Lying is done with words and also with silence.

This was this quote that I randomly found while reading miscellaneous Internet jargon today.

Sometimes things pop up in front of you at just the right time, and hit the heart strings or the gut, whichever you prefer. Sometimes they don't mean much, and others, well, can be defining. This was one of those moments. Time will tell which category it falls under.

Before I continue, I want you to keep in mind, what I have written is out of realization, a revelation of sorts. It is not depression, or sadness. In fact it's joy. So be happy and bear with me.


I arrived back from India about 24 hours ago, and yet largely of what was weighing on my mind reached back as much as 11 months ago. Back to something so tiny, so minuscule, that in the moment I had thought nothing of it.

Last summer, at some point in June, a friend of mine and I were discussing the summer that would be. She, who would be one of my staff that summer, was trying to encourage me that I was the man for the job, that I was chosen to be there for a reason. She then turned to the person beside her, looking for confirmation. That person was someone that at the time I had never spoken to, despite having worked at the same place together the summer before, however we would become good friends soon after. Evidently, it was not until quite a bit later that I would realize that her first words to me, would be some of the most impacting words I would receive all summer.

She agreed, "People think very highly of you around here"

I first brushed this off, flattered, I dismissed it to a degree. But it lingered. It was a ticking bomb planted right between my eyes and it would eventually have a chain reaction that I believe has a lot to do with the faith and worldview that I adhere to at this very moment.

I soon came to question the validity behind the comment. "She was just being nice", "I'm sure she would say that to anyone".

But that soon turned ugly and I started to panic. "Why would someone, I don't even know, say such a thing?", "What does she even know about me?", "What kind of things has she heard about me?"

These thoughts filled my head for days afterword, until I came to a sharp conclusion. Either everyone has some mixed up image of me, or I had been lying to everyone, I had been a fraud, leading others to believe I was something I was not.

I felt terrible, all of my hidden faults, that I kept in dark places, shaded from the eyes of those around me, had just been brought into the light, by a single, harmless sentence. They were staring at me, and I felt sick.

I don't believe I blatantly told lies to prove to others that I was a great, or righteous person, but I do question the intent, the purpose behind my actions at times. I feel that in the silence of my own actions and movements, I worked in ways to gain approval and acceptance, at times I suppose even using God as a pawn.

It was a scary thought, and it left me rattled and unsettled for a good period of time. I didn't want it to be that way, I wanted to set things right. But how do you tell everyone that you are not the person they think you are? This sat with me, and stewed in me, but very little changed. Time passed. I forgot about the comment. I forgot about what it meant to me, about me.

Ten months later, I find myself on my way to India to volunteer at Mother Teresa's MOC, remembering those words. They rang in my heart, just like they had before. I began to question why I was going to India, and even why I would help anyone other than myself.

These sound like disgusting questions, and in a way they are. But I understood why people do, and should do these thing, I just didn't understand why I was doing them. I hated the fact that there was any glory in it. And the fact that I felt like I was seeking it. I hated the fact that people told me I was a good person for doing these things. I wish I didn't have the attention. It made everything I did feel fake.

That is until I got to Kalighat

My first stay in Kali will no doubt be a defining moment in my walk in this life. There are little words that will bring any sense to what happened to me there, and what it is I took away from it. But it is nothing short of beautiful. It sounds cliche to say something like that from such a trip, but the truth is unavoidable.

I was given the opportunity to tangibly love people in Kali. I believe it is one of the only times in my life I have found that in myself. There I saw that I could love people, and that I could do it minus the gratification of others patting me on the back, and encouraging me, or even seeing people get better or healed. People simply just don't come there to get better, they come to die. Loving them is the only tool we have available, it's the only thing that matters. So if I couldn't do that, then there would be no reason for me to stay. Things in me had to change, they were forced to.

If God taught me one thing at Kalighat it's this: There is not glory in loving God's people, there is sacrifice, and humility, pain and struggle. But through all this we get glimpses of God's glory and to revel in this, is joy.


Many struggle with self image because they want to be approved, accepted and loved by their peers. I most definitely did. I admit I still do at times. But somewhere a long the line I struggled even more with trying to live up to the existing image that people had of me. This hurt me as much if not more than the former.

