- Its the 16th day of my bday month! #
- Why is it only 11? #
- Why does my blackberry search for a network? #
- My bike is sleek & nimble, ready to fly thru traffic & helping me get thru life! #
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iRobyn|iWitness Culture|iWrite
Analyzing the present "culture conjuncture"--everything is fodder for analysis!
You are currently browsing the daily archive for 16 July, 2008.
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I’m reminded of the tall pine trees of East Texas, the smell wafting in the air as I would head to the car for my day at Catholic School. I was such an odd character there at St. Mary’s; I liked it that way though! I was, of course, one of those trees who stood still in the midst of children who were converting and following suit. I asked questions upon questions; never failing to upset the nuns and principal. For sure, I was a tree who stood still. Call me queer at the age of 6 or 7 when I opted out of making my first communion! I queered my 1st grade experience! Interesting, isn’t it!
Now, as an adult with 2 theology degrees, I’m learning what it means for me to be a tree to stand still. I’m waking up feeling the trees being in different places than the piney woods. It’s more like Lake Michigan where the waves crash up against the sandy dunes/human made beaches and the millions of pieces of sand now are standing still.
I’m learning: learning about the stillness of my breath, the center of my being, the watchfulness of my eye, and the peacefulness of my world. It is, of course, where trees stand still! It’s where cactus leaves bloom in the desert of Texas, where el Río Bravo rages against the limestone making wondrous colors that have no names, and its where Curanderas soothe the soul as you cross every border imaginable. That is where my heart is right now and where my trees are standing still.
Though my feet hit the Midwest concrete each day, my heart traverses the Texas/Mexico border every day; I don’t think a day goes past that I don’t find myself missing it. It’s my home, and I’ll always remember sleeping beneath the stars of Terlingua, TX , where my body straddled the 2 countries, ideologically. Yet, I was in Mexico-both Texas and Mexico! It was nice to spend that time and walk that mixed or Mestiza way, enjoying the surroundings before heading back to San Antonio, TX and starting my junior year of high school and back into the ways of privilege.
What was also nice was that I was free–that nomadic spirit was being birthed. I can see it now! That was a profound summer there on the border. The borderlands/la frontera has always been an important space for me. Certainly, its where trees stand still and where I’m able to hear the whisper of the raven come close, but its also where I’m able to hear the peace of the dove hand me the branch of the Olive beckoning me to move forward, telling me that the prose of life is good and beautiful and true. I’m trying to trust that.
Trees do stand still. It’s the prose of life. I just keep falling into it…

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