Episodes of my podcast series: 99 - a Weekly 9-Minute Spiritual Journey
99

What Life’s Story are You Writing?

This entry is part 1 of 33 in the series 99: a journey

If your life were a story, what would that story be about? Nothing like a deep question to start us off, right? What got me thinking about this is a couple of things. As I record this episode of 99, it is the Jewish season of Pesach – Passover, where it’s customary to have a special meal called a seder, which is really an excuse for a bunch of people to get together over food to tell a particular story, and it was at one of these seders that I came across a little gem that inspired me. Before I do that, though, a reminder that the whole reason for this series (99) comes from Islam. We take one of the 99 names of the divine each week and explore its meaning in our own lives. This week, the name is one of the most famous ones – Ar Rahman. It means endless love. (I know… great song by Lionel Richie and Diana Ross). Ar Rahman includes that kind of endless love, -and- like lots of things in Islam, it’s even more expansive than that. I’ve heard this kind of love described as – get this – a container SO big, that it’s infinite. This name for the divine is said to be written on the very heart of Allah. Imagine an ocean made of love….. now imagine discovering that this ocean is so big, that it doesn’t even have a shore. Expansion. Forever. Cool, right? So back to the Seder. Here’s the quote I came across by Isaac Bashevis Singer: “When a day passes, it is no longer there. What remains of it? Nothing more than a story. If stories weren’t told or books weren’t written, humans would live like the beasts, only for the day.” (now maybe living for the day wouldn’t be so bad after all, but I digress). He goes on, “Reb Zebulun said, ‘Today we live, but by tomorrow, today will be a story. The whole world, all human life, is one long story.’ …To the storyteller yesterday is still here as are the years and the decades gone by. In stories, time does not vanish.’” So back to my original question: If your life were a story, what would that story be about? In the spirit of Ar Rahman, what part does love play in that story? A mother’s love can be this kind. Think of yourself as in the womb, protected, nourished, surrounded by this ocean of compassion. Not all of us have positive associations with mother’s love… if that is true for you, then any caregiver or compassionate presence you’ve ever felt… allow yourself to bathe in that for a moment. Feel its magical, curing power. Where is that in your life? Let me read that quote again, “When a day passes, it is no longer there. Today we live, but by tomorrow, today will be a story…. All human life, is one long story.” This is both the tragedy and the beauty of being human. Our whole life is a series of todays…. Of “right nows.” Of “this moments.” You’ve made the choice to invest in yourself by joining me right now, so you already know you care. No matter what story has already been written in your life, here you are. You’re writing this little chapter into it. What other chapters do you want to include in your story? When tomorrow comes, what do you want today to be about? One more thing. In spirit of Ar Rahman – this infinite loving presence – you are that. There is this infinite loving presence in you and in everyone else… yes… even aunt Becky. Or all kidding aside, even in the person you can’t stand…. Or can’t understand. Now com + passion means literally, “to suffer with.” Like another great song says, “We all need somebody to lean on.”   Or we need someone to be with us when we’re suffering. You have the chance today to write that into your own story. Who can you be there with that could use it? The guy on the corner asking for change? How much do you really know about him? What if you bought a couple of sandwiches or coffees and came back and shared one with him while you talk for a minute? Or what about Aunt Becky (I don’t know who Aunt Becky is, or why I’m picking on her) but seriously – what if you call that person who is probably lonely or who you haven’t said “I’m sorry” to? If all this seems like too much, then maybe you’re the one who is suffering. If that’s the case, this may sound silly, but I see you. Just rest. Know that you are loved. Know that Ar Rahman says that even more than lov-ed, you ARE l-o-v-e.  You. Are. Love. No matter what you’ve been through, no matter what the story that your life has written so far. Part of that story has always been love – and will always be love. Just call on me brother, when you need a hand, we all need somebody to lean on. I just might have a problem that you’d understand… If your life were a story, what would that story be about? I know one part of that story. And I can’t wait to hear what else you decide to include. Series NavigationHow to Care for Your Soul >>

