Most difficult peace with ourselves

My claim to fame – meeting and talking with Brian “Head” Welch from Korn. I was never a huge fan. I could not relate to their darkness and anger and even less to the destructive lifestyle, but few years ago I heard Head perform his solo album “Save me from myself“.

Talk about a story of redemption! Now two books later, re-joined with Korn and traveling the world with a very different kind of message – one of brokenness, hope and more humility – Head caused some controversy when he reacted emotionally to the death of his good friend, Chester Bennington of Linkin Park. On Facebook page he wrote “Honestly, Chester’s an old friend who we’ve hung with many times, and I have friends who are extremely close to him, but this is truly pissing me off! How can these guys send this message to their kids and fans?! I’m sick of this suicide shit! I’ve battled depression/mental illness, and I’m trying to be sympathetic, but it’s hard when you’re pissed! Enough is enough! Giving up on your kids, fans, and life is the cowardly way out!!!

I’m sorry, I know meds and/or alcohol may have been involved, I’m just processing like all of us and I know we are all having some of the same thoughts/feelings. Lord, take Chester in your arms and please re-unite him with his family and all of us one day. Be with his wife and kids with your grace during this difficult time.” Later he added, “I didn’t mean to sound insensitive about Chester. Just dealing with a range of emotions today. Love you Chester. I’m pissed that you did this, but I know this could have been me back in the day after getting wasted one night.”

That’s just it. It could have been Brian Welch, it could have been me, it could be many people I know. We come from very different worlds and backgrounds but there is something we all experience and struggle  with. The ability to forgive yourself or even harder – to love yourself. Self-hate and self-rejection, in whatever form it comes, is one of the most common human experiences. I have never had to battle a serious depression, mental issues and have been fortunate to avoid lots of self-destruction but I do know what I have felt or thought many times looking in the mirror or reflecting on my innermost thoughts and motives and past actions.

There is something else Head and I have in common – we are pursuing peace with ourselves, others and God. Started following the way of Jesus in very different circumstances but with the same desperate need – to be saved from ourselves. To be saved from my pride, selfishness and self-loathing among other things. We want peace in the world but this personal inner peace is the most elusive. To love your neighbor is often easier than loving yourself. To love yourself just as you are because you are loved by Someone who knows you even better yourself. To forgive yourself as you forgive others and are forgiven.

I was heartbroken when I heard of Chris Cornell‘s (of Audioslave and Soundgarden) death in May. Why did I cry and listen to his songs again? Besides coming from the grunge scene, why did it feel so personal? Yes, I liked all the bands he was in and I absolutely loved his vocal talent. More than that – I was touched by the lyrics Chris wrote. He had a special gift for raw poetry. I think of all “Audioslave” fans who have sung along these lines “You gave me life, now show me how to live… And in your waiting hands, I will land, and roll out of my skin”

Yesterday I was driving across the state of Minnesota and all radio stations were playing Linkin Park. The one I did not hear and my favorite is “What I’ve Done“. I really like the official video and the lyrics,

“So let mercy come
And wash away
What I’ve done

I’ll face myself
To cross out what I’ve become
Erase myself
And let go of what I’ve done

Put to rest
What you thought of me
While I clean this slate
With the hands of uncertainty

I start again
And whatever pain may come
Today this ends
I’m forgiving what I’ve done”

I pray for comfort to those who mourn the death of their idols, friends, family, parents, sons, daughters! And I understand the overwhelming emotions Head expressed when you want to say to dear friends… I don’t wish you to “rest in peace”. I wish you to “live in peace”.

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Brian “Head” Welch from Korn and Sunny from P.O.D. sharing about their fears, hopes and faith

 

What I learned from pilgrimage of trust in Rīga

Hope is on my mind. Hope is different from simple optimism or positive thinking because hope is living both in the reality of “now and here” and in “not yet and not there yet”. It all depends on the ultimate truth and purpose of life you believe in.

Few weeks ago the capital of Latvia was infused with lots of hope for Europe. ‘Invaded’ by 15,000 young Europeans who came on a pilgrimage. I don’t know what your idea of a pilgrimage is but this is a very unique one. Taizé, an ecumenical Christian community in southern France, has organized these annual New Year’s gatherings for 39 years. They called it “Pilgrimage of trust on earth in Rīga”

It was hard to miss it. The groups of young people everywhere; speaking in all kinds of languages; holding their Rīga maps and looking for venues to attend prayer events, seminars and worship gatherings. The Old Town was packed and the afternoon prayers in the churches were so popular that not everyone could get in.

