be like my mother’s family. I want to be like those women… but I am not so much.
I am proud of my Portuguese culture. I cling to it. I define myself by it. But today, I am thinking maybe it’s okay to be a Scot-Irish/Norwegian Portugi instead.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
The Portugi in me
If I ever write a book, this will be it's title.
Speaking with my mother (my boldly Norwegian/Scot-Irish mother) last week, I admitted that if I ever discovered that she had lied to me, that I was not my father's daughter, not in fact Portuguese, I would be strangely stripped of everything I had ever allowed myself to be.
A few years ago, for a Cross Cultural Comm. course at Simpson, I wrote a paper on Iberian Catholicism as different from Scottish Presbyterianism. Basically I wrote a paper on the differences between my father and my mother, respectively.
Today I am worried that the only reason I want to bring peace between the Protestant and Catholic churches, the only reason I wish to teach Protestants that Catholics are not idol-worshippers, and Catholics that Protestants are capable of intellectual faith, is that I want to bring peace to my own soul. Born in me is this fight, this separation, this unnatural state of religion.
I dreamt once that by bringing peace this way, I was bringing a great offering to God, and that for it He would grant me absolution for being born as something unnatural. I wish I had someone to model this journey after... someone who committed to two churches, two lives, two backgrounds, and yet one Faith... so that I would have an example of how to bring people together, to love, and even just to answer the question, "How can you be a Catholic Protestant? or a Protestant Catholic?"... I'm tired of saying, "I'm sorry, I don't know yet. I just know that this is what Jesus has asked of me."
Speaking with my mother (my boldly Norwegian/Scot-Irish mother) last week, I admitted that if I ever discovered that she had lied to me, that I was not my father's daughter, not in fact Portuguese, I would be strangely stripped of everything I had ever allowed myself to be.
A few years ago, for a Cross Cultural Comm. course at Simpson, I wrote a paper on Iberian Catholicism as different from Scottish Presbyterianism. Basically I wrote a paper on the differences between my father and my mother, respectively.
Today I am worried that the only reason I want to bring peace between the Protestant and Catholic churches, the only reason I wish to teach Protestants that Catholics are not idol-worshippers, and Catholics that Protestants are capable of intellectual faith, is that I want to bring peace to my own soul. Born in me is this fight, this separation, this unnatural state of religion.
I dreamt once that by bringing peace this way, I was bringing a great offering to God, and that for it He would grant me absolution for being born as something unnatural. I wish I had someone to model this journey after... someone who committed to two churches, two lives, two backgrounds, and yet one Faith... so that I would have an example of how to bring people together, to love, and even just to answer the question, "How can you be a Catholic Protestant? or a Protestant Catholic?"... I'm tired of saying, "I'm sorry, I don't know yet. I just know that this is what Jesus has asked of me."
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Waiting for Lent
I am an impatient person.
Examples:
I listen to Christmas music every year from October 15th -31st, just because I can't actually wait 12 months for Christmas to come again. I can wait 10. Some years I cheat and also have a tiny Christmas in July.
I always want Spring to come in March. I live in Washington. Spring comes in May.
I always want Autumn to start in August. I live in Washington. August is the beginning (and end) of summer.
I typically am ready for dawn around 5:30. I live in Washington. For only 2 months of the year does dawn come at or before 5:30.
I don't care for red lights. This has nothing to do with living in Washington.
However, the most pertinent and reoccurring example is this: I am always ready for LENT.
I know this may sound weird, but Lent is my favorite. Always has been. Even before I was confirmed, I loved Lent. I think all year about what I will give up. I ponder what I will ponder, what new revelations of Christ I will understand. I hope and pray every year that Lent will be fabulous. Jesus has yet to let me down.
Some Lenten memories from years past:
1996 - My first year celebrating lent (that I remember). I gave up candy with my cousin Sara. I was 11.
2000- I gave up all media. This was also the year I began my tradition of fasting the three days before Easter. I love this tradition. This was the year Jesus taught me that obedience was better than emotion.
2001- Don't remember what I gave up. I do remember learning that my father loved the Lord. This was the first year I had a sin that I thought might actually send me to Hell if I didn't do something about it. This was the year I learned the pain of grace and the peace of forgiveness.