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99

How to Care for Your Soul

This entry is part 2 of 33 in the series 99: a journey

Do you have one of those people in your life who will sit you down when you need it? I didn’t think I did until one day, he sat me down and said, “Andy, in Spanish, we have this saying called Cura da Alma…. care of the soul. How are you caring for your soul?” If anyone else had asked me this, I would have gotten kind of offended. “How do you know we even have souls?!” or “that’s none of your business, thank you very much.” Instead, I knew right away what he meant. Because in that moment, he was doing it. He was caring for me in a way that bypassed all the defenses and excuses and b.s. and went straight to the soul of the matter. This week, we’re starting from the Arabic word Ya- Muqit, which in Islam means the quality of the Divine that makes sure we get the sustenance we need. It’s a sort of practical sustenance, though… not foofy or extravagant. One of the other meanings of the word’s root means the fat in the camel’s hump… which is where they store up energy that allows them to be so self-sufficient in harsh climates. This theme is about sustenance… something I talk about quite a bit. Well, it deserves all this attention because it’s really what helps us survive. Phyiscally, our bodies need nourishment with decent sustenance. Sure, a trip to the donut shop is tasty (and I’m a big fan of donut shops), but we both know that isn’t sustenance. You eat like that regularly, you begin to live with a body that is perpetually unwell. What my mentor was saying was akin to that. If you live your life habitually feeding your soul with junk, you will get soul-sick. Are you getting stuck on the word “soul”? I get it. I’m talking about that part of you that makes you ….. You… The part of someone that goes away when they die. You know… how we can have a funeral and bury a person’s body and all, but really, that isn’t the person. The actual “person” is already gone before we bury them. That. That part of you. Now I’m going to go on a bit of a tangent here. How do you feel about the word “Religion”? What does it conjure up for you? Is it about buildings and power structures and rules and someone telling you what to do? This is where I think we can cheat ourselves. Religion means literally “to re-bind” ourselves. Re: as in “to do over and over” (Like the insructions on the back of the shampoo bottle – you know – “lather, rinse, and repeat”…. it’s the same root – “re” – “to do again” and “ligio” which means “to tie” or “to bind” Like in ligament or if you watch crime shows, you’re heard the word “ligature” which means something used to tie… So Re-Ligion – to to tie ourselves or to bind ourselves to something over and over. Thinking about it this way, I would go so far as to say that everyone has a religion. Everyone binds themselves to SOMETHING. What is YOUR religion? To what have you bound yourself? Is your family your religion? Is work your religion? Is money your religion? Here’s a quote by Radhanath Swami: Religion is meant to teach us true spiritual human character. It is meant for self-transformation. It is meant to transform anxiety into peace, arrogance into humility, envy into compassion, to awaken the pure soul in man and his love for the Source, which is God. Now in some ways, it doesn’t matter what you believe about the nature of existence. What does matter is that we choose mindfully. The question isn’t so much WHETHER religion is right for you…. it is “WHAT religion  have you chosen – and is that the right one for you? I think the reason my mentor sat me down that day was exactly this—he could see that my religion had shifted toward discomfort or struggle. I had made a spiritual practice out of noticing when something made me uncomfortable and then exploring that discomfort by walking straight into it. While this has made me strong in many ways (it’s like a continual spiritual workout or maybe crossfit of the soul), he could see that I had taken it from a spiritual practice and had begun to bind myself to it. Spending time at the gym is a good thing, but spending 24/7 at the gym and never resting begins to cause problems. It begins to wear you down. So this is me sitting YOU down, lovingly. Imagine yourself in a quiet, comfortable place, and someone who cares about you very much asking you that question. Friend, what are you doing for cura da alma? How are you caring for your soul? It’s good to challenge yourself if you’ve grown too comfortable or lazy spiritually. If you are too UNcomfortable spiritually, if you beat yourself up, or if being around unkind or abusive people is your religion—I invite you to find a place of rest. I wonder what this brings up for you. If you feel like it, drop me a line at my website and share what your non-traditional religion is. To what beliefs or habits have you tied yourself? Where can you go for Cura da Alma? Part of my own care of the soul is right here. Sharing with you every week. Thank you for that. Series Navigation<< What Life’s Story are You Writing?The One Thing to Remember when Life Gets Tough >>