If you read articles and countless Facebook posts, obviously this was one of the most amazing and unforgettable hospitality experiences for Latvians. To host these thousands in people’s homes is very unusual for our culture. Latvians are known for being reserved and not quick to trust strangers. Home is for family and close friends. I think we blew our own expectations and perceptions and realized that we are actually much more happy to open our homes and lives than “they” say.

This is one of Taizé communities main goals and visions – to be peace builders through helping people to connect across cultural, social and religious lines. At a time when everyone is concerned and talking about European disunity, challenges and possible disintegration, this gathering was a strong reminder that there are good and unifying things within everyone’s reach. You just have to be willing to go or to welcome. Portugal and Latvia will not seem distant anymore. Protestants and Catholics will not seem closed-minded and exclusive anymore.

I am privileged to work in a very international environment and also I am grateful to have friends from many different church backgrounds – protestant, catholic, orthodox, pentecostal, evangelical… whatever the label. Realizing that for many people this was a first time praying and worshiping together with other church traditions, I appreciate the vision and effort even more.

I was reminded of important truths. For example, the crucial thing of simplicity. We discussed how to “simplify our lives in order to share”. Whether concerned about environment, poverty, social injustice and conflicts around the world, we all need to learn to live in greater harmony with ourselves and the creation. The prayer booklet said: “Simplicity implies transparency of heart. Although it is not gullible, it refuses to mistrust. It is the opposite of duplicity. It enables us to enter into dialogue, without fear, with everyone we meet.”

What a beautiful way to celebrate New Year, new beginnings, new friends and new revelations! You can sit in front of your TV or computer or iPhone or iPad and get all anxious, mad and hopeless about the state of Europe, charismatic populists, powerful bullies, extreme nationalists or anyone else of this world or you can make (and keep) commitment to simple, generous and peaceful lifestyle… and you will discover a multitude of people on your side!

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Photos from  Taizé website

 

 

 

Have a brave and creative year 2017…

Rīga, Latvia… December 31, 2016 has turned out to be grey and misty. The sun has been hiding for weeks now and the snow is avoiding us, too. I guess there will be no New Year’s Eve sledding or snow ball fights.

I just re-read my first post of this past year and the predictions have come true. It was a bumpy ride with lots of wear and tear on my absorption capabilities. It became more and more uncomfortable as the year went on and I started reacting to the turns and twists more acutely. So, I am glad that 2016 is over even though for me personally it has been another incredibly adventurous journey. New places, new people, new lessons learned, new challenges – all the things I love about life.

But there was this cloud over my world. I would like to say ‘over the Western world’ but I think it has been a truly global feeling. That something has changed and ‘status quo’ is gone. That something got broken or twisted or even turned upside down. Most of us thought it was broken before but the glue was still holding. Suddenly the cracks were too many and truly tectonic shifts took place. I am not talking only about European and US political dramas; the tragedy in war in Syria and Ukraine; the big-mouth president in Philippines who believes in violence, not justice; the continued ethnic cleansing of Rohingya people; terrorist attacks or other ‘highlights’ of this year.

I am neither ‘gloom and doom’ person nor ‘happy go lucky’. I would like to think of myself as a realist who knows that lots of things are not as good and worthy as they seem but at the same time there is much more hope and love and peace and joy and good than we perceive.

Difficult, hard, even bad times are very important. I cannot be truly human without it. I cannot have compassion and generosity and gratitude and courage and determination if I don’t face the prospect of losing it all. If I don’t accept the frailty of my 92 year grandmother who is experiencing dementia and simply old age, I cannot love and support her in a way that she needs. If I don’t don’t accept the fact that people can and will start conflicts and wars and prefer violence over justice, I will take peace for granted and I will see it slip away.

Honestly I had many gloomy days this year. Many times my emotions were either too high (anger, frustration, disgust) or too low (indifference, discouragement, weariness). My view of humanity was fluctuating, too. I knew that this was not helping anyone and myself in the least. I felt unsettled but the good news is – I always had an anchor to hold onto.

“Faith is a simple trust in God. It does not offer ready-made answers, but makes it possible for us not to be paralyzed by fear or discouragement. It leads us to get involved, and sets us on the road. Through it we realize that the Gospel opens a vast horizon of hope beyond all our hopes.

This hope is not a facile optimism that shuts eyes to reality, but an anchor cast into God. It is creativity. Signs of it are already found in the most unhoped-for places on earth.” These are words from a small brochure printed for Taizé ecumenical gathering in Rīga which is taking place this week.

So, here is my New Year’s resolution… I want to be brave and creative! And I have hope because of God’s unlimited resources of truth and justice and grace!

