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From behind view of toddler walking with parent on seashore

Soar by Reclaiming Safety, Trust, and Confidence

This week’s time is made possible by Prolificate.com where, for a limited time, you can sign up for one of a few slots I have for coaching. This is great when you’re working on a big decision – that maybe feels a little scary, or if you want to spend some time unpacking your own spiritual path. Sign up at prolificate.com/guide. Do you feel safe? What does that feel like? Have you ever felt UNsafe? What did THAT feel like? I think that feeling safe should be a human right or at least something that everyone should have access to at some point. Instead, it’s a privilege. I feel pretty safe. I’m uncomfortable sometimes… like the kind of discomfort that makes me squirm and get defensive or angry or self-righteous…. But really when I think about it, I’m not actually *unsafe.* Mostly, when I find myself reacting strongly to something… as if I’m reacting to a threat…. it isn’t actually my safety that’s being threatened. Maybe it’s something else. Lately, I’ve been spending time trying to understand the difference between comfort and safety – which is the topic for our time together today. Safety, Trust, Confidence, and Security. Where does it come from? What does it mean? Is anyone *ever* really safe? As an interfaith chaplain, part of my job is to accompany people from all faiths- and no faith at all – in some scary situations… It’s a reminder of just how UNsafe some people are – and of the comparative luxury I have most of the time. One thing that never fails to surprise me — some folks who seem the *least* safe… people who have seen hard things, lived through tough experiences… are sometimes the most serene, calm, patient people I’ve ever met. Think about this: Have you ever spent time around someone in this kind of position – say, a cancer patient? Somebody you think has EVERY REASON to be angry or resentful or suspicious because of what they’ve been through, but instead, they have this grounded presence… Why is that? Maybe they’re the one reassuring other patients and even staff in the hospital while they’re getting their treatment. Then, imagine leaving the hospital and on your way home, stopping by Starbucks for a coffee. As you walk in, someone in line is clearly agitated, maybe yelling or berating the person behind the counter because they got their order wrong. Is the Starbucks customer bad? Is the cancer patient good? It’s easy to praise the one and condemn the other. Clearly, life is short and we don’t need people creating more pain in the world just because you accidentally got whole milk instead of skim in your latte. What’s difference between that calm, saint-like cancer patient and the obnoxious, privileged snotty customer at the coffee shop? Here’s something to think about: What if both of those people are YOU? What if you just got done getting your radiation treatment and stopped at Starbucks on the way home – where I happened to see you yelling at the barista? Hmmm. Life’s complicated, no? I like to think in terms of black and white, but in truth, it’s often more complicated. James Baldwin, the American author, playwright, and social critic said, “Perhaps home is not a place, but simply an irrevocable condition.” Safety. Trust. Confidence. Security. Some religious traditions teach us that these things come from a God or something bigger than us. They can be given and taken away on a whim or maybe as a punishment. Other traditions teach us that we already have the tools we need. We have access to a feeling of safety, trust, confidence, and security all the time, regardless of what’s happening around us. Whatever your belief, I invite you to recognize that *both* of these potentials – the calm, reassured cancer patient, and the agitated, unreasonable customer at Starbucks exist in YOU. Right now. Safety. Trust. Confidence. Security. The next time I encounter you doing that at Starbucks, I hope I remember that you also were just at the clinic reassuring the other patients that everything is going to work out in the end, and reminding them not to miss the beauty of the spring crocus just starting bloom on the hospital lawn. The next time I encounter you at the clinic, surrounded by a saintly light, I hope I remember that you’re not proud of everything you’ve done in your life and that you’ll still make plenty of poor choices in the future. The next time I see you, I hope I remember that YOU are ME. I’m capable of all those things just like you. My safety, my trust, my confidence, my security, are all states of mind and ways of being in the world. Depending on how AWARE of them or CONNECTED to them I feel, I might behave in different ways. I hope when you see ME doing that at Starbucks, you might give me a wink and remind me that, whatever has me feeling so threatened, I have access to comfort and confidence. I hope that when you see me feeling safe, you give me a wink to remind me that not everyone has that same luxury and to be sure and do the work of lifting up those who aren’t as fortunate. Actually, I hope we both remember that we’re in this together… we can actually *create* a world with more safety, trust, confidence, and security just by reminding each other. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go put an extra dollar in the tip jar at Starbucks. Be well, my friend.