The truth of the matter is I had put my worth and value in the scales of those whom I seek acceptance from, devaluing myself and my relationship with them. All of this instead of placing my value in my maker, and centering myself on the thing that I am called to do. Love.

That is it. It's so simple it's crazy. And scary. But Perfect.

This entry is a confession. It's to whomever is reading, listening. For those of you who do, I am ever thankful. Every note, every encouragement that you guys leave for Adam and I has brightened our trip and lives.

I have much more to tell you of my time at Kalighat, so I will try and write one more that pertains more to the events there before I leave for Romania.

Until then, I bid you adieu.

City in the Clouds.

To be honest it's my head that's in the clouds.
Adam and I decided to go to Darjeeling this past weekend, and arrived back in Calcutta this morning. Over the course of the weekend we traveled close to 40 hours, so if I am all over the place, or just don't make sense, please don't judge me.
Thursday night we jumped on the overnight train that takes us to the base of the mountain. It is about 10-11 hours by train to get to the closest stations, where you then grab a jeep that takes about another 3-4 hours to reach the top of Darjeeling.
The jeep ride was incredible. Aside from the fact we had 12 people in a jeep smaller than any minivan you have every laid eyes on.
The scenery was beyond all expectations. Beautiful vegetation builds it way u the entire side of the mountain, making for some of the most ravishing views out the back side of our car. It's too bad I was scared for my life most the time as our driver speed up the mountain at alarming rates, passed other jeeps, and dared the cliffs edge to hold us from a 200 foot drop off. It was an experience.
Arriving in Darjeeling, the first thing I noticed (aside from the ridiculous view) that it was cool out. That's right we had left out home of 37 degrees for the welcoming cool air of Darjeeling.
There are not a lot of words that I can put on paper that will give you a real idea of what Darjeeling is like. It's a very diverse place despite only homing only 100,000 people scattered all across the mountain face. There where a lot less Indian people than expected and a lot of Thia, Chinese, Nepalese and a mixture of others.
The most interesting of Darjeeling's many layers is it's political activism. Almost every day we were there Adam and I followed a political rally, whether it was the local Tibetans gathering to protest Chinas rule over Tibet, or the locals of Darjeeling demanding that they receive independence of West Bengal as Gorkhaland. The air was always filled with some tension of some sort, which kept Adam and I chasing the sounds of drums and chanting.
Again the scenery at the peek of the mountain is ridiculous. Adam and I spent a day hiking around the side of the mountain, making our way to the peek (which incidentally is an Indian army fortress, where we weren't exactly received with open arms). Nonetheless, it was breathtaking.
All in all the trip was amazing. From the political drama, to our small cottage of a hotel room looking over the mountain, to our now favorite Indian food stand to a day spent white water rafting (level 4 rapids if that means anything to you), Darjeeling was all in all amazing. I must say that returning to 36 degree weather today and heading directly to Kalighat was a bit of a shock to the system.
It's amazing the difference between Calcutta and Darj, they are worlds apart, yet you look at them on a map and they are remarkably close. It's defiantly a world worth seeing. And boy, I'm thankful that I am seeing it now.
I am sorry if this isn't the kind of post that you are used to reading from me. It's a bit more of a tourism blog than anything thought provoking. I didn't really let you into my mind too much today so I will have to put something else together soon. Don't worry I have plenty to say, and lot's of time to do it. I'm sure your not worrying.
Anyways that is me.
We leave India (tear) next Sunday, which will be a sad experience, however I am very excited to have one last hurrah with all of the wonderful people in Southampton and London. I will most certainly spend some time in reflection and let you know what I come up with.

I hope you are all taking life as it comes and loving every moment.

All of his love.

Michael

Kali.

Hello all.

I didn't plan on writing again before this weekend, but I am. We are headed to Darjeeling this weekend for 4 days, and I thought I would write when I got back (and I still may), but I just wanted to let you guys know what is going on with Adam and I at the moment. For the past week we have been volunteering at Mother Teresa's MOC (Missions of charity) Kalighat house. It's more commonly referred to (by westerners) as The house of the Dying and Destitute. Sounds fairly intense doesn't it?

Well I won't play it down and say it isn't. One of the first things Adam and I saw when we arrived was two dead bodies being carted out. That was eye opening.
We frequently see wounds that are beyond repair, and hear screams of bloodcurdling pain and torture.

