Mountain Top Yoga and Uniqueness

Pictures of mountain-tops, camping sites, yoga poses, and delicate cappuccinos are some of the images I find on many “Christian” and “Catholic” instagrams, tumblrs, and blogs. Don’t get me wrong, I love doing yoga and I have had some awesome insights while climbing mountains (see On Top of the World). But at the same time, there is something unattainable about these pictures. They have an essence of cool and collected I am positive I will never be able to achieve. While these blogs are beautiful, I realize I don’t necessarily see my own faith in camping trips and coffee runs. The fact is, faith looks different on all of us.

I am a Catholic and, as it goes with being a student at Notre Dame, so are many of my friends. Yet for each of my friends, being Catholic means something completely different. For some of my friends, it means rosaries and daily mass. For others, it’s Christian worship music and faith sharing in small groups. For others, it might be hours pouring over theological texts and reveling in the scholarship behind what we believe. For me, being Catholic is serving others by teaching catechism and being part of a community service choir. For me, it’s deep “God talks” with my mom. It’s the thrill of receiving the Eucharist. It’s giving total trust in God’s plan for the future. And that is only the beginning.

The word “Catholic” means universal and while so many aspects of our faith are the same around the world, there are also differences in faith that come from culture and ethnicity. Here at Notre Dame, it is easy to see this from our various groups and masses. Voices of Faith and the Rejoice! Mass bring a refreshing energy and a welcoming community. Cora Primavera and Ballet Folklorico, akin to the Hispanic tradition, come alive with vibrant music, language, and spirit. Masses on our campus range from orthodox services to Root Beer Float Mass. Each of these liturgies is rich in its own way. While we each might gravitate to masses that fit for us better, they all work to bring us closer to God.

Our own faith lives work in much the same way. God made each of us unique and gave us all a purpose. So, it makes sense that we don’t all have faith lives that look the same. It makes sense that Catholicism looks difference on all of us. It is healthy to stretch ourselves to try new things in relation to our faith. It is also healthy to realize what works best for us and to keep working to get the most we can out of those aspects as well.

There  are a lot of peoplewho prefer to make Catholicism into a series of check boxes. It is easy to say “If you do this, If you believe this, If you follow this- then you are Catholic.” But that isn’t realistic. We all have experiences that make us unique. We all have parts of the faith in which  we might struggle and teachings we connect with more. We have questions and doubts,which are natural and normal to have. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t valuable members of the church. In fact, our unique-ness makes the church richer for it.

I recently read an article lamenting “Cafeteria Catholics” who don’t believe every single teaching of the church and instead “pick and choose” from the giant dining hall of Catholic teachings. This view is dangerous, judgmental, and hurtful. It fails to see the uniqueness that each person brings to the faith. It fails to see the wonderful imperfections we all have. It fails to understand that we have a God who is always welcoming us and reveling in the wonder we have become. And in the end, our relationship is always between us and God.

The Year of Mercy is about throwing the doors wide open and yelling loudly from the rooftops “All are welcome.” It is about realizing there is no oneway to live out our faith or one type of person who is Catholic. It is about reaching out to make members of the church feel more included. It is about showing that God-like love to everyone who is part of the church. In fact, the only way we truly fail to be Catholics is when we fail to love. God is always, always calling us to be the most loving humans we can be. That should be our only priority when it comes to the members of our church. 

One of the most important things I’ve learned about myself through my faith life at Notre Dame is that you need to live out your faith life in a way that is authentic to who you are and what you believe. Learning to be comfortable with the way Catholicism looks on me, imperfections and all, is one most important journeys I’ve undertaken in my faith. So go out and discover what that means for you- event if  it means praying on mountaintop doing yoga in a corn field. Whatever it is, setting your heart aflame with heavenly love is the best place to start.

Breaking the Bubble: On Traveling Alone

“You went to Germany by yourself for a week? Why would you do that?”

“You must have been so brave to travel by yourself.”

These are some responses I receive when I tell people what I did last year for spring break. It’s weird because looking back, I don’t feel like my choice to travel alone was particularly radical or brave, but I do think it was one of the most important things I did while I was abroad.