Attēlu rezultāti vaicājumam “fireworks riga new year photos”

Best wishes from Riga! (photo from internet)

Latvian:

Rīga, Latvija… 2016. gada 31. decembris izrādījies pelēks un apmācies. Tāds ne šis, ne tas. Saule paslēpusies jau vairākas nedēļas, un sniegs mums arī gājis ar līkumu. Nebūs ne Vecgada vakara ragaviņu, ne pikošanās.

Tikko pārlasīju savu pirmo bloga ierakstu šajā aizejošajā gadā, un prognozes piepildījās. Gads bija diezgan traks, sakratīja ne pa jokam, un manas amortizācijas spējas tika pamatīgi pārbaudītas un noberztas. Jo tālāk, jo nēērtāk, līdz sāku reaģēt uz pagriezieniem un bedrēm arvien jūtīgāk. Tāpēc priecājos, ka 2016-tais ir beidzies, lai gan personīgajā dzīvē bija tik daudz kā forša. Jaunas vietas, jauni draugi, jauni izaicinājumi un jaunas dzīves atziņas – viss, kas man tik ļoti patīk.

Bet pāri manai pasaulei bija kaut kāds liels, drūms mākonis. Gribētos domāt, ka tas pārklāja konkrēti Rietumu pasauli, bet visticamāk šī sajūta bija universāla. Ka vēsture tiek rakstīta mūsu acu priekšā, un mēs knapi spējam pāršķirt lappuses. Ka kaut kas ir salūzis, aizgājis pa pieskari, apgriezies ar kājām gaisā vai nogājis no sliedēm (epitetus var atrast daudz un dažādus).  Liela daļa jau sen zināja, ka pieņemtajai lietu kārtībai ir milzīgi un bīstami defekti, bet līme vēl turēja. Pēkšņi spiediens kļuva pārāk liels, un plaisas aiziet uz visām pusēm. Es nerunāju tikai par Eiropas un ASV politiskajām drāmām; kara šausmām Sīrijā un Ukrainā; balamuti prezidentu Filipīnās, kuram patīk vardarbība, nevis taisnīgums un tiesiskums; etnisko tīrīšanu Mjanmā; teroristu uzbrukumus un citiem gada ‘spilgtākajiem’ notikumiem.

Neesmu ne pārliecināta pesimiste, ne nelabojama optimiste. Ceru, ka esmu reāliste, kura saprot, ka ne viss ir tik jauks, vērtīgs un vajadzīgs kā tiek reklamēts. Un ne viss ir tik bezcerīgs, tukšs un bezjēdzīgs kā izliekas. Pasaulē ir daudz vairāk cerības, mīlestības, prieka un labprātības kā mēs spējam aptvert.

Grūti, sarežģīti, pat slikti brīži ir ļoti svarīgi. Bez tiem es nespētu būt cilvēcīga. Žēlsirdība, dāsnums, pateicība, drosme, nepadošanās man rodas tad, kad zinu, ko varu zaudēt un cik ātri to visu var zaudēt. Ja es neskatītos patiesībai acīs redzot, kā mana vecmamma 92 gadu vecumā piedzīvo demenci, trauslumu un vienkārši novecošanu, es nespētu par viņu labi rūpēties. Ja es noliegtu patiesību, ka cilvēki spēj un pat grib izraisīt asus konfliktus un karus un izvēlas vardarbību taisnīguma vietā, es nedomātu par mieru, un cik neatlaidīgi tas jākopj un jākultivē.

Atzīstos, ka šogad piedzīvoju daudzas drūmas un pelēkas dienas. Pārāk bieži manas emocijas bija vai nu sakāpinātas (dusmas, aizkaitinājums, pat pretīgums), vai arī atsaldētas (vienaldzība, neizlēmība, pagurums). Arī mans skats uz cilvēci staigāja kā dzīvsudrabs pa termometra stabiņu. Apzinājos, ka nevienam no tā labāk nepaliks, it sevišķi jau man pašai. Biju sašūpināta, bet labā ziņa ir tāda, ka nekad nejutos atrāvusies no sava enkura.

“Ticība ir vienkārša paļāvība uz Dievu. Tā nesniedz gatavas atbildes, taču ļauj mums nesastingt mazdūšības bailēs. Tā aicina mūs iesaistīties un sagatavo mūs ceļam. Caur ticību mēs atskāršam, ka Evanģēlijs atklāj plašu apvārsni tādai cerībai, kas pārsniedz visas cerības.