Bring the Right Steps in Focus

I’m Andrew Chirch, an Interfaith advisor and coach. 99 is a special weekly podcast series where we meet for 9 minutes to regroup, re-center ourselves, and prepare for the work ahead. Subscribe here to listen on your favorite podcast app, or you can use the player at the top of this post. A transcript is below. Are you impatient sometimes? Do you look to the future as the solution to your problems? (Like I sometimes do). I catch myself in this mode when I’m browsing eBay or amazon for the next cool piece of electronic gear, or I remember that time I bought a jeep. Oh was that 4 -wheeler going to change my life! I was going to be one of those intrepid adventurers who heads off to the wilderness on a moment’s notice… great hair blowing in the wind with the top down. As I drove by, people would probably notice my rugged good looks and want a jeep themselves. I would undoubtedly birth a movement. Now steps can be ableist… not everyone has a body that can take steps, so I also mean incremental progress. The reason I mention the story about the jeep is that it was such an example of my impatience —with myself— my dissatisfaction with the way things were going in my life. I’ve heard from other people who have their own version of the jeep story – whether it’s a hobby, a collection, a shopping habit, food, or anything that takes us out of ourselves. Out of ourselves…. ooh. that’s another layer to unpack. On this podcast, I often encourage you to move beyond yourself. To find ways to transcend what feels like the ordinary, and set off in search of majesty. Like anything, there is too much, there is not enough, and there is a middle path. Recently, we talked about living your life AS a work of art—how even the most ordinary seeming life can actually be a work of art. Every minute of every day like a brush stroke on canvas. Other times, I am reminded that part of the human experience can be boredom and staleness. It can take outside intervention – a tragedy, a traumatic event, or something unexpected to shake out of our doldrums. It’s important that we not waste our time in this life, no? After all, there’s a reason most people know what a bucket list is. (If you don’t you should look it up). Steps. Today’s theme. What is Andy talking about? Well, let’s see… he talked about the Jeep… which I guess was kind of like a step, but maybe in the wrong direction. Then there’s the danger of always running forward without looking around or savoring where the steps have taken me… Like too many steps too quickly. Then there’s the life with no steps at all – refusing to even come out of my house and face what life has to offer me. What’s left? I suppose in literary terms, we haven’t hit on the Goldilocks solution: just right. (or as my 12 year-old daughter pointed out… “actually, that would be the Baby Bear solution. Goldilocks is just colonizing the Bear Family’s experience.). So… What’s just right when it comes to steps? Hmmm. What would the baby bear answer be here? Well… let’s see…. your life is marching on every minute, every day… with your participation or without it. Are you present in it? Think about *that* — for better or worse, every step in your life has brought you here to this point. If you think that you were created with some purpose to fulfill, then there must be some value in your being in this place right now. If you think this whole experience is pure chance and random evolution, you’re still here, right? In fact, if this is all there is, then isn’t it even more important to look around and appreciate where you are at this step? Whichever you believe, none of us knows how many more steps there are, so what if we started taking notes about each one? I’m grateful you’re here on this step with me. I come back here each week to meet you and continue on this pilgrim mage together. You help me appreciate each step – whether it’s painful, sweet, messy, or easy… here we are. Dr. King said, “If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.” And I’ll paraphrase Henry David Thoreau, “The price of anything is the amount of life you pay for it.” What are you buying with your life? If you feel stuck and stagnant, maybe it’s time to take a step. If you don’t know which way to go, or what step to take, move toward joy. Make just one step that direction. Even if it’s the simplest thing. Make a small step, look around, locate joy, and make another step. That Jeep I told you about? It turns out it wasn’t the Jeep that represented Joy for me. I liked the feeling of being admired and loved by others… remember… the great hair blowing in the wind, people noticing, starting a movement. I’ve since learned that my joy has to do with community. (whispers, “that’s you”), so drop me a line sometime. Especially if you want to take me for a ride in your Jeep 😉

Hands writing while covered in messy rainbow paint

Last Chance? Don’t wait to create begin.