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99

The One Thing to Remember when Life Gets Tough

This entry is part 3 of 33 in the series 99: a journey

Think of a time you felt aware of your good fortune – or of being given a gift. I don’t mean aware, like “oh, someone just handed me this gift and so I’m aware of it.” I mean the kind of awareness that pervades your whole being. As if you’re a sponge and you’re drinking up this warm, sweet water that permeates you every. which. way. Get me? Sometimes I like to poke fun at abundance thinking… as if all I have to do is picture success and it’ll happen – kind of like the character Harold Hill in The Music Man – you know, a con man – if a lovable one. But this week’s topic, based off the divine name Ya-Majid, is all about divine super-abundance. It’s about both being blessed with a gift – AND – this full-body sense of awareness of that blessing. What if we take a moment to drop into that feeling? I think of it as a feeling of awe or wonder – maybe when I see a newborn puppy or a baby… Or maybe the kind of wonder I’ve felt on a perfect summer night, looking up at the night sky and realizing the impossible vastness of the universe – and the equally impossible fact that I’m somehow a part of it. The soft grass on my skin, the honeysuckle smell in the air… your whole body is telling you that the world was made for you. (Focusing on the feeling. The warm, sweet water that pleasantly soaks through your whole self.) (coming back now)…. That’s nice, isn’t it? What always makes me wonder, is why I forget that feeling. Of course I forget it when there’s a crisis -one of those life’s moments where your whole world shifts under your feet. But even in the everyday… School, work, chores, just life happening. We forget the sweetness and the abundance. In fact, we’re encouraged to forget… if I am too satisfied, then I don’t need to buy the new barbeque grill, or the vacation package, or the Netflix subscription. I’m supposed to want to work harder at a job I might not like so I can buy more things to fill a house I bought to impress people who really don’t care. (ehem…) Wait… that’s not abundant thinking, is it? Whether it’s some catastrophe or whether it’s just the day to day humdrum numbness that hypnotizes us so that we sleepalk through years or entire decades…. we can forget to allow ourselves to notice –  the abundance that Ya Majid is talking about. But there is redemption, my friend. Any time we want it. We only have to wake up and ask for it. Here’s a quattrain by Omar Khayyam, the Persian Poet: “Come, fill the cup, and in the fire of spring Your winter garment of repentance fling. The bird of time has but a little way To flutter – and the bird is on the wing.” I remember a time when I was sleepwalking through life. I was driving 45 minutes each way to a job much like the one I just mentioned. Caught in rush hour traffic, I was tense and brittle-feeling, creeping forward through this traffic jam, I finally rounded a corner far enough to see the Cincinnati skyline open up in front of me. The sun was just coming up, and something magical happened. As I sat there with my knuckles white from clenching the steering wheel so hard with frustration, my breath caught in my throat. I was at first irritated that I’d forgotten my sunglasses and couldn’t see through the glare on the windshield. Then something took over and before I knew it, I had pulled onto the shoulder, then off onto the grass beside it. I turned the car off completely and got out. The sun was illuminating the whole valley. The Ohio river wandered like a ribbon under the five bridges connecting Cincinnati with Kentucky. I felt like I could see everything in incredible detail – from horizon to horizon. The anger melted away and I started to cry. I was sitting on the hood of my car, tears streaming down my face, and a feeling of pure unadulterated joy and gratitude coursing through me. Where is your own joy? Look around you and notice all the abundance in your life? Can’t see it? Look harder. I promise you it’s there. If you’re going through a tough time, I’m with you. Know that you are not alone. Your suffering matters, and is so real, and completely valid. And. Don’t waste the suffering. One of the things suffering does is expand us – like the hand of a potter stretches the wet clay on the wheel and turns it into a container. That stretching is painful. And it’s what increases our capacity for the other. The sunrises, and the babies, and the full-body hunger of new love, and the sweetness of holding hands after 50 years together. And of ice cream, and music, and on, and on, and on. My friend, be a sponge. Wring out whatever is in there, and allow yourself to experience the abundance flooding back in. Be swept away, if only for a moment. This life is many things. And one of them is pure sweetness. Series Navigation<< How to Care for Your SoulWake Up to the Abundance All Around You! >>

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99

Wake Up to the Abundance All Around You!

