The State of Having 32 Flavors

Some of my favorite lines of one of my favorite songs of all times:

Squint your eyes and look closer
I’m not between you and your ambition
I am a poster girl with no poster
I am thirty-two flavors and then some
And I’m beyond your peripheral vision
So you might wanna turn your head
-Ani Difranco, 32 Flavors
I’ve had a lotta years to think about why these lyrics resonate with me and I with them. And in various iterations of my life, known as seasons to me, I think they resonate differently. But one thing that I can consistently count on resonating about these lyrics is that they speak to the complexity of the human mind, body, and spirit. And it’s this complexity that attracts my curiosity and wonder, which is why vulnerability works for me. Usually vulnerability [in the appropriate context] provides a window into someone’s complexity. They aren’t just one, two, or even three flavors. They are 32 flavors and THEN SOME!
It’s this capacity for mystery and depth in the human spirit that gives me hope. Hope that our complexity will be nurtured to health by love, and that this will lend itself to creative and compassionate responses to systems that want to keep us simple and un-thinking.
I’ll evade your definition of me every time it’s placed on me. I hope you will too.
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As the Spirit Moves

I think my training in the ways of justice making sometimes leads me to enter a situation with skepticism instead of love. I enter and ask with immediacy, what is the problem/ injustice/sin here? I am on high alert to find that which is not equitable and I often do this at the expense of seeing that which is equitable.

I came to Fiji looking through this lens. Where are the effects of climate change and how can I think about God in the context of a changing climate?

Don’t get me wrong. This is a most necessary question. But when my question precludes my ability to laugh, to smile, to find the love, the laughter, the smiles here, then I am missing half of the picture. I am negating the work of the Spirit. In my pneumotological understanding, the Spirit, works in the world in powerful and mighty ways which resist the Empire. But the Spirit, in its round dance with the Creator and the Son, was, is, and always will be– Love. To forget the work of Love which the Spirit is always doing is to miss most of the picture. And the picture is a beautiful one. To miss it is a shame indeed.

And shame is not something I choose to live in any longer.

Because when we see this work of love, it changes us. Brings forth courage and creativity. It is Spirit work and it connects us to each other and to all of creation.

It is through this lens that I am attempting to write a bit about my experience thus far. It has been filled with love and simultaneous aching because I love. Because I have so much love in Tennessee, I am aching every second I am away from it. And, at the same time, I have come to know my team here of Mimi from N. India, Palesh from Calcutta, Andrew from S. India, Silpa from India, Wesley from the Philippines, Hashan from Sri Lanka, Tamera from Zambia, Vawvawni from Taiwan, and Shalom from S. Korea as Love. They are family. We have had to become family because families care for each other and it takes a lot of care to navigate this intense program. They open me up and remind me that the Spirit works in us and through us as we love each other.

The Spirit moves resisting the Empire and I have seen the Spirit in the fresh fish I have been served as the honored guest of village tables (which are mats); I have seen the Spirit in the children who have graciously and patiently taught the Westerner phrases in Fijian; I have seen the Spirit in the concerned taxi driver who rushed me to the hospital after I was bitten by a dog; I have seen the Spirit as we served each other the milk of the coconut; I have seen the Spirit in the peace-building team working for restorative justice here in Fiji; I have seen the Spirit in the lei I was given at the welcoming ceremony; I have seen Her in the rest that I took; I have heard Her in the choir’s singing and the lolly (drum) ringing; I have seen the Spirit here in the incredible hospitality that I have been extended. I have seen the Spirit here.

The Spirit is here and I would be remiss if I did not take off my lens of skepticism so that I can actually see Her moving.

She’s moving; she’s resisting through Her love in Her mysterious way, calling us to join the work of caring for the creation that the Creator lives in, through, and with.

Can I lean into the work of the Spirit? I am not sure. I know that I need to try though because when I do, I am my best self, the Kate who welcomes love instead of skepticism, the Kate who listens before she analyzes, the Kate who asks Love to be her guide instead of judgement or fear.

Thanks be to God for many chances to get it wrong and a few chances to maybe get it right.