Do you want to know what Maya Angelou, the great poet, says about you? She said, “…we are all created creative and we can invent new scenarios as frequently as they are needed.” Did you hear that? Maya Angelou, one of the greatest minds of all time, Poet Laureate of the United States, says that YOU are creative! Do you think she meant it? Do you think she meant me too?! One of my favorite songs about this comes from a Unitarian Universalist singer songwriter named Jim Scott. May your life be as a song, Resounding with the dawn, to sing awake the light. And softly serenade the stars, Ever dancing circles in the night. My friend, what Jim wrote about in those lyrics has already happened. If you turn around the lyrics from a wish – May your life be as a song – to a statement of fact, you might see what I mean. The topic for this step of our time together is creativity, the creator or source of creation in you. A friend of mine has a father that spent over 30 years getting up in the darkness so that he could drive almost an hour to his job in a factory, then get off work in time to drive home and spend some time with his family and friends and do still MORE work around the house and his small farm. I’ve never told my friend this, but I’ve always thought of his dad as a master – cultivating and curating the life that he wanted in the way he wanted it. Like a work of art that I’ll never be able to make. I was recently listening to a great podcast about creative entrepreneurship – it’s called the fizzle show and in this particular episode, they were talking about how creative types can get stuck or blocked trying to make something. I instantly thought – HA! And you think it’s only artists or people who think of themselves as “Creatives” who suffer from this? As I listened, I was both excited and frustrated – part of me was screaming WE ARE ALL CREATING something – All the time! Sure, people who think of themselves as artists, writers, painters, or whatnot have a tidy measuring stick for what they do – did I paint today? Did I write today? Did I create something? But I feel like what was missed – and frankly what *I* miss too often is what Maya Angelou was getting at. From the time we are born to the time we die, everything we do is an act of creation. I had to look this up: as of 2016, according to the World Health Organization, folks live for an average of 72 years. That’s 37,869,120 minutes…. each one is like a brush stroke on a canvas. Sure, I can say, “Oh, I’m not being creative today. Thursday is my day to write. Today, I have to wash the car, pick up the kids from school, and call my brother.” But in truth, when you die, your obituary is going to talk about the painting you made over the course of your life. It’s going to include the mess-ups and the victories. It’s going to include what you said to your kids when you picked them up from school. It’ll include how you called your sister – or didn’t. All of it is a part of the life we’re creating every minute…. and yes, the sparkly Instagram moments count – but so do the trollish things we say and do. What are you creating? How are you creating it? If you think of your life as a bottle of ink, what letters are you writing? The possibilities are infinite. The supply of ink, however, is limited. What are you waiting to do that you want on your life’s canvas? The ink in your bottle is leaving little by little. You’re writing with it every minute. You are creating something. Is it what you want to create? Let me put it another way: Martin Luther King Jr. said, “The question is not if we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. The nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists.” Friend YOU ARE CREATIVE. You cannot help it. What are you creating? What’s worth more than anything to you? What kind of creative extremist are you just born to be? The world needs you now. Your audience is waiting for you, listening for you, watching for you. May you be a loving, radical, extremist. May you unleash whatever it is you’re here to unleash on the world. Whether it is something you think is art or not, get out there and sculpt the world that’s in front of you. Let yourself be amazed by something. Make a scene. Let yourself laugh out loud, or cry. Sing a new song, or an old one in a new way. May your life be as a song, Resounding with the dawn to sing awake the light. And softly serenade the stars, Ever dancing circles in the night.