Šī cerība nav vienkāršs optimisms, kas piever acis īstenības priekšā, bet gan Dievā mests enkurs. Tā ir radoša. Tās zīmes jau saskatāmas visnecerētākajās zemes vietās.” Šis citāts nāk no Taizē jauniešu tikšanās bukletiņa.

Te nu ir mana Jaunā gada apņemšanās… es gribu būt drosmīga un radoša! Un esmu cerības pilna, jo Dievam ir neizsmeļami resursi patiesībā, taisnīgumā un žēlastībā!

 

I am so sorry, Aleppo

This is about Syria and it is not about Syria; this is about politics and it is not about politics; this is about global challenges and it is not about global challenges; this is about the world’s reaction but it is not about the world.

This is about my own feelings in regards to what is going on in Aleppo. I feel sad. I feel angry. I feel helpless, overwhelmed, disillusioned… and many more things.

Last week I wrote to a friend who has studied political science and understands a lot about the UN.. I knew that he would not be able to give me simple answers but I was desperate to ask. Any ideas on how to end this tragedy and madness? So much has been said, but what else can be done?

The answer was as expected: “You have many good questions! I think the people who can answer those questions should step forward immediately! Unfortunately, it’s not so easy.” His last comment was: “The only solution I can see is for more cooperation at the international level and for a coalition of willing and able countries to intervene in some way to stop the atrocities taking place in Syria right now, but it is hard to imagine how that practically could be realized.”

We see the difficulties and current challenges in the international framework. I was watching an interview with Latvia’s ambassador to NATO, Indulis Bērziņš, and he kept repeating that anyone who could come up with a solution for the war in Syria would be awarded Nobel Peace Prize immediately.

So, here we are. I could probably listen to endless interviews, read many articles, watch TV programs around the world and get the same message. “Since the beginning of the offensive by the regime and its allies, notably Russia, the intensity and scale of the aerial bombardment of eastern Aleppo is clearly disproportionate,” an official EU statement said. … The deliberate targeting of hospitals, medical personnel, schools and essential infrastructure, as well as the use of barrel bombs, cluster bombs and chemical weapons, constitute a catastrophic escalation of the conflict … and may amount to war crimes.”

Meanwhile the people are dying and the eastern part of Aleppo is evaporating in front of the world’s eyes.

I don’t have any easy answers either. I know that aid agencies , volunteers (like Partners Relief & Development) and many many people in Syria and from other parts of the world are doing everything they can to help. I know that many of the wonderful, heroic, sacrificial stories don’t get reported. I know that the real situation is much different than our news can show. I have been on “the other side” of the TV screen (not in Aleppo though).

What I have are friends from Syria who live in safety and peace in Riga, Latvia but who still have family back in Aleppo. Every time I see them I think of their families, their former home and beloved city. What if this was Riga! Boom, there goes Teika! Boom, there goes Jugla… and the people who lived there.

Maybe this post will get some responses with your thoughts. Of course, I believe in prayer but I also believe in resistance to injustice. And I have a strong sense that we, the global neighbors, are failing Syria.

Today I simply want to say… I am so sorry, Aleppo

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Friends in Riga learning more about Syria (photos from personal archive)

Latvian:

Rakstu par Sīriju, bet runa nav par Sīriju. Rakstu par politiku, bet runa nav par politiku. Rakstu par globālajiem izaicinājumiem, bet runa nav par tiem. Rakstu par pasaules reakciju, bet runa nav par pasauli.

Runa ir par manām sajūtām, domājot par to, kas notiek Alepo. Man sāp sirds. Man ir skumji. Man ir dusmas. Man ir bezspēcības sajūta. Man nav ilūziju, un man trūkst vārdu.

Pagājšnedēļ es aizrakstīju kādam labam draugam ārzemēs, kurš ir jauns politiķis, un diezgan labi pazīst Apvienoto Nāciju Organizāciju. Es zināju, ka viņš nespēs man dot nekādas vieglas vai skaidras atbildes, bet vienkārši gribējās kādam jautāt. Vai ir kādas idejas, kā šo ārprātu tur izbeigt? Tik daudz jau ir teikts, bet ko var darīt?

Atbilde bija tāda, kādu biju gaidījusi. “Tev, Inet, ir daudz labu jautājumu. Es domāju, ka tiem cilvēkiem, kuri spēj tos atbildēt, ir jāpiesakās nekavējoties. Diemžēl nav tik vienkārši.” Beigās viņš vēl piebilda: “Vienīgais veids, ko es redzu, ir lielāka sadarbība starptautiskā līmenī, un to valstu koalīcija, kuras spēj un tiešām grib izbeigt šīs briesmu lietas, kas patlaban notiek Sīrijā. Taču ir grūti iedomāties, kā tas varētu īstenoties praktiski.”