There were many amazing things about studying abroad in Paris, but one of the best parts was  getting two weeks off for spring break. My mom was going to be there for part of it, so I was already planning to visit Barcelona. I had also made plans to meet my friend in Greece. But in between these two trips, I had a whole week free to travel. The rest of my friends in Paris were going to places I had already been in Europe and I was itching to go somewhere new. There was no way I was going to spend that week sitting in my room. So, I decided to grab a train ticket for Munich, rent an apartment  for the week, and sign up for some day trips while I was there.

I’m a pretty independent person. I’d traveled to Edinburgh by myself, so this wasn’t my first foray, just my longest. I have a good sense of direction and basic common sense, so I wasn’t afraid of anything going wrong. But I did have one small hesitation. I’m an extrovert. I like talking, being around people. So I was worried that travelling alone would be really lonely. I couldn’t imagine going a week without talking to other people. I prayed about this before I left, asking God to keep me safe, happy, and never alone.

I was blessed in my travels in that loneliness never came to fruition. My trip began with a six-hour train ride. About half way through the train journey, we realized everyone in my compartment spoke English- an Italian woman, a Chinese girl, and another American. Once we started talking, we couldn’t stop and spent hours chatting on our way to Munich. Even better, the American guy lived near the apartment I rented and was able to give me a crash course in the Munich public transportation system. I felt relief that night when I got to my apartment (which was actually the coolest apartment in the world) that my trip had already been less lonely than I had expected.

This continued for the rest of the week. The next morning, on a walking tour of the city, I met a group of girls who were studying abroad in London and invited me to tag along with them to the Spring Festival in Munich. The next day, on a day trip to the Neuschwanstien Castle, I made friends with two American girls studying abroad in Paris. It’s always amazing to make new friends especially when it means you have someone to take pictures of you with a fairy tale castle. Later that week, when visiting Saltzburg, Austria, I made friends with an Australian guy and a girl from New York. We spent the rainy afternoon recreating scenes from the Sound of Music and adventuring in a fortress at the top of a mountain.

Each day of my trip, I encountered new people, new stories, and new worlds. Each person shared with me stories of their travels, their hometowns, and their unique perspective of the world. In turn, I realized how when travelling on your own the social barriers that exist in our own lives stop existing. So often in America, when I meet new people, I am constantly sizing myself up and assessing them. When travelling though, I felt like I met others with my eyes wide open. I had no context in which to judge them, so I was free to listen and share with them without jadedness. I began to feel as if I was part of something bigger than myself, a community of people linked together through nothing more than humanity.

I also love how travelling alone let me be independent. I could stay up late watching Netflix or go to bed super early if I was exhausted. I could eat ice cream for dinner if I wanted (and I did). I didn’t to worry about upsetting anyone else’s plans. It was during this trip that I started writing a story that eventually became a novel of over 100,000 words. This trip let me be myself as much as possible.

Notre Dame is a wonderful place and I love every minute being here. But our campus is a bubble. We see the same people and the same places. While study abroad is a chance to escape the bubble, many people spend their time abroad traveling only with the same Notre Dame students. I don’t want to make those experiences sound invaluable. I took many trips with ND students and I treasure the way those trips helped me grow closer to my friends and create new memories with them. But study abroad is also an opportunity to exchange cultures, to take risks, to get to know yourself better, to get to know your world, which can only really happen when you let the bubble burst.

Many of my junior friends, including my friend and fellow blogger Katie Arndorfer, have embarked on the beginning of their semesters abroad. Studying abroad is one of the most life changing opportunities I’ve had Notre Dame. It wasn’t always easy, but it was always rewarding. But the true rewards came when I challenged myself to strike out on my own path and travel on my own. This is the same challenge I am posing to my friends who are starting their study abroad adventures. See where your travels take you and whose paths you might cross. When you take the risk, trust God, and travel on your own.   

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Paths of Mercy: Prison Ministry

There were a lot of cool things I could have been doing the afternoon of Halloween -- My friends had invited me out to lunch;I had a French paper due later that afternoon . But, instead I was in a car heading toward the South Bend Juvenile Justice Center.