This entry is part 4 of 33 in the series 99: a journey

The bounty of the harvest can be seen at the bottom of the well. This is an adage I found in a Sufi book I consult often called, “Physicians of the Heart.” This week we’re exploring bounty or abundance of gifts. Where does it come from? Do you work hard? Do you TRY hard? What about the times when you’ve been successful in life and things seem easy? What about the times when things HAVEN’T seemed easy, even though you’re working as hard as ever? The abundance of the harvest can be seen at the bottom of the well. Let’s unpack this a little. What I think this bit of wisdom is saying is that there is hope for us… if we work to bring the water from the bottom of the well to the surface, and then we use it to water the soil in the garden we’ve prepared and planted, then eventually that garden – or those date palms – will grow and bear fruit. At the end of this little line of reasoning, we’re able to pick the dates and enjoy their sweetness as our reward. Now in Sufism, which comes from Islam (depending on who you ask), one of the practices I’ve learned about from my own teacher is called Dhikr. It’s a sort of meditative practice usually done in a group that involves singing and dancing along with specific words that are being repeated over and over and over. The word will be repeated dozens or even hundreds of times so that after a while, you kind of lose yourself in it. Now I’m not Sufi or Muslim, so take this with a grain of salt, but in my experience, single words in Arabic hold massive amounts of meaning – whole paragraphs and even books of information can be contained in even a single syllable. So if you take a word like the one that inspires this episode- Razzaq, which means “The one who gives us the gifts we need to earn our own keep” – and you make a Dhikr out of that word, saying it over and over for a few minutes or longer, this can become a beautiful meditation on abundance.  I love this name of the Divine – Ar Razzaq – because it’s quality – the gift giver is exactly what I need and long for. I am able-bodied, gratefully, and have been given lots of gifts over my life… experiences and skills I’ve picked up along the way. What I love more than anything is to find a match – someone who needs what I have to offer. That perfect balanced relationship… I’m given rewards -money in this case in gratitude for my gifts. In return, I use my skills and my time, my experience, etc, to do something useful… Kind of like taking the water from that well and using it to water a garden, then selling the harvest to earn what I need to live. What about when things don’t work out, though? Are you enjoying the fruits of your work? Do you feel appreciated? Paid fairly? I have a friend that says they’re paid too much. They admit feeling guilty sometimes because there are so many people who don’t have enough to get by on, yet this person – who works very hard, mind you – makes quite a bit of money. Here is a quote from New Thought author Michael Beckwith: “There is a lie that acts like a virus within the mind of humanity. And that lie is, ‘There’s not enough good to go around. There’s lack, and there’s limitation, and there’s just not enough.’ The truth is that there’s more than enough good to go around. There is more than enough creative ideas. There is more than enough power. There is more than enough love. There’s more than enough joy. All of this begins to come through a mind that is aware of its own infinite nature. There is enough for everyone. If you believe it, if you can see it, if you act from it, it will show up for you. That’s the truth.” Now, to be fair, try saying that to a hungry child – or to one of the patients I meet doing interfaith Chaplaincy at the hospital. It’s important to acknowledge that there is suffering. There is injustice and there are people who simply can’t get enough –  water from that well. or some folks aren’t allowed to keep enough of the harvest they worked to make possible. Having said that. Do you have faith? Faith in what? or Who? If so, how does it sustain you when it seems like that harvest will never come? I have a theory that people pray when things are bleak and scary, but when things are plentiful, not so much.  I know I do this. What would it be like to pray or give thanks when things are good? What would it be like to wake up in the morning and take a moment to scan your body from head to foot and feel wonder at all the things that have to happen JUST for you to wake up for another day? Will you join me in a practice of gratitude this week? Each day, I’ll be looking for one thing in my life that just works. Food on the table, friends that look forward to hearing from me, you listening to this. The bounty of the dates can be seen at the bottom of the well. My friend, may we both remember to see that bounty before we complain about how much work it is to lift that water to the surface. Series Navigation<< The One Thing to Remember when Life Gets ToughRediscovering God through Your Desire >>

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Recent Episodes of my Podcast. Interviews, random musings.

2018 Election Season Special: How to get what you want

This is a special election season edition of Prolificate. Where I talk about finding everyday spirituality in our lives.  Whatever your job, whatever your life experience, whatever you hope for the world to be, I want to offer you a moment of peace and perspective. Are you angry?  Do you want some things to change? Do you want some things to stay the same? Of course you do. I do too. If we want to change things – or we want to preserve things – or both – let’s remember that the way we can reach our goal is by convincing others. What’s the way to convince someone else? It isn’t with anger.  Think about it… when was the last time you changed your mind because someone screamed at you loudly enough?  Your goal is your goal.  Anger is just energy, but it can be addictive.. When that happens, it gets in the way. Take a moment to slow down here.  Close your eyes if you want and let’s breathe together two times as I count… Just trust me. From way down in your belly, breathe in for 4, hold, then out for 7 ready?  In 2, 3, 4 Hold 2, 3 Out 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 One more In 2, 3, 4 Hold 2, 3 Out 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7Come with me for just a moment.  Imagine…. You’re standing in a clearing facing a group of people. You feel hot. Flushed. Angry.  The people look angry as well. They’re frowning at you. Jostling each other.  In your hand is a coal. It’s glowing red…. So hot, it’s burning your skin.  That burning is getting more and more intense…. You squeeze your hand tighter around the coal. Something is controlling your hand and you can’t let go of the coal…. Every time you try it just gets worse.  You wish you could throw the coal at the people.  Hotter.  You wish you could plunge your hand in some cold water but there’s none around. Hotter. Burning. One of the people from the crowd steps forward toward you.  Just as you start to become afraid, you realize that they are holding a pan of water and are offering it to you. You still feel anger and also gratitude. Plunging your hand into the water, the coal begins to get darker and cool. It’s warm now, not hurting.  You suddenly notice that the other person looks sick and pale. They’re holding up their other hand – which had been hidden.  In it is a coal – fiery red and burning their skin. You offer them the pan of water and they plunge their hand into it. Feel your sympathy and understanding. You know that pain. You’ve both felt the hot burning energy of those coals.  Feel the thanks and gratitude coming from the other person. Witness their anger – still there but subsiding… Your coal is still there. Still warm, but you’re not alone with it now. Together with this new person, you turn to look at the crowd. See the way their faces look sick and pale. Notice the coals they’re all carrying. Walk with your partner now toward the crowd.  Carrying the water that you will offer them. Breathing exercise…. Coming back to this place. My friend, you are important.  The things you want are important. Remember that you live in community – whether we like it or not, we are connected to each other in some way. I may want you to change your mind.  You may want me to change mine.  Neither of us will do it with the out-of-control fire of anger alone.  Honor that anger you feel, and also remember mine.  May we offer water to each other as well.  Friends, we are connected, like it or not.   The only way for me to convince you – is to be willing to be convinced myself. May we all be brave enough to remember.  In kindness, please share this and repeat as necessary. 

