September 25, 2002

Anarchy. Liberalism. IMF. World Bank. Negotiation. Resolution. Birth Control. Party Animal. Freedom. Ignorance. Self conscious. Conservative. Sheltered. Longing. Not belonging. Alone. Memory.

Friends?

Future. Where, what, how, who, when. Understanding. Not understanding. Protests. Tear gas. Long sleeves & high socks. Old. Young. Fat. Normal. Obsessed.

Stop obsessing.

Cell phone. Conference call. Time zones. Insecure. Unsure. Out of style. No style. Screwing up.

Screw it.

Languages. Which one. Research. Writing papers. End result. Advisor. Christianity. Cross-cultural.

How’s it fit?

Balance. Values. Ethics. Morals. Who am I. what am I. God is love.

God is.

Guiding me. Leading me. Drawing me. Cleansing me. Filling me. Loving me. Focus on Him.

At the end, that’s all there is.

Him.


NOTE: This poem was written one month into grad school, September 25, 2002. I was at American University and living in DC and was really going through some intense internal challenges. I vividly remember sitting on a bench in the main area of campus having just finished a cell phone conference call for work and it all hit me at once.

World Bank protests were going on, I was in a much more liberal environment than I was used to or had ever been in before, I had just read an article on the different health policies of all the universities and discovered that American is one of the most liberal in the area. The elephant and donkey painted sculptures (party animals) were on campus hiding from the protests downtown. I had read on a website that anarchists wear long sleeves etc. to protect themselves from the tear gas.

So there was much swirling around inside of me and I just had to get it down. As I wrote, the action of putting it all onto paper was cathartic and naturally led me to the conclusion. To me journaling as a form of prayer has always resulted in praise and recognition.