The Celebration Choir had decided to perform at the center that afternoon. Our choir had packed up all our instruments into vans. We got there early to rehearse. We worried about who was going to pass the microphone to whom. We got excited to sing our favorite songs. Apart from the metal detector we had to walk through on our way in, it was a concert just like any other. Afterward, we broke up into small groups and spent time talking to the kids. We talked about our favorite things to study in school, our favorite foods, our favorite styles of dance. It was the same kind of thing I talk about with the students I teach.

Because yeah, they might be in the juvenile justice system, but they are kids. They are humans. They deserve to listen to beautiful music. They deserve to spend a rainy afternoon discussing everyone’s favorite Chipotle order. They deserve love and dignity, just like everyone else.

At my mom’s work there is a beautiful mosaic of the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy. I would look at them as a kid, checking them off in my head. “I volunteer at soup kitchens. I teach Sunday school. I’m doing all of these.” And then I’d get to “Visit the Imprisoned” and think “Well I can’t do that one.” I completely wrote it off, thinking there was no way I could do that act of mercy. I didn’t know anyone in prison. I didn’t know how to visit a prison. I had watched a documentary about prison in my high school sociology class and it looked pretty scary. I just couldn’t do that one.

I got to college and began to see things a little differently. In my classes I learned more about the problems in our prison system. About the way a system that should be based on justice, was being driven by quotas and laws that were laced with racism. I began to see narratives appearing on TV that paired stories and voices to the prison experience. I began to realize that while prison was a system, it was made up of very real people. These were people who needed love, affirmation of dignity, in the same way senior citizens or preschoolers do.

We are called to serve everyone, not just those who are easy to love, not just those who are comfortable to love. Today marks the beginning of the Year of Mercy for the church. It is a year about “opening the door” and inviting people back in. But in many ways, the doors that need to be opened are the doors in  our hearts. God shows us endless, radiant mercy, but we need to share that mercy with others. We need to reach out and serve everyone. Of course, we can serve those who are easy to love, but it is also an opportunity to reach out to those in society who are unloved and nearly forgotten, too.

Notre Dame has made it easy to explore prison ministry if that is something you are interested in doing. The Reading for Life Program lets ND students serve as leaders for book discussions at the Juvenile Justice Center. Dismas House serves those returning from incarceration. There are even more organizations on the CSC website. There are also “inside-out” classes where you get to take classes at the Westville Correctional Center alongside prisoners. We are surrounded by opportunities to go out and show mercy to others. Let this Year of Mercy be the push you need to go do it.

As I left the juvenile correction facility that day, I felt humbled. I felt honored to have served these kids whose lives were harder than mine, who would deal with struggles I would never know. I was grateful t they opened their hearts to us. Because if we can touch someone’s heart through music, through books, through conversation, whatever it may be,we can help them open up to love for themselves, for others, and in the end, for God.

All About Pep

“Love’s a journey of a lifetime and where you finish isn’t where you start,” – Sing for the Wind, Roo Panes

When I was nine, I got my first bra. And so did my Grandpa (well to be honest, it probably wasn’t his first). In the next year or two, my Grandpa would become my Grandma. It might sound weird or uncomfortable, but it’s not. It’s real. In fact, this experience is the greatest lesson in love me and my family have ever known. Let me tell you all about Pep.

As a two year old, I gave weird names to everyone in my family. My grandma was called Dee. My aunt was Juju. My grandpa was Pep. My grandparents were the most wonderful people. They were (and still are) two of my greatest role models in faith. They were both professors at a local university. Dee taught religion and ran a retreat house with my mom on the side. Pep taught broadcasting and was published author, an expert on trains. They did normal grandparent things- take family vacations, bake in the kitchen, go to my dance recitals, and have Wednesday morning waffle brunch with me and my mom.