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Ali Boone, Spiritual Entrepreneur
Podcast
Andrew

Meet Ali Boone – Spiritual Engineer and Real Estate Investor

I had the pleasure of interviewing a real dynamo this week. Ali Boone is a serial achiever. With a background in aerospace engineering and real estate investing, Ali’s life path has been pretty impressive when viewed from the outside.  What was more impressive to me is what’s going on inside. While it may look like she is slowing down (going from working hard for someone else in the corporate world to working hard for herself as an entrepreneur, Ali embraced Lifestyle Design. Though she often works from an RV at the beach and travels more, she isn’t working less these days. It just looks different.   “I was absolutely in love, but I had no idea how to actually experience that—how to be with that feeling.” Ali Boone Have a listen as she shares the hard, soul-searching and internal work she is doing now spiritually. My favorite part may have been when I asked her what scared her. You can follow Ali on Instagram, Twitter, or at Aliboone.com

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Meet Ebony Janice: What I Learned about White Supremacy Culture

This summer, I had the privilege of meeting a visionary. Ebony Janice is self-described Womanist, Scholar, Activist, Teacher, Author, Student, Artist, Preacher, Transformational Speaker, Content Creator, Healer.  More than just self-described, I can attest that those labels don’t begin to capture the energy, conviction, and what I would describe as a fierce joy radiating from this woman. Ebony Janice makes it known to anyone who cares to listen that *we* as a society are missing out on something transformational. Black women—specifically black women’s, voices, bodies, and spirit in the center of our cultural conversation. As a white man, I make no apologies for who I am—and—I’m coming to notice more and more how our culture centers my male-ness, my whiteness specifically. What if there were a hidden cost to doing that?  Now the cost isn’t all that hidden if you aren’t white, straight, male, etc., so please forgive me if that’s you. But if you are white, straight, male, etc., you’re missing out. WE’RE missing out and suffering in our own way by living in a system that got us here the backs of others, then lauds us for how hard we’ve worked and how high we’ve climbed, as if we’ve done it alone. If you’re white, yes, of course your (our) hard work counts. Yes, you’ve (we’ve) suffered and overcome, and gotten raw deals, and all of that. Congratulations and thank you for everything you do. Seriously. I know lots of you and you’re pretty damned amazing.  And There are plenty of folks who work hard too. There are plenty of folks who’ve suffered, who’ve spent a lifetime getting up early, working late, and doing the right thing—and who will never get the chances you (and I) have because of who we are.  *This is white supremacy culture.* It isn’t about overt hate and KKK outfits and angry racists…. Yes, that’s a problem, but not what I’m talking about. No shame here. You and I didn’t ask for this privilege. This conversation with Ebony Janice, though, wasn’t about shame. It was about joy, humility, and a spirit that cannot and will not be stopped. If you’re even a little curious to know about all of this, I got uncomfortable for you so we could both delve into this. Give a listen. Kindly, AC p.s. Also mentioned in this interview is another visionary Akilah S. Richards of Fare of the Free Child podcast and Raising Free People.  p.p.s. At ~ 29:00 EbonyJanice and I go right to the heart of the matter — though the whole conversation was amazing and full of so much learning.

