October Days

Reports have come, and they have gone. Retreat has come, and it has gone. And soon October will be gone too, which is why I am adding a blog post! Life in Indonesia is great, as always. The other day I got really excited because I could see a volcano/mountian from my apartment for the first time. The smog usually blocks out any interesting scenery. Hopefully the coming rainy season will clear the skies and provid more opportunities for me to remember that I am not just in some city somewhere. I honestly sometimes forget that I am in Indonesia. Going back and forth to school and to church on the weekends has become such a normal thing, and all the culture is normal too. A few weekends ago, when I was on a spiritual retreat in the mountains with my students, I was reminded of the different aspects of Indonesia and that there are places here that are not always hot and stinky. It was a refreshing break.

Recently, I have been studying poetry with my students. I gave them an assingment to write a poem about themselves: things they are good at or things that they enjoy. They asked me to write a poem to give them inspiration and a better idea of what to do. So I did. It took me an hour, but this past week, when I should have been sleeping, I wrote the poem below. I actually enjoyed writing for myself again and I must say, I could even write another one sometime soon. And here I thought that only music and painting could give me an artistic outlet.


Poem about Me

Twenty sit before me, yearning to discover;
Within each are unique talents—perhaps concealed gifts—
Growing, waiting, and anticipating their chance
To be revealed to the world and revolutionize it.

Here I stand, faced with the same challenge.
Some days are tedious and taxing,
Others are humorous and joyful.
But who I am on this stage is only half the story.

On another stage, I escape reality.
I am old, poor, menacing, or goofy.
Memorizing, practicing, speaking,
And creating the existence of someone else.

Not only this, but the lyrics and tunes of songs,
Both unknown and universal, dance across my soul
and out of my mouth—the instrument of choice—for
the choir, wedding, or bubbles on my shower wall.

For just a moment, I am the greatest musician.
Static and heat course through my fingers;
Though, justice is not served in my attempts
At the scales, notes, and melodies of Mozart or Bach.

With inspiration comes craving to create.
My competitor: Da Vinci, my subject: nature.
The water, flowers, and leaves held captive in oil
Are my greatest joy and simultaneously my greatest discontent

Achievement is instantaneous with the feeling of victory:
a 3-point swish, an un-diggable spike, a skilful goal.
When sweat, cheers, and teammates take their leave,
All that is left are memories and fatigued muscles.


But, the wild scent of raw earth and the sensation of open air
On a mountain summit or ocean shoreline, will never disappoint.
It stirs a feeling of awe deep within,
For none of this was unintended.

Life is more than a game, drama or a song,
And I am more than an artist, explorer, and teacher.
I am the child of an incredible designer,
Whose gifts and talents, none can contend with.

Flawlessness will never be achieved,
But perfection is not what he desires;
Rather, worship and thankfulness.
For he has made me:

Michaela