It changed when I was eight, in the way it always seems to, not with a single change but with a whole spiraling spew of them that threaten to undo everything you know as your life. For Christmas that year, all the women in the family went to Chicago for a girls weekend to get my Christmas present- my first American Girl doll. It was only after being there for a day when Dee felt as if something was wrong and we rushed back home. She was soon diagnosed with brain cancer. And so began several hard months of visiting the hospital every day. My Aunt Juju got married that summer and my grandma was in attendance, dying a few days later.

The next year, Pep began making the transition from male to female.

I would love to say that my family reacted entirely positively right away- that we were some sort of paragon of love and acceptance. But that wouldn’t be honest. I remember being nine and coming home from school to see my mom crying. I never saw my mom cry. I remember her asking me, “Megan, what do you do when someone you love is doing something you don’t want them to do?” It was then she explained to me Pep’s transition. I felt instantly older (and it wasn’t just because of my new bra) as she told me about her hurt in losing her mother, in her fear of now losing her father. Later, now, as I talk to my mom about this moment and we look back, she tells me, “Love is messy.” Especially in the beginning, especially when surrounded by change that scared us, especially when we mistook our lack of understanding for hurt.

But in the end, this was not our hurt to bear. Pep had spent a lifetime in a body she didn’t belong. Pep had carried burdens we could only begin to understand. No one chooses to go through painful surgeries, through ridicule, through difficult transitions if they don’t have to. No one chooses to be transgendered. Who are we to be hurt when Pep lived in pain for so long? 

So instead of turning to judgment, our family worked to understand. My parents read memoirs and watched Oprah specials from people who went through the transition themselves. While I was more of an observer than a participant in this process, my mom always worked to help me understand what Pep was going through and how the transition would help Pep finally feel like her authentic, true self. We used to joke that there was no children’s’ book for “So Your Grandparent is Transgendered.” Love is never about judgment or scorn. Love is always about finding compassion for those who are dear to us, those who carry burdens we can only begin to imagine.

Love is also about being brave. Perhaps this was the hardest part for me. Because I was nine and words like “transgendered” and “sex change” were the sort of terms my friends found in their health class textbooks and gawked at. I had no clue how to communicate this experience to my friends. I had no clue how to stand up for Pep. My mom’s strength and bravery was my example. I remember one day my best friend was in the car with me on our way to ballet class (we must have been ten at the time) and she made a remark that she had just found out about transgendered people and was shocked that they existed. I was mortified; terrified my friends would find out and gawk at me and my family too. But instead, my mom gracefully explained to my friend the struggle that transgendered people face. The way she stood up for her family and educated over shying away from the topic. It would be years until I worked up the courage to educate my friends about Pep and her struggle, but it was never met with hostility, but rather understanding from each of my friends. In a similar way, Pep worked to advocate for young people who were struggling with their transgendered identity. She spoke to support groups and even spoke with people’s families if they struggled with accepting their transgendered kids.

Pep died my junior year of high school. She was remembered as a distinguished professor, a world traveler, a renowned train historian who had started a museum, an extraordinary writer, and a loving parent and grandparent. All my friends attended, no one afraid to comfort and mourn.  There was no one there who was gawking, or giggling, or judging. It was a celebration of an accomplished life well lived.

We are all on journeys of love and understanding for those around us. God constantly asks us to be our most loving selves. It breaks my heart when I read news articles about families who, under a pretense of being Christian, kick their kids out of the house because they are gay or transgendered- because there is nothing less God-like, less loving. Christ-like love comes from accepting every part of a person, from loving all that they are in the most genuine way. Love is never exclusive, it is something that is always expanding, embracing, and connecting us together. God is love and is always calling us to this.

I feel privileged that I was so lucky to have my beautiful, brave family to teach me love and acceptance at a young age. I feel honored to have had such strong role models of Christ-like love. I am grateful for my journeys in love and I pray for the ones you may take, too.

Practices in Gratitude

A few weeks back, I wrote about my decision to change my inner negativity and to finally see myself with the same love in which God sees me. I realized changing my inner voice was a powerful first step, but that if I really wanted to get on top of my stress and negativity, I needed to do more.

