Ubuntu

One of the sayings in our country is Ubuntu - the essence of being human. Ubuntu speaks particularly about the fact that you can't exist as a human being in isolation. It speaks about our interconnectedness. You can't be human all by yourself, and when you have this quality - Ubuntu - you are known for your generosity.

We think of ourselves

far too frequently as just

individuals,

separated from

one another,

whereas you are connected and what you do affects the whole world. When you do well, it spreads out; it is for the whole of humanity. (Desmond Tutu)

I first stumbled across Ubuntu when reading some of the words and inspirations of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Big surprise there.

It was on the back of this book, a saying that could have been easily overlooked, but somehow, I managed to see it.

I am what I am because of who we all are.

This is the essence of Ubuntu, a concept a part of African spirituality, particularly stemming from southern parts in Africa.

I've been thinking a lot about humanity, and the world, yes, of course, but I have also been thinking about a special place in my heart where a special group of girls reside.

I have tasted a sense of interconnectedness around the globe, and that's beautiful. I also can feel a very different, but even more tangible interconnectedness with my best friends at Hendrix, which I think counts for something really special.

Dear Ali, Lauren, Jordana, Michelle, and Rachel,

I am what I am because of who we all are.

I've changed a lot over these past three years. And, it's no question that y'all have too. And your change has been a part of my change. What have we have done has affected each other, and somehow, after Habitat, adventures on the field hockey bus, Bible Study, classes, SoCo54, all the good times, and all the hard times too, I find myself ready for this last year, more ready than ever to do it with my best friends.

We are all so different—crazy different, even. But as I get my stuff slowly back together to come back to our home in Conway, well, I think back on all of our adventures, journeys, experiences, and times together, and somehow I feel so much reassurance, love, and comfort, just knowing we are all on this same ride together. It's nice. It's senior year, y'all.

And when we finally reunite, it will be the first time some of us have seen each other in almost 9 MONTHS. Hello, like Rachel has said, someone could have had a BABY in that time.

I will see you, Michelle, and we can finally read our bibles together and journal, and contemplate things such as time while somehow also having a photo shoot and still getting our homework done.

I will see you, Ali, and we can play field hockey together again (!!!!) and continue our creeper game, and of course discuss the state of the world in the same conversation we talk about hot men.

I will see you, Rachel, and we will finally be back together after our EPIC adventure in Ghana. We can talk Ghanaian, continue our heart to hearts, and of course, be ridiculous as always.

I will see you, Lauren, and we will get to play hockey together again (!!!!) and meet for breakfast, and talk about anything and everything, being rebellious here and there.

I will see you Jordana, and we will laugh together, try accents together, and of course complete the mission together. I will cook you Ghanaian food, and you will bring me baked goods.

Ubuntu might have been intended in African spirituality as a way to see the world, and oh, I see it. I am living it. Y'all are a part of this journey I am having.

You can't exist as a human in isolation. I believe this.

You can't thrive at Hendrix without some beautiful people around you. I believe this too.

I know things have changed, and will keep changing too. This is life. Josh Radin so beautifully says, "so let the wine blow us, to wherever it says we are supposed to go."

But, I think change makes us stronger. It brings us closer. So, when we go back in a few weeks, I look forward to lots of hugs, tears, stories, wine, and picking up right where we left off.

Love y'all,

Heather

 

 

 

 

2 albums; one heart

I finally have my Ghana pictures all put together in an album. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

I love it.

And as I looked through the album that now holds snapshots of our crazy, wild, incredible journey: the Kissemahn kids, Coca-Cola, Togo & Benin, the beautiful coastline of Ghana, and our random photo shoots around Accra, I managed to find the photo album that I had with me while I was in Ghana.

This album was a source of comfort for me while I was abroad. It was nice to have a piece of home when I came across difficulties, when I was sad, when I was homesick, and when I was needing a little reminder of everything I had waiting for me at home.

In this album are pictures of my family, of various trips, and of course, my friends.

It has pictures from my mission trip to Vietnam, of the hockey team, of my incredible grandma, of my best friends and I jaunting around Hendrix, of hikes in my favorite parts of the mountains, and even of Buddy.

There are empty spots for pictures where Rukia, Salem, and Gloria took a few to keep in their homes back in Kissemahn. I think I'm going to leave it like that—a nice reminder of where I have left a big piece of my heart.