Mēs jau redzam, kā tas praktiski neīstenojas. Skatījos LTV interviju ar Induli Bērziņu, kurš NATO pārstāv Latviju, un viņš vismaz divas reizes atkārtoja to pašu. Sakot, ja kādam rastos risinājums Sīrijas kara izbeigšanai, tam vajadzētu tūlīt pat piešķirt Nobela Miera prēmiju.

Te nu mēs esam. 17. oktobrī bija oficiāls Eiropas Savienības paziņojums, ka “ES pauž sašutumu par situāciju Sīrijā, kas turpina pasliktināties. Pieaugošā vardarbība Alepo rada nepieredzētas un nepieņemamas ciešanas tūkstošiem tās iedzīvotāju. Kopš režīms un tā sabiedrotie, jo īpaši Krievija, ir sākuši ofensīvu, Alepo austrumu daļas bombardēšanas no gaisa intensitāte un mērogs ir acīmredzami nesamērīgs, un tīši uzbrukumi slimnīcām, medicīniskajam personālam, skolām un ļoti svarīgai infrastruktūrai, kā arī tvertņveida bumbu, kasešu bumbu un ķīmisko ieroču izmantošana katastrofāli saasina konfliktu, un tie ir radījuši vēl plašāka mēroga civiliedzīvotāju upurus, tostarp starp sievietēm un bērniem, un tos var pielīdzināt kara noziegumiem.

Galvenā atbildība par Sīrijas iedzīvotāju aizsardzību ir Sīrijas režīmam. Tāpēc ES stingri nosoda režīma un tā sabiedroto pārmērīgos un nesamērīgos uzbrukumus. … ES pauž nožēlu par Krievijas 8. oktobrī pausto veto ANO Drošības padomes rezolūcijai, kuras līdzautori ir visas ES dalībvalstis un kuras mērķis ir atjaunot karadarbības pārtraukšanu un ļaut humānās palīdzības sniedzējiem piekļūt Alepo.”

Cilvēki turpina mirt, un Alepo austrumu daļa pārvēršas pilnīgos pelnos.

Man arī nav atbildes. Es zinu, ka daudzi – gan organizācijas, gan brīvprātīgie, gan paši Sīrijas cilvēki – dara visu, lai palīdzētu. Zinu, ka līdz mums nenonāk lielākā daļa šo stāstu par brīnišķīgajiem, drosmīgajiem un pašaizliedzīgajiem.

Man ir tikai draugi Rīgā, kuri tagad dzīvo mierā un drošībā, bet viņu radinieki ir joprojām Alepo. Katru reizi, kad tiekamies, es domāju par viņu tuviniekiem un agrāk tik skaisto pilsētu. Ja tas viss tagad notiktu Rīgā!? Bumbas, un nav vairs Teikas. Bumbas, un nav vairs Juglas… un tās cilvēku.

Varbūt, ka manas sajūtas izsauks kādu reakciju vai pārdomas arī no jūsu puses. Protams, es ticu lūgšanu spēkam, un cerība arī man nav zudusi, bet es ticu, ka ir jāpretojas netaisnībai. Un man liekas, ka mēs, globālie kaimiņi, esam pievīluši Sīrijas cilvēkus.

Šodien es gribu vienkārši pateikt to, ko latviešu valodā nevar pateikt ar vienu vārdu, kā to var angļu valodā… I am so sorry, Aleppo. Man ir tik ļoti žēl, Alepo, ka šī netaisnība turpinās.

 

 

Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes…

I miss her. Today, October 8, is her birthday and I miss going to her home, having a nice home cooked meal, watching some silly TV programs, talking about anything and everything, watching her laugh so easily… so many ordinary things that she made special.

My mom passed away a few years ago. Today she would have turned 67 and we celebrate her life. Without her physical presence but not without her love and legacy. I think about her very often and I know that her imprint is all over my life. I am who I am because she was.

Apostle Paul wrote one of the most beautiful passages about love. “Love is patient, love is kind…” My mom was both of these things. It just came to her naturally. She was even kind in my teenage years when my “normal” state was to be mean, sarcastic and arrogant. I have no idea how she did it.

Love always protects… Mom was a very petite woman but at moments she seemed larger than life. I remember her getting so mad at an older man who was threatening to spank me and my brother. Actually we had gotten ourselves in trouble because we had climbed over a tall fence to steal some flowers from his flower-bed.  We got caught and the old man was so angry. Then our mom leaned outside the window, yelled at the guy and threatened to come downstairs. I remember watching in amazement how this tall, big guy became so meek and changed his tone and even gave us some candy.