2002- This lent was a joyful lent, which is unusual for me. I love the grey of lent, but this lent was filled with joy in the knowledge of my Saviour's love.
2003- This lent I gave up negative thoughts and words. It was awful. :) I learned to shut my mouth a lot more. and I learned the power of thoughts and how possible it is to control them. This is also the year that I first considered a life of celibacy.
2004- This was a year of complete and utter brokenness. I didn't give anything up this year. I didn't have anything to give. I was dead inside. This was the year Jesus taught me life of soul. Life of community. This was the year I first learned that Jesus is powerful in the living arms of those around me. I learned that I could find His words in the mouths of those who loved Him.
2005- I gave up sugar. I learned the power of failure. This was the first year I attended an Ash Wednesday Service.
2006- This was the year I gave up vanity. No make up, no straightening my hair, no cute clothes... and I wore tennis shoes. I saw that I often loved people from a place of condescension. I loved them because I pitied them, not because they should be loved, not because I needed to love them... or they needed to be loved. I saw ugliness in my soul that I didn't know existed. I also found out that the gorgeous Christ still loved me.
2007- Probably my favorite Lent. The lent that I learned so so so so much. I gave away my TV and lived 40 days in silence in my apartment. Oh wonder of wonders. I had so much time with Jesus it was absolutely insane. I came to a day when I wept because I did not want Him to die for me. He could gladly die for the rest of the world, just not for me. A sweet whisper in my heart said this, "It is done." Oh how those words rent my soul. Those words are still my sweet love song from God. This is also the Lent I decided to join the Catholic Church all of the way through confirmation.
2008- This is the lent I spent going through the final steps of RCIA (rite of christian initiation for adults). This is the lent I gave my first confession. This is the lent where I anticipated the Body of Christ through the Eucharist. This was the lent where my heart finally came home.
Now I am waiting for the Lent of 2009. I don't know what I will give up. I don't know what I will learn. But February 25th could not come soon enough. I'm telling you, it is a beautiful time. I always want to live a monastic life whenever Lent is here.
Lent is a Christmas Miracle.
Examples:
I listen to Christmas music every year from October 15th -31st, just because I can't actually wait 12 months for Christmas to come again. I can wait 10. Some years I cheat and also have a tiny Christmas in July.
I always want Spring to come in March. I live in Washington. Spring comes in May.
I always want Autumn to start in August. I live in Washington. August is the beginning (and end) of summer.
I typically am ready for dawn around 5:30. I live in Washington. For only 2 months of the year does dawn come at or before 5:30.
I don't care for red lights. This has nothing to do with living in Washington.
However, the most pertinent and reoccurring example is this: I am always ready for LENT.
I know this may sound weird, but Lent is my favorite. Always has been. Even before I was confirmed, I loved Lent. I think all year about what I will give up. I ponder what I will ponder, what new revelations of Christ I will understand. I hope and pray every year that Lent will be fabulous. Jesus has yet to let me down.
Some Lenten memories from years past:
1996 - My first year celebrating lent (that I remember). I gave up candy with my cousin Sara. I was 11.
2000- I gave up all media. This was also the year I began my tradition of fasting the three days before Easter. I love this tradition. This was the year Jesus taught me that obedience was better than emotion.
2001- Don't remember what I gave up. I do remember learning that my father loved the Lord. This was the first year I had a sin that I thought might actually send me to Hell if I didn't do something about it. This was the year I learned the pain of grace and the peace of forgiveness.
2002- This lent was a joyful lent, which is unusual for me. I love the grey of lent, but this lent was filled with joy in the knowledge of my Saviour's love.
2003- This lent I gave up negative thoughts and words. It was awful. :) I learned to shut my mouth a lot more. and I learned the power of thoughts and how possible it is to control them. This is also the year that I first considered a life of celibacy.
2004- This was a year of complete and utter brokenness. I didn't give anything up this year. I didn't have anything to give. I was dead inside. This was the year Jesus taught me life of soul. Life of community. This was the year I first learned that Jesus is powerful in the living arms of those around me. I learned that I could find His words in the mouths of those who loved Him.
