Saturday, July 26, 2014

hope in a cynical world

Ever since I started this new chapter of my life, which then has brought me here to Haiti, I've been filled with questions. A disarray of them. I'm miles away from not only my original home but also of the several homes I made myself, through time and the generosity of such great people I met along the way.

And I'm not sure at all what I'm here to do. I'm not sure if this new career path is the right one or whether this mission I'm now onto is adding up to where I want to head. I don't really know yet where it's taking me but neither am I absolutely clear of where it is that I really, truly want to go.

And that's ok. That's probably the best setting I could have asked for right now.

Asking questions and living daily in serenity with my questions.

I'm starting to read this book, one which for so long I've meant to read and gotten many great recommendations for. Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainer Maria Rilke.

It has this wonderful quote somewhere there:

"I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."

And today I came into this speech from Jacqueline Novogratz which just fills my heart because at some point her story was so much like mine is unwrapping right now.  

Here's how:

"Three years after starting, I decided to leave the bank and try something different to fill that need.  I had read about Mohammed Yunus who had started making tiny loans to women in Bangladesh a decade earlier – and that inspired me to decide to move to Africa, ultimately, Rwanda, to try my own hand at banking for the poor.
Not surprisingly, it seemed I was the only one I could find who approved of the idea.  My boss told me I was making the worst career decision of my life and gave me a book called the Innocent Anthropologist.  My friends thought I had lost my mind. My little brothers and sisters said they would miss me too much.
Telling my parents, however, was the hardest. Now looking back at what they were going through, I understand. Their daughter, who had a promising career, was leaving Wall Street to move to a continent very few people understood. To a place they couldn’t find on a map. To do something they couldn’t explain to their friends.
But I knew somehow in my deepest being that I had to do it. And that if I didn’t go then, I might never have the guts to do it again.  I also knew how fiercely I loved them and was connected to my family and that I ultimately would not let them down.
And so, with a mix of love, sadness and excited anticipation, I boarded a plane for Africa."
 

"Inspiring hope in a cynical world might be the most radical thing you can possibly do.” Could that really be so?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=fSAxFpfodZ8

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