Love always trusts… Even when I was not trustworthy. Even when I lied and cheated. Even when things were going hard for my other siblings and there were many reasons for discouragement and disappointment. Something we always felt, never doubted and knew deep inside was that our mom trusts us. Trusts us to make good decisions, trusts us to have adventures and to explore, trusts us to grow up and live well.

“peaceroads” is a big tribute to her life. My mom was a peacemaker. Of course, she was not perfect and she made many mistakes in her relationships. Still, she showed me how to acknowledge the truth, how to repent and apologize, how to reach out and how to hope for reconciliation.

Love always hopes…

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Until we meet again (photos from personal archive)

 

 

Shape of my heart

September 21 is the International Day of Peace. So, what? The world does not seem very peaceful; many relationships strained or broken; armed conflicts and rumors of wars in too many places; resources and environment being fought over; refugees in millions; fundamentalists clashing with libertarians; anxiety and fear in the headlines; elections becoming so divisive for societies… should I go on?

“Peace” has become such a cheap word. “Peace” sign can be such a cliche. “Peace agreements” look like a joke. “Peace building” often feels impossible and futile. It reminds me of the ancient prophet Jeremiah who said, “They offer superficial treatments for my people’s mortal wound. They give assurances of peace when there is no peace.

There comes a moment when you become still and start to think  – where does peace start? It seems that we are good at “ceasefires” but where is the source of true peace? Where does the will and the choice and the ability to be peaceful come from?

Few years ago in a group of friends we wrote a song, “Where does peace start? With God enlarging my heart!” I want to quote one of my favorite authors on spirituality and relationships, Henri J.M. Nouwen. He wrote that “We tend to run around trying to solve the problems of our world while anxiously avoiding confrontation with the reality wherein our problems find their deepest roots: our own selves. … To build a better world, the beginnings of that world must be visible in daily life. … We cannot speak about ways to bring about peace and freedom if we cannot draw from our own experiences of peace and freedom here and now.” (“Creative Ministry”)

I realized this early in own my journey. One friend from Thailand-Burma border sent me an-mail some years ago. “I like this subject of peace very much but I feel that a trainer of the course should have a clear mind. I am good at solving other one’s conflict (I think) but I myself am violent.” His honesty made me look at my own heart and my daily interactions. There are many stories to tell of what I have experienced.

We would like to think of ourselves as open-minded, friendly, inclusive, welcoming, accepting, non-judgmental, reaching out, respectful, humble but these ideas get tested daily and how often we fail the test. Like H. Nouwen said, it is the “here and now “that matters the most.

I realize that I started a subject that is too deep and too wide for this blog but I wanted to remind myself that peace starts with me. Peace with God, with myself, with others and with the created order. How to have this peace in all these relationships? Well, that’s the real art!

And just because it rhymes and I love this song by British artist Sting:

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that’s not the shape of my heart

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Peaceful place in Latvia (photos from personal archive)

Latvian:

21. septembrī tika atzīmēta Pasaules jeb Starptautiskā miera diena. Nu, un kas par to? Pasaule galīgi neliekas mierīga; visāda veida attiecības sabojātas un salauztas; bruņoti konflikti un kari daudzviet; cīņa par resursiem un strīdi par vides aizsardzību; miljoniem bēgļu; sadursme starp fundametālistiem un libertiāņiem; bailes un satraukums ziņu virsrakstos; vēlēšanas, kas sašķel nācijas… vai vēl turpināt?

“Miers” daudziem ir kļuvis tukšs vārds. “Miera simboli” kļuvuši par klišejām. “Miera sarunas” bieži vien izrādās nenopietnas. “Miera celšana” sāk likties neiespējama un veltīga. Man prātā nāk senā pravieša Jeremijas vārdi: “Tie grib pavirši dziedināt Manas tautas meitas dziļo brūci un saka: miers, miers! – kur taču miera nav.”

Un pienāk brīdis, kad tu apstājies un sāc domāt – no kurienes nāk miers? Mums tik labi padodas “pamieri”, bet kas ir īsta un paliekoša miera avots? Kur rodas griba, vēlēšanās un spēja būt mieru mīlošam un mieru nesošam?