2005- I gave up sugar. I learned the power of failure. This was the first year I attended an Ash Wednesday Service.
2006- This was the year I gave up vanity. No make up, no straightening my hair, no cute clothes... and I wore tennis shoes. I saw that I often loved people from a place of condescension. I loved them because I pitied them, not because they should be loved, not because I needed to love them... or they needed to be loved. I saw ugliness in my soul that I didn't know existed. I also found out that the gorgeous Christ still loved me.
2007- Probably my favorite Lent. The lent that I learned so so so so much. I gave away my TV and lived 40 days in silence in my apartment. Oh wonder of wonders. I had so much time with Jesus it was absolutely insane. I came to a day when I wept because I did not want Him to die for me. He could gladly die for the rest of the world, just not for me. A sweet whisper in my heart said this, "It is done." Oh how those words rent my soul. Those words are still my sweet love song from God. This is also the Lent I decided to join the Catholic Church all of the way through confirmation.
2008- This is the lent I spent going through the final steps of RCIA (rite of christian initiation for adults). This is the lent I gave my first confession. This is the lent where I anticipated the Body of Christ through the Eucharist. This was the lent where my heart finally came home.
Now I am waiting for the Lent of 2009. I don't know what I will give up. I don't know what I will learn. But February 25th could not come soon enough. I'm telling you, it is a beautiful time. I always want to live a monastic life whenever Lent is here.
Lent is a Christmas Miracle.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
My soul is screaming...
I believe very firmly in gender roles, rites of passages, tradition. I believe very firmly in what should be. I am an idealist. Today this has caused me overwhelming and immense pain. Pain I haven't felt since I was a teenager.
I try extremely hard to put aside those things that classically separate people from each other (age, religion, sexuality, education, etc.) I like people. I like knowing them. I like challenging myself by allowing them to know me. I absolute hate when that goes badly.
I went to dinner with a 75 year old man tonight. I thought I was reaching out, being friends. I should be safe. I should be okay with a man like that. I shouldn't have to guard myself. I am so angry that I can't trust people. I wait and I wait for a person I can trust. I am afraid I am going to become unintelligible right now. That these words will cease to make sense.
Where is my ability to be a person? Where is the justice? Where is the reciprocation? Please... world... let me love you without you making that love dirty.
I try extremely hard to put aside those things that classically separate people from each other (age, religion, sexuality, education, etc.) I like people. I like knowing them. I like challenging myself by allowing them to know me. I absolute hate when that goes badly.
I went to dinner with a 75 year old man tonight. I thought I was reaching out, being friends. I should be safe. I should be okay with a man like that. I shouldn't have to guard myself. I am so angry that I can't trust people. I wait and I wait for a person I can trust. I am afraid I am going to become unintelligible right now. That these words will cease to make sense.
Where is my ability to be a person? Where is the justice? Where is the reciprocation? Please... world... let me love you without you making that love dirty.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Married Priests
Celibacy may very well be one of my favorite things. Granted, I don't believe it is for me, but I find it more than appealing and I have the utmost respect for those who have committed their lives to it.
On that note, I also greatly desire freedom for the Catholic Priesthood, that they may have the choice to celebrate the Sacrament of Marriage. There is a very small population of married priests in our world, for two reasons: 1, they belong to the Eastern Catholic Church, which although under the Pope, holds to many of the Eastern Orthodox traditions, including marriage in the Priesthood; or 2, because they converted to Catholicism after serving as the Pastor of another denomination, and were married before their conversion. The second is the exception and not the rule. This week, the Archdiocese of Seattle welcomed its first married Priest. The man was a Lutheran convert who was "okay'd" by the Pope to serve in the full capacity of Roman Catholic Priest.
I go back and forth on the issue of marriage in the Priesthood. As a Protestant who is confirmed as Catholic, I have seen the beauty of a man devoted only to the Church in the Pulpit, and then in the same day, a married man devoted to both Church and family in the same position. I don't know the answer. I fear that allowing marriage will mean that all of our priests give up the beauty and dedication of Celibacy and the practice will be lost forever. However, freedom to marry and still serve the Church in such a capacity seems beneficial to the entirety of the world congregation.