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Blog Posts and other special features
Nikki Haley
Blog
Andy

Race & Ethnicity: our Favorite Fairytales

This entry is part 3 of 5 in the series Immigration

What is race? What is ethnicity? The photo above provides the perfect opening to this story. Is the woman in the photo White? Latina? Middle Eastern? If you don’t know her, her name is Nimrata Randhawa, now known as “Nikki” Haley — daughter of Sikh immigrants from India and U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations. Ms. Haley is considered by some to be the consummate American success story—self-made, politically conservative, and white. If we look deeper, though, the things we tell ourselves about race and ethnicity aren’t quite so neat and tidy.  Photo credit: Wikipedia As before in this series, I am curious about both the apparent stories as well as the hidden ones. As I sit with the questions above, I can feel myself heading down one of two paths. Having to decide, I am reminded of words from the sage and prophet Yogi Berra who once said, “When you come to a fork in the road, you should take it.” And so, not being sure what that actually means, I will attempt to explore both paths. Everyone knows what race is, right? Race is the part of humans that makes us different from each other… but different in a group. Black is an example of a race. Members of the black race share certain traits like skin color, eye color, texture of hair, and athletic ability. Wait. That’s actually not true. Those are just traits that come to mind immediately because they’re part of the surface story. Digressing for a moment, this is why I have come to view surface stories with suspicion – or at least not be lazy and do the work needed to make a decision. Black, White, Asian – all are stories more than they are races. If I take a moment to look beyond the surface story, I know that the hidden story (or not-so-hidden, actually) is that there is no reliable definition of any race. In fact, hair and eye color, and skin and physical characteristics are more accurately called phenotype and even within what some might call a race, there are many different phenotypes. Being lazy lets me classify people by race. The moment I cease being lazy, though, and start exploring those classifications, I see how they begin to fall apart. Is a person with dark skin black? What about a person with light brown skin? What effect does the language they speak have? Are they still black if they speak English with a British accent? If they speak Spanish? If they speak Japanese? Is a person with light skin white? How light does the skin have to be? What about a person with a skin condition that makes their skin light, but they have curly hair and a broad nose? At one time, the Irish ancestors I almost certainly have weren’t considered white. Now they are. Which is correct? Paraphrased from Dictionary.com: race noun a socially constructed category of identification based on physical characteristics, ancestry, historical affiliation, or shared culture: What about ethnicity? ethnicity [eth-nis-i-tee] noun, plural ethnicities. an ethnic group; a social group that shares a common and distinctive culture, religion, language, or the like ethnic traits, background, allegiance, or association: Reading the above definitions, I sense some ambiguity and overlap. That’s because race isn’t real. Race is a story – a narrative – constructed and told by human beings with different motivations and needs over time. What becomes interesting is when we start to confuse these stories. Immigration does that. When entire groups of people move from one culture to another, they often disrupt the narratives that worked so comfortably before. Dominicans who migrate to New York offer an example of this. Are they Black? Are they Hispanic? If they happen to speak English and have light skin tone, does that mean they are White? The needs of the original societies (pre-immigration) produced some narratives. It is those needs that interest me more than the narratives. Do we need to belong to a group? Why? What is it about being human that puts us in need of relationship? In order to belong to a group – something I can call “us” – there must be a “not us,” no? In religious studies, we call this approach apophasis – defining God in terms of what God is not. By establishing that God is not cruel, or not male, or not weak, I begin to get a picture of what remains and therefore must be God. In similar apophatic terms, I offer that race is one way to tell a story about who is not us so that we can get to the business of creating a story about who is us. To understand complicated narratives like race and ethnicity, we have to begin by understanding the characters in them. Race and ethnicity are ready-made stories that provide a sort of framework into which I can insert myself and try to make sense of the world. The danger, is that those ready-made stories are deeply flawed and cause more problems than they solve. What if there were a way to make sense of the world some other way? In the next installment, we’ll explore another concept that trys to do that, and is also fraught with as much uncertainty. Religion. Series Navigation<< Immigrant or expat? It’s about power.Why do Immigrants bring their religion with them? >>

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Blog
Andy

Immigrant or expat? It’s about power.