Pirms dažiem gadiem mēs kopā ar draugiem uzrakstījām dziesmu, kuras galvenais jautājums bija, kur sākas miers? Un mēs atbildējām, ka “manā sirdī, kuru maina Dievs.” Gribu citēt vienu no saviem mīļākajiem rakstniekiem un teologiem. Henrijs Nouvens rakstīja, ka “Mēs skrienam apkārt, mēģinot atrisināt pasaules problēmas, bet tajā pašā laikā drudžaini cenšamies izvairīties no konfrontācijas ar mūsu problēmu visdziļāko sakni: sevi pašiem. … Lai veidotu labāku pasauli, šīs pasaules pamatiem ir jābūt mūsu ikdienas dzīvē. … Mēs nevaram runāt par mieru un brīvību, ja mēs nevaram smelties šo mieru un brīvību no savas pieredzes šeit un tagad.” (no grāmatas “Radoša kalpošana”)

Šī vienkāršā patiesība man atklājās pamazām. Pirms dažiem gadiem kāds draugs no Taizemes – Birmas pierobežas atsūtīja e-pastu. “Man ļoti patīk miera tēma, bet man liekas, ka šīs tēmas pasniedzējam jābūt ar skaidru prātu. Man pašam izdodas risināt citu cilvēku konfliktus (vismaz tā šķiet), bet pats esmu diezgan vardarbīgs.” Viņa atklātība lika man padomāt pašai par sevi, ielūkoties savās sirdī un savās ikdienas lietās. Te būtu daudz ko stāstīt par pieredzēto.

Mums gribētos domāt, ka esam ļoti atvērti, ar plašu domāšanu, iekļaujoši, laipni, viesmīlīgi, nenosodoši, cieņpilni, pazemīgi, utt, bet šie pieņēmumi tiek pārbaudīti katru dienu, un tik bieži mēs neizturam šos pārbaudījumus. Kā jau Henrijs Nouvens teica, vissvarīgākā ir mana pieredze “šeit un tagad”.

Apzinos, ka esmu pieskārusies tēmai, kas ir pārāk dziļa un pārāk plaša šim blogam, bet gribējās atgādināt pašai sev, ka miers sākas ar mani. Miers ar Dievu, miers ar sevi, miers ar citiem un miers ar pārējo radīto pasauli. Kā šo mieru iegūt un paturēt? Tas jau ir tas lielais jautājums un dzīves māksla!

Un vienkārši tāpēc, ka man patīk Stinga mūzika, viens neliels citāts no dziesmas “Manas sirds veidols”

Es zinu, ka pīķi ir kareivja iesmi
Es zinu, ka kreici ir ieroči karam
Es zinu, ka kāravi apmaksā to
Bet manas sirds veidols tas nav

Hello, Ukraine… finally

I keep a diary. Yesterday I read some of the things written down in last two years and countless times it mentions Ukraine.

Ukraine has been and still is on my heart. I have friends from Ukraine, I like Ukrainian food, I visited Ukraine as a teenager with my family, I love Ukrainian sunshine and for me it is more than just another world headline. It is a place which is not far from Latvia. It is a place which inspires and challenges and worries us. It is a place which I was finally able to visit again.

The stops were Kyiv – Lutsk – Kyiv. I cannot speak Ukrainian but it helps to know Russian. Especially when you have to catch an express bus in a very busy Kyiv station where an average foreign visitor could get very confused and stressed. There is this strange feeling that I have done this before – familiar vibe and familiar behaviour of bus drivers. Something that is hard to explain to those who did not grow up in the Soviet Union. For example, the feeling that buying food from some places is like asking for a favour. These two guys were just standing and playing on their phones and almost nothing on the menu was available.

The kind of small things which annoy but also help me to feel like an “insider”. A foreigner who does not have a culture shock. In a strange way I find it endearing. One thing that my American husband noticed right away was how serious and tired many people looked. Again this frown on people’s faces and hurried walk – so familiar.

Then the beautiful countryside of Ukraine and surprisingly nice, new highway from Kyiv to Lutsk. And the sunflower fields!!! The camera cannot capture the feeling. You get reminded of how huge this country is – the biggest one in Europe.

Understandably some people wonder – was it safe? This question is always interesting. Where is it safe? Some of my most uncomfortable moments have been in Latvia and the USA. But I know what they mean. They mean the war. Isn’t it dangerous to go to Ukraine now? Yes, it is but only if you go the southeastern part where the fighting continues. In comparison it is a very small area of the country and for most people the life is absolutely safe.

It does not mean that life is easy. Even though I went to a music festival where people relaxed and enjoyed themselves as much as any other festival in Latvia, Germany, Thailand or elsewhere, there are constant reminders that all is not well. In fact, it is very very difficult and people are struggling with discouragement and disappointment.