Either way, I am happy to know that our Diocese has a new priest, one so dedicated to the reunification of the denominations. These are his words..."It has been especially gratifying to be received by people who are coming from very different theological perspectives," he said. "I just rejoice in the gathering for Eucharist with this incredible diversity of people. ... "
On that note, I also greatly desire freedom for the Catholic Priesthood, that they may have the choice to celebrate the Sacrament of Marriage. There is a very small population of married priests in our world, for two reasons: 1, they belong to the Eastern Catholic Church, which although under the Pope, holds to many of the Eastern Orthodox traditions, including marriage in the Priesthood; or 2, because they converted to Catholicism after serving as the Pastor of another denomination, and were married before their conversion. The second is the exception and not the rule. This week, the Archdiocese of Seattle welcomed its first married Priest. The man was a Lutheran convert who was "okay'd" by the Pope to serve in the full capacity of Roman Catholic Priest.
I go back and forth on the issue of marriage in the Priesthood. As a Protestant who is confirmed as Catholic, I have seen the beauty of a man devoted only to the Church in the Pulpit, and then in the same day, a married man devoted to both Church and family in the same position. I don't know the answer. I fear that allowing marriage will mean that all of our priests give up the beauty and dedication of Celibacy and the practice will be lost forever. However, freedom to marry and still serve the Church in such a capacity seems beneficial to the entirety of the world congregation.
Either way, I am happy to know that our Diocese has a new priest, one so dedicated to the reunification of the denominations. These are his words..."It has been especially gratifying to be received by people who are coming from very different theological perspectives," he said. "I just rejoice in the gathering for Eucharist with this incredible diversity of people. ... "
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Bavarian Sugar cookies
"Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true." - Character Kay Eifel played by Emma Thompson, Stranger than Fiction.
I have found something out: I have got to stop living for what I am going to do tomorrow. I am making a complete waste out of today. This is my life now. My life now is not what comes before what I do tomorrow. I do not want to live because of determination. I want to settle into comfort in this world, in this life, in this moment... even though these things are increasingly uncomfortable. This life is a lover of mine. Even though we are fighting right now, and becoming disillusioned, even though my honeymoon with me is over, this committed, known, welcome familiarity of me is a journey I am happy to take.
I have found something out: I have got to stop living for what I am going to do tomorrow. I am making a complete waste out of today. This is my life now. My life now is not what comes before what I do tomorrow. I do not want to live because of determination. I want to settle into comfort in this world, in this life, in this moment... even though these things are increasingly uncomfortable. This life is a lover of mine. Even though we are fighting right now, and becoming disillusioned, even though my honeymoon with me is over, this committed, known, welcome familiarity of me is a journey I am happy to take.
Monday, January 19, 2009
a foggy road
Tonight (this morning) I was driving home in the fog. My windows were frosty and I could only see out the front. The fog was so thick, I couldn't see more than 10 feet in front me. I knew my way, I wasn't scared. But I was alone. There wasn't one car, not one, driving along that road with me. Worse, there was no warm body in my car, sitting with me, keeping me company. I saw the other headlights, going in the other direction, back the way from which I had come. Many of them, together, lighting a way in the fog, in the dark. I could see the green lights before I knew there was an intersection, telling me to continue on. I could feel the bumps when I was drifting unknowingly into another lane. The street lights lit the fog, making it seem almost daylight, but I knew the darkness hung behind those well light and low hanging clouds. The fog thickened. My heart did not race, my adrenaline did not speed up. There was no thrill, no fear, no anticipation. I was unseen, unseeable, unseeing. I came out of the fog and could finally see the road in front of me, but it was a road I knew and I didn't want to go where it was headed. I had to drive it though, because at the end was the resting place necessitated by tomorrow's drive. Tomorrow's drive would be much the same as today's. Maybe not seeing the road was easier. The fog may lift, the road still only heads in one direction for me. I can't turn this car around and drive with those headed back that way. I stopped the car. I turned off the engine. Two tears fell. Did I shed those tears or was that someone else? I locked the car, headed into the house, and now I wonder, will I ever be more than that lone pair of unidentifiable headlights headed in the opposite direction? Will I ever be seen...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)