This entry is part 2 of 5 in the series Immigration

Immigration Series: Part II In the previous post, I talked about the word immigrant as a label for people who move into a country or place. Like all language, ours contains subtlety and nuance. Use of the word immigrant, though it may seem straightforward, implies a certain set of assumptions though, no? Hearing a sentence like: “Jessica was interested in issues of immigrant rights” or “The immigrants came and took our jobs,” one can pretty readily make certain guesses about context – about what kind of person Jessica might be, or what the worldview of the person making the second statement might be. As I mentioned in the previous post, I love a good hidden story. What one sees on the surface might be interesting or a curiosity, but looking deeper is where one finds the thrilling, the motivating, and the real story – the hidden one. In this case, I want to talk about power. Who has it? What are they doing with it? How does power influence or color or shade the ways that people perceive the world? I offer one word for your consideration: Expat. Expatriate. Wait, does that count as two words? Never mind. I, the author, having control of this particular narrative, can do whatever I damned-well please and I say it is one word. See there? It’s about power. expatriate adjective (ɛksˈpætrɪɪt ; -ˌeɪt) resident in a foreign country exiled or banished from one’s native country: an expatriate American noun (ɛksˈpætrɪɪt ; -ˌeɪt) a person who lives in a foreign country Do you know what the difference between an expat and an immigrant is? immigrant noun [im-i-gruh nt] a person who migrates to another country, usually for permanent residence. an organism found in a new habitat. adjective of or relating to immigrants and immigration: a department for immigrant affairs. As decided unilaterally by me, an expat is white, speaks English as a primary language, and has (or is assumed to have) a certain amount of wealth at his disposal (yes, I used the masculine because an expat is likely a man). Expat (or expatriate) is a label one might choose for oneself to connote privilege – to imply a degree of choice in one’s situation. An immigrant is likely brown (or other-than-white) skinned, speaks a non-English primary language, is presumed to have less money and therefore less choice about where to live. As you see from the definitions above (gleaned from the academically rigorous dictionary.com), an immigrant can also be an organism found in a new habitat. I’m unaware of any expat organisms, but there must be some in existence. They’re likely multi-celled complex organisms, highly-evolved, and Harvard, Yale, or Cambridge-educated, as opposed to the single-celled, more helpless types found in immigrant organism communities. Because I love a good hidden story, I have particularly enjoyed unpacking these particulars, as I do find the nuance of language useful (if painful). Power, the hidden story behind this post has such an impact on the ways we view the immigrant narrative. At this point in human history on earth, power is fairly concentrated in the hands of a relative few people. Whatever you think is the intent behind that concentration, its effect has been to characterize the world in a hierarchy of wealth & privilege with countries in the Global North – and particularly the North Atlantic at the top. As those powers fought each other for primacy, they colonized the rest of the world. A meta-narrative emerged to support this system – this way of seeing the world, and we are the living legacy of that colonization. The narrative is still in place, serving as a kind of lens through which we experience the world and our global culture is deeply influenced by it. As I write this, I find myself wondering if (or how) this narrative serves us. Was it useful at one time to assume that there should be this hierarchy of wealth and privilege? Is it useful today? Are there other narratives in which power plays a different role – and how might different narratives serve us? Though I sometimes (attempt to) use humor as a tool because I believe that stories are like bread – they need leavening, there is nothing funny about human suffering. Any time someone has power over, then it is incumbent upon that person to use care in exercise of that power. May we be mindful of the ways in which we have power over someone. May we use that power in service of those without it. As I sit with questions of power from this week, my mind looks ahead to two more concepts: Race and ethnicity. Series Navigation<< “Immigrant”: What’s in a name?Race & Ethnicity: our Favorite Fairytales >>

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Andy

“Immigrant”: What’s in a name?

This entry is part 1 of 5 in the series Immigration

This is the first in a 5-part series about immigration: the issue, and the very real human stories behind that issue. Inspired by work in a course called Promised Lands and Immigrants for my Master of Divinity degree at Starr King School for Ministry, I wanted to engage further with this subject. Today, I’d like to unpack the basics. I’ll explore why we choose to use the label immigrant. After all, who exactly is an immigrant but a person who chooses (or is forced) to relocate from one place *into* another. I use the awkward phrasing *into* because immigrant translates from the Latin meaning specifically “to move (migrate) in” to a place. Thinking in terms of who might assign this label to someone (and why) can become an enlightening exercise. Explicitly speaking, someone could call themselves an immigrant, though at least in the United States, one would be hard-pressed to imagine this happening. If I moved from Hungary to the U.S., I could imagine thinking of myself as a dozen things: a Hungarian, a European, a poet, a husband, or a doctor, but “immigrant?” Probably not. Implicitly speaking, though, we begin to understand the multiple layers at play here. While someone may be technically an immigrant, there is likely little motivation for them to think of themselves as such. It’s more likely that someone in the host society – on the receiving end of this move between countries or cultures – would use a word like immigrant to categorize a person. When we use labels for people, it makes it easier for us to make sense of the world. The world is complicated, right? My human brain needs to know if someone is a friend or foe, if they represent competition for scarce resources like food or jobs. I want to know if they are the much-needed help I’ve been desperate for if there aren’t enough hands to do the work that needs to be done. Emigrants are leaving. Immigrants are coming. What is of less concern is that both are people. People emigrating. People immigrating. What’s interesting to me is the hidden story. Why do we need words like immigrant? We already have words for people. Why not just use names? (Bill is moving here, or Oichi is coming) or labels like families, or Catholics, or farmers? The obvious story is that there must be something significant about the combination of a 1) person doing this 2): thing – moving between cultures – that is SO SIGNIFICANT that it becomes important to identify them solely in terms of what they are doing. Can you think of a time when you have been labeled by someone in these terms (by an action you have taken, or a choice you have made)? Have you been a conscientious objector? A voter? A volunteer? Perhaps the most common example I can think of is associating our label – our identity – with our work. I am a banker, or a landscaper, for instance. Those are often self-assigned labels, chosen for whatever reason, but typically ones that provide some positive sense of identity. What fascinates me is this notion that immigrant is a label often assigned by someone else. Labels: They help us understand the world in terms of our personal narrative – a story we each tell ourselves about how the world works and why things are the way they are. There is also a larger meta-narrative that is woven together into a tapestry we call culture.The issue of who controls that meta-narrative depends on who has the power in a given situation. It is that power dynamic that we will talk about next. For now, I hope I have given you some food for thought and questioning – if only a little – about labels, about the human desires that cause us to move ourselves great distances and at great hardship, and about power – who has it, how is it being used, and what effect that has on us all. Behind the obvious story is often a hidden one. Series NavigationImmigrant or expat? It’s about power. >>