I left the first day with few words for anyone. I was zonal. Trapped in my own head for a few hours. I knew that the things I had seen and heard where things that many people will not experiences in 70 years of life. I had to process them all in a 5 hour span.

But I came around. My mind cleared and I prepared myself to go back the next day.

Seven days deep, I can now say that working at Kalighat is as profound an experience I could have asked for. It's almost left such a mark I feel that it isn't easy to just tell people about it. Amongst all the anguish and pain there is hope and thankfulness, and laughter, and many other moments that help me get out of bed at 6 30 am everyday.

Seeing the thankfulness on one parallelized mans face when he is washed, massaged or adjusted is something I can't justly explain. Another teaches Adam and I handshakes, another just likes you to sit with him.
One man Ajay (who is not terribly ill) loves to help the volunteers and sister administer medications and care for the others. He also draws and loves to share is drawings with us. Every time I find myself in a moment where I am struggling or tired, or angry at the world, one of these patients does something to calm me, and often spread a smile on my face.

I can say I love working there. It's scary, and well out of my comfort zone, but it has spread much joy in my heart as well. I am very thankful.

On a side note, let me tell you about the area of Kalighat.

The word "Kalighat" actually refers to the Hindu God of destruction. Right next to the MOC house is actually the Kalighat Temple where you can see them slaughter dozens of goats and lambs every day as sacrifice. People behind the temple are drinking their blood and whatnot. They live in fear of Kali.

All I can say in India in Bananas.

Anyways that is all for tonight. I hope this finds you all well.

All of his Love for you and your loved ones.

Michael.

Namasté

A word sometimes used for greetings in India, more often those of emotional connection, If you have read Shane Claiborne's "The irresitable Revolution", you will have come across the term. It means, "The God in me sees the God in you".

Sometimes the English language is insuffiecient, at least in the most basic sense.

Calcutta (or Kolkata, depends on whom you ask) has continued to be an eye opening experience, that without a doubt, will leave footprints of all sorts on my life. There are so many little things that I could talk about here, that have changed the way I view the world, and examine my life, but I won't. It would be exhausting, and disabling. I need to write a book just to catalog the wild array of emotions and thought I have had since the moment we landed. It will have to wait for another day, or conversation. Or you could just come here.

But I will however indulge you in a little slice, a tidbit, a smudge if you will, of my experiences here thus far.

One. The other night, I happen to be idle in my room, tired from the long humid, and violently hot day, when I heard music, and cheering, yelling. There were drums and flutes and chanting of sorts. I immediately sprang to my feet, grabbed my camera, and ran out the door, to find that there was a Hindu celebration of sorts taking place in the small alley way right outside our hotel. It was singly of the most amazing things I have ever seen. There was so much energy, and the excitement of it all was increased by the use of lighting and constant movement, and smiles, hands in the air, all in a dark, dingy little alley way. It made me forget that people used that very same alley way as a public washroom. It was an absolutely beautiful event. So I began to film take pictures frantically. Soon Adam Joined me. But before I knew it, an Indian man latched himself onto my arm and pulled me toward the center of the chaos. A loud cheer ensued and I began to dance. Yes, I was in the center, dancing with a hundred Indian men surrounding me. hilarious. A moment frozen in time, that I won't soon forget.

Other than that, there have been plenty of even more amazing occurrences that I would love to tell you all about, however for the most part they are less glamorous on paper, so I will leave them for another day.

We are halfway through our time here in India. I am already sad about leaving. I would love to be here for longer, much longer. I will be back, that I know. There is too much for me here. Too many amazing children, beggars, sisters, brothers, mothers, shop owners, old and young. Too many beautiful people, that given the chance have so much to say. They have the faith (whatever it may be) of children, and are some of the most trusting people I have ever met. It makes me wonder where we have gone wrong back home. I guess it's a give and take situation. You can have community and trust in one another, streets littered with people, chatter, and movement. Or you can have privacy, room, security, and working sewage systems. Not both.

But maybe we can.

Anyways that really came out of nowhere, disregard it if you please. Or think about it, and take me seriously, look around at your neighbors, the community, and questions it's validity. I know I never really do. Just something to think about.

Anyways I am going to go. I am tired. I am up at 6am tomorrow for a full day with Mother Teresa's MOC. Keep Adam and I in your prayers, we are praying for you.

Your's,

MickD