Don’t Forget this Advice from the Buddha

This entry is part 11 of 33 in the series 99: a journey

Have you ever heard the saying, “there are no mistakes.” Or put another way, “there’s a reason for everything.” I’m of two minds when it comes to this episode’s theme, which is, the all-powerful force that puts you in a certain place at a certain time, and has you facing whatever it is that you’re facing. I’ll be honest. Sometimes these words have been comforting to me. As I face the loss of a job or an unexpected hardship, telling myself that “everything happens for a reason” takes me off the hook a little bit and allows me to relax. After all, I’m a big fan of Taoist and Hindu beliefs that (I think), encourage me to relax and not fight so much against what’s happening, but to find a way to work WITH the flow of things. Maybe not give up, but to find some sense of harmony in what’s going on – like swimming with a river instead of against it. Here’s where I have trouble with this though. There are no mistakes. How do I tell that to a starving child? How do I tell that to a victim of abuse? The truth is, sometimes religion and philosophy and sayings like this are luxuries that some people have the privilege of relying on, while others, well, let’s just say that if there’s a reason for starving children, it isn’t good enough. What is it that puts us on this path, in this place and time knowing which way to go? What is it that allows me to get up and face a day that I don’t know how to face? Is it courage? God? Is it some inner sense or instinct? If you can’t tell, I’m really wrestling this week with the hypocrisy I feel in mainstream culture… things like the law of attraction, and all the spirituality practitioners out there (I’m one, by the way), prosperity gospel, fake it till you make it, and so on. As I was writing this episode – on a nice laptop, in my comfortable home, with warm, dry clothes on and fast internet, I couldn’t help but think of – for how many people – these things are luxuries. In fact, what good is a laptop or fast internet if you can’t get enough to eat or you don’t know where you’re going to sleep that night. I know this may not be easy to listen to – I understand – if you just need to be supported and lifted up, maybe it’s better to go to a different episode where I do that. Right now, though, I want to ask you to consider your own power. If you’re anything like me, you question yourself and you struggle sometimes. You might wonder about your place in the world, or your soul’s purpose, and you might feel lonely, or disconnected, or need comfort. It helps me to remember that everyone needs love and comfort sometimes, and that love and comfort can look different to different people. If you’re feeling down or need comfort, may you be comforted—AND may we both be reminded of our own privilege as well. Maybe the thing that will comfort me is to go help someone else. The Buddha – Siddharta Gautama is purported to have said, “Those who have failed to work toward the truth have missed the purpose of living.” So here we are. Working toward the truth. What happens when the truth isn’t what we’d hope? What happens when it isn’t all unicorns and rainbows? What happens when we have our eyes opened and suddenly wish they’d close again – but there are some things that you cannot un-see? I think that’s just it. This week, I cannot unsee the hunger. I cannot unsee the injustice. I cannot unsee the suffering. What is even more uncomfortable to me is that as a straight, white man, I stand on the shoulders (or backs) of so many. I’ve suffered, sure, and I’ve worked hard, but the truth is, others who suffer more and work even harder will never have the opportunities I do. I don’t feel guilty for my opportunities, but, friend, my eyes have been opened. If anything, I want to work even harder to let you know that you are not alone. I have no idea what challenges you face, what battles you’ve fought just to be here, but I honor you for being here. Whatever all-powerful force has put me in this place and given me the challenges I face, I’m feeling called to share it with you. Be strengthened and built up so that you can do that for someone else, and they can do it for someone else. Maybe everything does happen for a reason. Maybe there really ARE no mistakes – or maybe mistakes happen all the time, and there are others of us who’ve been given what it takes to pick up the pieces – and we’re just not. May we do better. May we move forward knowing that we’re part of something much bigger than ourselves, and that the world is counting on each of us. 99: a journey Aspire to Kindness like Dumbledore Weird—You Only Have to Ask!

Prolificate Interview: Immigration expert Dr. Hugo Cordova Quero

As we talked, I couldn’t help but imagine myself in the situations he described, wondering what I would do. How I would react in the same situations.

On the way. Wednesday, May 15th. Miami Airport.

https://www.listeningtoayahuasca.com It’s Wednesday, May 15th, 2024. I’m sitting in the Miami airport and am halfway through my 3-day “planes, (no) trains, and automobiles” journey to Gaia Sagrada retreat center outside Cuenca, Ecuador.   When I get there, on Friday, I’ll have a day to settle in before we get started with the 12-day retreat.   Because I’ve heard so much about this plant medicine and its intensity, I’ve been trying to prepare myself by reading about other people’s experiences. I’ve also been doing my best to heed their advice and tips.  Like many things, I’m probably overdoing the buildup for this experience, but I suppose it’s one way I deal with the unknown: There’s a part of me (named Atlas) whose job it is to try and anticipate all the things that might happen and to be uber-prepared for any of them. Atlas honest-to-God packed a Phillips screwdriver for this trip to the Andes. (It makes perfect sense once you think about it). At any rate, Rachel Harris’ book is so far an interesting compilation of her personal experiences as well as those of her patients over many years of studying the kinds of healing, recovery, and psycho-spiritual breakthroughs that are possible. Maybe give it a read or listen. I’ll be staying the night in Quito before catching another flight to Cuenca – a smaller colonial town of ~ 600,000 people up in the mountains. Ciao.