More on this topic later but I want to finish with one little story. In Lutsk I met a taxi driver who said some wise words (from my experience taxi drivers tend to do that). He did not speak English, we did not speak Ukrainian, so again he was glad that we had one language in common – Russian. His comment was like this: “During the USSR days, we all had to speak Russian. Now many people say that I should speak only Ukrainian. I don’t care – Ukrainian, Russian, English, Spanish… as long as we talk to each other kindly as human beings.”

DSCN3776

This is how Lutsk rolls… Walking street named after a famous Ukrainian poet, Lesya Ukrainka

Latvian:

Es rakstu dienasgrāmatu. Jau kopš pusaudzes gadiem. Šonedēļ sāku pārlasīt pēdējo divu gadu ierakstus, un neskaitāmas reizes pieminēta Ukraina.

Ukraina man jau sen ir prātā. Tur ir draugi; man garšo ukraiņu ēdiens; esmu bijusi bērnībā Krimā kopā ar ģimeni; man patīk Ukrainas saule. Ukraina nav tikai ziņu virsraksts. Turklāt tā ir tuvu Latvijai. Biju priecīga par iespēju aizbraukt uz turieni augustā.

Brauciena maršruts Kijeva – Lucka – Kijeva. Kaut gan ukraiņu valodu neprotu, labi, ka noder krievu. It īpaši Kijevas centrālajā stacijā, kur meklēju eksprešus, kas brauc uz Lucku. Vidusmēra tūrists tur apjuktu un būtu lielā stresā. Man bija tāda sajūta, it kā es šeit jau būtu bijusi. Pazīstama atmosfēra, pazīstama šoferu izturēšanās. Viss notiek ātri, mazliet agresīvi, bez lielas laipnības. Gribi, brauc; negribi, nebrauc.

Tiem, kas nav dzimuši un dzīvojuši bijušajā PSRS, šīs lietas galīgi nav saprotamas un pieņemamas. Piemēram, sajūta, ka pērkot ēdienu tev gandrīz jālūdz, lai apkalpo. Divi džeki bija tik aizņemti ar saviem telefoniem,  un pacēla acis vienīgi, lai pateiktu, ka gandrīz viss, kas tiek reklamēts, jau ir izpirkts.

Šīs mazās nianses, kas var kaitināt, man palīdz justies kā “savējai”. Ārzemniecei, kurai nav kultūršoks. Savā ziņā tas pat palīdz nodibināt ātru saikni ar šo valsti. Viens, ko mans vīrs, amerikānis būdams, uzreiz ievēroja, cik nopietni, pat drūmi, un steidzīgi bija vietējie. Un man atkal ir šī pazīstamā sajūta, jo Rīgā jau nav daudz savādāk.

Pa ceļam vērojot Ukrainas ainavu, atliek vien izbaudīt. Pat šoseja no Kijevas uz Lucku bija pārsteidzoši jauna un laba ar vairākām joslām. Un tad skaistie saulespuķu lauki. Fotokamera nevar noķert to mirkli un sajūtu. Arī apziņu, ka esi vienā ļoti lielā valstī. Visplašākā valsts Eiropā.

Bija draugi, kas vaicāja – vai tad tur bija droši? Tas vienmēr ir neviennozīmīgs jautājums. Kur tad ir droši? Mani paši nepatīkamākie atgadījumi ir bijuši Latvijā un ASV. Taču es saprotu draugu rūpes. Viņi runā par karu. Vai Ukrainā ir droši? Lielākajā valsts daļā ir.

Bet tas nenozīmē, ka ir viegli. Kaut arī vairākas dienas biju mūzikas festivālā, kur cilvēki atpūšas un bauda brīvo laiku un izklaidi, uz katra stūra ir atgādinājumi, ka valstī neiet labi. Ir ļoti grūti, un cilvēkus ir pārņēmis diezgan liels pesimisms un vilšanās sajūta.

Par šo tēmu es vēl uzrakstīšu, bet šoreiz beigšu ar vienu brīnišķīgu epizodi. Luckā mēs satikām taksometra šoferi, kurš teica viedus vārdus (man ļoti bieži gadās tādi gudri un filozofiski taksometristi). Viņš neprata angļu valodu, mēs ne vārda pa ukrainiski, tāpēc atkal noderēja kopīgi zināmā krievu valoda. Viņa komentārs bija šāds: “Agrāk padomju laikā mūs visus spieda runāt krieviski. Tagad man saka, lai runāju tikai ukrainiski. Man vienalga, kādā valodā – ukrainiski, krieviski, angliski, spāniski, bet galvenais, lai runājam cilvēciski (по-человечески).”