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“So, what do you do?” I HATE that question…Or do I love it?

  I just quit my job. A perfectly good one. In fact, a really great one for a really great company. See, every five or so years, I do this. I change jobs. Like clockwork. When I was in my teens and twenties (a hundred years ago), the job would usually change FOR me (I would get fired). More recently, I’ve learned to recognize when something isn’t the right fit anymore and I move on before I wear out my welcome. I haven’t always known why, but I have always moved through experiences like chapters in a book. Like clockwork, I’ve found my next something and taken to it with all the passion of a new lover — eager to learn how this new skill or experience smells and tastes; what makes it unique and special. Because of my insatiable thirst for learning a new something, I have found myself often looking for a master under which to apprentice, and then immersing completely in that new something –– drinking in every detail, and asking whyuntil one or both of us were exhausted by teaching & learning. This process feels familiar each time, yet exciting and new as I progress from eager student to apprentice to journeyman. Sometimes I make it to expert. Most times I don’t. One thing is certain though: If I stay beyond this point, I begin to get anxious and feel like I am in a rut. An increasingly insistent inner voice keeps saying that there are other topics to absorb and life is fleeting. If I stay too long, I find myself casting longing glances over the shoulder of my chosen somethingat another seemingly more alluring one. Every time, though, I’ve come away enriched by these experiences. Twenty years ago, I was worried that there was something wrong with me. Fast forward to today and I understand that there’s nothing wrong, its just that I’m not cut out to specializein one thing. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m good at all kinds of things. There’s a good chance that you are too – if you’re a Polymath. This is a new term to me, but it means someone who is good at many things. [Greek: poly (many) + manthanein (to learn)]. It is important to note that there is always someone smarter than the Polymath at a given subject. The specialistis the other extreme – spending long periods of time, sometimes an entire life – developing and curating a deep knowledge of a given discipline. I have the ultimate respect for specialists. They are what I can never be. Let me try to provide you some color and context: I can write fairly well, though I have lots to learn. I can communicate — REALLY connect — with a ridiculously wide array of people. I learn languages (and even accents) well. I love to learn. I love to immerse myself in new experiences and imagine what it must be like to live someone else’s existence, yet make it myexistence. I learned, or taught myself how to setup and maintain computer networks, write code for websites, pick locks, crack safes, and decipher complex financial statements. I learned how to weld, how to do plumbing and electrical work. I can coach and motivate teams of highly successful salespeople, rappel down the face of a cliff, sail a sloop, and rebuild a car engine. I qualified as an expert marksman with my M16A2 assault rifle and can shear sheep pretty well. Because I’ve tried to exist and conform in a society that expects you to specialize in something (remember that cocktail party question: So, what do you do?),I’ve stayed in and around business and finance for the better part of 20 years. As a result, my disparate collection of knowledge lines up heavily around subjects like finance, organizational development, strategy, and finding efficiencies in operations. Back to the I just quit my job part. One other thing I’ve always been comfortable with is risk. It’s not that I have a masochistic need to inflict poor credit ratings and ramen noodles on myself. Quite the contrary. I always hope for the best each time I take a leap of faith out the nearest window. I’ve mostly been rewarded with positive results, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t scary. Part of this particular leap of faith is writing a book about what I’ve learned – at least in the context of how to help you turn dreaming into doing(I don’t suppose there’s a huge audience awaiting my book about sheep shearing!). In this process, I hope to start conversations and make connections that lead to the next chapter on my path. Is your idea part of that path? I look forward to learning more about the concept of the Polymath (a.k.a. the Renaissance Man or the Generalist). Now that I know that it is a thing, I feel much better. Can you hear it now? “So, what do you do?”  “I’m a Polymath” “Wow, that sounds really boring. Sorry, but I hate math. More wine?”  Here’s a TEDx talk about Polymaths  

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