An Update

Thank you for your support. Really. Since my son Dillon’s series of seizures on April 17th, and his few days in hospital, he has been steadily recovering. In some ways, and to someone who has never met him, he appears completely normal. He tells another story though. Although each day is a little better than the one before, and he hasn’t had any more seizures, his brain is still not what it was… agile, responsive, and capable. He is back to working a light/limited schedule helping his boss with the administrative bits of running several restaurants. He seems to have received this as a wake up call and reminder that life is short, precious, and unpredictable, and to make damned sure he’s living in a way that matters to him. I’m grateful he’s okay, and your prayers and kindness continue to be needed and appreciated. As the initial crisis phase of this whole thing tapers off, I’m increasingly aware that I have work to do with my own spirit. At this point in my life (like many folks), I’ve been through things that have buckled my knees and bent my spirit into the funny and unique thing that it is today. Yes, I’ve been resilient and blessed in many ways. And. This feels like a section break in my life’s story… that blank page in between where it’s a good time for a drink refill and a bathroom break. Although I’ve done a fair bit of self-work (I have an impressively thick stack of therapy receipts at this point), the truth is that it’s time for me to take a step forward in examining my fears and the collage of scars and duct tape that has carried me through two divorces, the loss of my kids’ mom to suicide, and a few other loop-the-loops and barrel rolls along the way. I’m aware of the fleetingness of life…. that my life (or anyone’s) could end at any point (mine hopefully in such outrageous fashion that folks at my memorial will be straining to hold back laughter….. taken out by a falling blue chunk of ice from an airplane toilet anyone?). Gallows humor aside, I also want to be prepared so that if I happen to live for another few decades, I’m not causing nightmares to those around me because I’m such a suppressed mess! Since leaving my most recent job at The Chaplaincy Institute, I’ve been taking time to rest, meditate, exercise, attend some art therapy sessions, generally turn inward, and tend to what I find there. As I do this, I’m finding myriad more questions. To that end, I’ve decided to do some solo travel to South America starting about a week from now. I’ll first be heading to Ecuador for a retreat with ayahuasca and San Pedro plant medicine healers to help in the process of self discovery. Who knows what the future holds, but if I have one bit of advice, it is this: Do the thing you are here in this life to do. Ask the questions you’ve been afraid to ask. Give the hugs that would be awkward but you’d love to give. Say the things out loud that you haven’t had the time or courage to say. Hold yourself (and me) accountable to living a life of meaning – whatever that might look like to you. If you’re reading this, you’ve had a part to play in my story. You may not know that it’s an important part, but it is. I appreciate you. I listen and learn from you. I value your time and friendship, and I look forward to the next time our paths cross. Until then, thank you for caring, following along when the plot gets weird, and showing up for me. May you experience how good that support feels. A thousand times over. In gratitude. AC

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Immigration: gender matters.

This entry is part 5 of 5 in the series Immigration

Immigration Series: Part V For this final installment, I want to look at gender and how it interplays with immigration. Perhaps it would be helpful to clarify the baseline definition of gender. The following is adapted from the Apple dictionary entry: Gender: “either of the two sexes (male and female), especially when considered with reference to social and cultural differences rather than biological ones. The term is also used more broadly to denote a range of identities that do not correspond to established ideas of male and female:” Although the words gender and sex are often used interchangeably, they have slightly different connotations; sex tends to refer to biological differences, while gender more often refers to cultural and social differences and sometimes encompasses a broader range of identities than the binary of male and female. “What does gender have to do with someone moving from one country or culture to another,” you ask? Let’s take a look, shall we? The first thing that comes to mind is that in many cultures that are heterosexual and patriarchal, there are clearly-defined roles for men and women. Around the world, the poorer and more strongly patriarchal the society is, the (disproportionately) worse women fare in terms of health. Often, women are expected to take care of the rest of the family by cooking, cleaning, and meeting household needs like gathering wood or fuel for cooking and cleaning in addition to then leaving for a long day of working outside the family for money. Those women then return after long days only to have to prepare meals and wash clothing for the family members to prepare for the next day. It’s not hard to imagine why a woman would want to emigrate– to leave a situation like this for better opportunities, and many do. On the immigration side, gender roles influence the way that people are perceived in the host society. If the receiving society is heavily patriarchal, then immigration of women may be viewed with less suspicion or resistance. Women often move into roles like domestic service, sex or entertainment work, and in general, may move more freely within the culture. This may lend the immigrant population a less permanent nature as the women retain ties to their home culture by remittances (sending part of their earnings back home) and continued travel / migration back and forth. When populations of men migrate, the character of the immigration is different. Men may be less likely to migrate alone and then to bring their families with them. This creates a more rooted immigrant community within the receiving culture, which may be perceived as more disruptive. In the case of family migration, women often serve as connectors within the new community which acts as a kind of glue. Bringing the family unit along from one culture to another allows for continued social and cultural events, religious observance, and a continued sense of identity, which is often fostered by women. Lastly, gender plays an interesting role when migration happens between cultures with different notions of gender. When the receiving society is less patriarchal, people who were forced to adhere to a strict binary of male/female in the old culture may feel free to “come out” in the new one. People who are non-binary, gender-fluid, or trans-gender may find themselves able for the first time to claim an identity that previously had to be suppressed or hidden. Conversely, migrating from a more liberal society to a more conservative one may force people to hide parts of their identities to conform to more rigid expectations around gender. While this might seem like a curiosity on the surface, it can be a life-threatening reality for many when examined more deeply. Again, stories can be apparent and operate as obvious public narratives. For many of us, stopping at this level of understanding is all we feel necessary. When something doesn’t make sense, however, it is often by looking beneath the surface for the hidden narrative that we can find answers (or at least more helpful questions). How do you experience immigrants? Are they immigrants or are they people who migrate? How does the story of your life intersect with the story of theirs? What would it take to make you leave your country, culture and relationships behind to move to a new country? Would you have the courage to do it? Would you take your religion or your food or your music with you or would you try to assimilate to the new place? We haven’t covered politics or the arbitrary idea of nation-states as ways to divide the world, but those ideas are just as complicated, with surface stories and hidden stories of their own. Any way you examine the issue, it appears that human beings have certain needs that must be met. It is in the ways we meet those needs that we differentiate ourselves. I have found this look at immigration helpful, and I hope you have too. May we both be reminded that humans have far more in common than the things that make us different. May we be curious and ask the question “Why?”more often instead of simply accepting the narrative that our own cultures provide us. May we ask ourselves,“What would I do?” when we are puzzled or frustrated with someone different than we are. I leave you with a quote from the Sufi, Hazrat Inayat Khan: “I wandered in the pursuit of my own self; I was the traveler, and I am the destination.” Whether traveler, expatriate, immigrant, or emigrant, may we each remember that we are all searching for something. Be curious. Immigration Why do Immigrants bring their religion with them?