Though it's impossible to describe what my journey in Ghana has meant for me, with these pictures, and some story-telling, I can make a little headway.

As I look through the photos of familiarity—my parents, siblings, and friends—I like where I am going. I like where I have been. I like it, just right here. Right now.

That's the trick with photographs, you know. How to embrace them for exactly what they mean; to let them take you back, but also use them to propel you forward. I don't know when I'm going back to Ghana. I don't think that door has completely closed just yet. So, when I look back on these pictures, I will laugh, cry, and remember. I will cherish. And I will appreciate and know that is from these experiences that I am who I am. And, I have that forever. I am taking that with me. I am moving forward with this inside of me.

That is the value of a photograph.

 

The beautiful pianist

A perfect moment.

We celebrated birthdays for the month of July today in the dining room at The Gathering Place.

Ice cream. Cake. Singing.

One woman slowly made her way over to the big brown piano, took a seat, and just played. Her eyes were far from being fixated on the music; it was clear, this woman knew this song by heart.

She was playing an old church hymn. Everyone stopped and listened.

Her eyes shut, and still I could see them. She was in another world. She was gone.

I wanted more and more and more.

The music came slowly, and then quickly, and all at once everyone was mesmerized. This was by a woman, who maybe by society and the rest of the world has counted her out.

She isn't rich enough. She isn't skinny enough. She needs help. She can't do it alone.

It makes me wonder: who really can?

And so here she is. Playing the grand piano with vigor I haven't seen in so long.

I feel refreshed. Invigorated. Renewed. Just from watching, and feeling her heart that she is so generously pouring out for everyone to feel.

As quick as it comes, it is over. She gets a standing ovation, and the women are on their feet clapping, screaming, taken aback by the beauty this woman so unexpectedly displayed.

What are we all carrying around that we can offer the world?

So let the wind blows us

So, I've been thinking.

Yes, please run. When that happens, it can be quite scary.

And, I don't really know what everything means. Because I'm young, oh so young, and I don't know exactly what I want out of this crazy life.

But, maybe, at the exact same time, I do.

I wrote in my journal.

I want to be happy.

I want to love.

I want to be a woman of hope. I want hope to guide me, pull me, push me. Just when I think I can't go any further.

I want to play. I never want to stop, I never want to stop exploring, learning, and appreciating.

I want to get dirty. Dirt on my face, hands, under my nails. As long as that means I've lived, and maybe enjoyed this beautiful earth that much more.

I want to laugh. And, make people laugh too. Even at the risk of sounding like a complete crazy loon. It's just so much more fun that way.

I want to know God. I want that to come and go right through my soul, so that I always feel like He is filling me right back up.

I want to be a best friend. I want to have best friends.

I want to fall in love. With a man, with beautiful children, with places all over this world.

I want to be strong. Strong enough to be independent, still relying on God and others, and strong enough to be me. Not afraid to be exactly who I am.

And, more than anything, I just want to believe. I want to believe that anything is possible. That love can move mountains. That everything happens for a reason. And that every day, every moment. It's a gift.

So, yes, I've been thinking. Life is confusing, challenging, hard, ugly, dirty, and just plain ridiculous sometimes. But you know what?

Those perfect moments—watching a pure and steady sunset, laughing with tears rolling down your face, coming home with grass stains from a game well played, and just LIVING—it kind of makes everything worthwhile.

Open the door.

Streetlight by Joshua Radin.

 

I'll wait for something under a streetlight
It won't be long because

 

It's dark, it's cold it's one of those nights where

Something out there keeps me alive


But I don't know where to go

So I think I'll sit and stay here a while

Till I figure it out

So let the wind blow us
To wherever it says
We are supposed to go.

 

When you want something but can't name it
It's under a streetlight

It's something you've never seen before
Open the door

It's something you've always been afraid of

It's under a streetlight
And now all you want is more

But I don't know where to go
So I think I'll sit and stay here a while
Till I figure it out

So let the wind blow us
To wherever it says
We are supposed to go

I don't mind the wait it's fine

As long as you know

It's the wait that could be the something.


But I don't know where to go
So I think I'll sit and stay here a while
Till I figure it out

So let the wind blow us
To wherever it says
We are supposed to go

 

 

 

oh beautiful for spacious skies.