The first step was going to the doctor to finally figure out why I was so tired all the time. Turns out I am anemic. The good news is with the help of some little iron pills, I will no longer be on what I called “Team Sleep.” Less fatigue means more energy for schoolwork, but that doesn’t take away the stress or the poor way I was dealing with it. So I decided to enroll in the Koru course offered at the McDonald Center for Student Well Being.

The course covers mindfulness and meditation directed for stressed college students. We meet once a week to learn new types of meditation, stress management, and how to develop better habits in these areas. We are given “homework” to practice meditation daily. It’s amazing to see how my mindset changed when I let my brain take a breather. In addition, our homework challenged us to also cultivate habits of gratitude.

Every day we were asked to write down three things we were grateful for. At first it was tricky- “Okay, I’m thankful for coffee… and uh my friends… and maybe SkinnyPop?” But within days of writing down my gratitude and becoming aware of it, my eyes began to open to how everything is a gift. I was gracious for the feeling of a grand jeté during ballet rehearsal, for the excitement of Sunday night skype calls with my sister, and for taco Mondays with my friends. Being intentionally grateful changes how you see your day. Instead of focusing on the negative, you focus on the positive blessings you see each day. In each unfolding of your life, you are challenged to relish in what makes it beautiful.

This concept is even more powerful to us as Catholics. Our lives are shaped by God. Our blessings are given to us by God. In this way, all our gratitude is for God. In taking time to cultivate gratitude, we are taking time to praise God in thanksgiving. In taking time to notice the gifts all around us, we are taking time to notice the way God is all around us. Gratitude gives us the daily opportunity to rediscover the awe we have for God. A God who knows how to brighten our evening with a beautiful sunset, stimulate our afternoon with a rich over lunch, or calm a late-night study session with the peace of a warm cup of tea. In the end, each piece of gratitude is gratitude for God.

So how do we cultivate these attitudes of gratitude? How do we live lives of thanksgiving? It is all about creating habits that challenge you to remain grateful daily. Ready? Here are some ideas:

·      Write, write, write. Get a pretty notebook. Get a really nice pen. Write a huge list, add to it daily. Don’t stress about what you write down. Some days you might have tons of things, some days you might have just a few. Wherever you are is where you are meant to be.

·      Make a playlist that reminds you what it means to be grateful. Don’t have time? Listen my own gratitude playlist (link)! Put it on as you walk to class or dinner, or as you drink some Earl Grey and close your eyes- use this time to think about what you are grateful for today.

·      Make a gratitude collage. A few weeks ago I wrote about my own, which is definitely an awesome option if you have a free wall. You can also make a quick collage at Polyvore (link). It doesn’t take long to make, but it can help center you on what you are grateful for right now.

·      Give back to those you are grateful for. Random acts of kindness are perfect ways to give to strangers and I highly encourage it. But also don’t forget to honor those who make your life better with simple acts of gratitude. This (link) article has great examples.

·      Read poetry on gratitude. As an English major, I love finding inspiration in literature. Reading poetry about gratitude helps slow mybody down and requires me to focus on what I am reading and what it means. Try Ode to Thanks (link) by Pablo Neruda, Slant (link) by Suji Kwock Kim, or An honest Tear (link) by Emily Dickenson. Need more? Check out this list (link).

·      Get the app. Do you have trouble remembering to do things without your phone to remind you? I totally get it. Luckily, there are apps to help you cultivate gratitude. This (like) awesome app even lets you upload pictures of things that made you gracious each day and records it in a calendar.

·      Take part in gratitude meditation. Spend time praying and reflecting on the things you are grateful for. You can do this in adoration, or you can do this in the silence of your dorm room. You can even use a guided meditation, such as this one (link), to find God’s light within your thanksgiving.

The most important part of developing the habit is acceptance. If you miss a day or only have a small entry- that’s okay. Don’t let gratitude become part of the stress or negativity in your life. Let it be the release.

It will be easy to think about gratitude this week, when it’s Thanksgiving and all around us people are asking, “What are you thankful for?” But the true benefits of gratitude come when it goes beyond a single day and becomes part of your lifestyle. Starting here and now, decide to live a life of gratitude.