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Why do Immigrants bring their religion with them?

This entry is part 4 of 5 in the series Immigration

Immigration Series: Part IV Immigrants are sometimes recognizable in a host society by the ways they act differently. One of the more recognizable ways of acting can be motivated by religion. I am thinking of a taxi driver I once saw stop his car, retrieve a prayer rug from the trunk, and perform salat – ritual prayer done 5 times each day by observant Muslims. Because I live in a Christian culture, this immediately triggered a story for me about who this person was and how they came to be on their knees in a gas station parking lot. This brings up a question right away: Why doesn’t the person just assimilate to the new host culture? Move to the United States (in this case), learn English, become Christian, and learn to love hot dogs, action movies, and pizza like other Americans. But wait: Pizza is Italian, though, right? Never mind pesky questions that blur the lines of my tidy narrative. We’re talking about religion. One of the ways I try to understand issues like this one – why people who immigrate don’t just assimilate – is to imagine myself in their situation. If I were Christian and my religion gave me great comfort, I would probably feel a great deal of gratitude or loyalty to it. If circumstances then changed in my own country and became bad enough that I had no other choice but to leave, it makes sense that I would take my religion with me, no? After all, my faith might be the one thing that carried me this far and gave me the strength to consider leaving my home in search of something better. Why would I abandon the very God who allowed me to survive and make this change? Although the religions might be different depending on the context, immigrants move all over the world: from Turkey to Germany, from South America to Asia, from India to Africa. It only makes sense that they would bring their religious practices with them. Imagine yourself in a strange new place where the language, the customs, and the culture are completely unfamiliar. Would you long for the comfort of the home you remember? Would you jump at the chance to create a sense of community – the familiar – among all the foreign? I would. This is why we find small, but vibrant Brazilian Catholic church communities in Japan, Korean Christian Churches in San Francisco, and Mosques in London. I have come to understand that religion is an inseparable part of culture, even for those who deny that religion. The Western calendar is calibrated off of Jesus’ birth. Our culture ebbs and flows in a yearly cycle marked by Christian festivals like Christmas and Easter (which were themselves overlaid on pre-Christian religious festivals). Our criminal courts have a jury of twelve, one representing each tribe of Israel, our Presidents place their hand on the Christian Bible to profess their adherence to its code as they are sworn into office. Religion, which means, “that to which we bind ourselves,” is yet another story with many levels. On the surface, it is often a system of beliefs and practices that one uses to be in relationship with God or some higher power. Like other cases, there is also a deeper, sometimes hidden story about not being alone.When all else fails, when everyone and everything I know has left or has changed, my religion binds me to the one thing that does not – and will not – change. Why not cast that off and assimilate to the religion of a new culture? Some do, of course, but I have to ask, “why would I?” Immigration Race & Ethnicity: our Favorite Fairytales Immigration: gender matters.