Vieni qua! December 7, 2008

I spent last semester studying in Milan, Italy and it was quite possibly the most inspiring four months I have yet to live in this life. I cannot quite explain what it was, but being constantly surrounded by newness and doing something completely uncharacteristic of me (risking my comfort zone) was quite possibly the best thing I’ve ever done. And it changed me in a lot of ways (in a good way).

I lived about a ten minute walk from where I went to school, so every morning I made my way through the bustling, cigarette smoke-filled, Italian-lined, gorgeous streets of Milan. One morning I remember in particular. I was walking along behind a mother and her two children, a brother and sister. They were both about the same age and they ran down the street hand in hand. Their mother trailed behind them wheeling her vintage bicycle, complete with designer purse in its basket. The two children would run ahead from their mother, giggling all the way. The mother yelled,
“Alberto! Vieni qua!” (Alberto! You come here!). And like every breath of the Italian language it rang in my ears and my heart, delighting the part of me that longs for it to inhabit my own mind and tongue.

She kept yelling down the street, “Alberto! Alberto!” and he would continue to run ahead with his sister and come back to his mother again. What struck me most about her was that she was not getting upset, but rather with each chastisement she also expelled an exuberant laugh. It was as if she were recognizing herself in her children.

Is there really some point where we become completely unrecognizable from the self of our youngest years? I would say yes, but only in the most unfortunate cases. That is not to say that change is a bad thing, I actually have more to say on that later. But there is something that is essentially “us” and should never be lost. This something is that which has been with us since we’ve been on this earth. And that is why I think it is so important to remember that we should always be able to recognize ourselves.

That Italian woman taught me quite a lot in my short walk that morning.

Identity and Language December 3, 2008

Two Sundays ago at mass the homily was particularly inspiring and insightful (something that happens probably a lot more often than I recognize). But it really hit me well because it appealed to a lot of the things I think about life and also in something I had thought about for this blog.

The readings for the day spoke of who would and who would not be welcomed into the kingdom of heaven, depending on how each lives his or her life. For purposes of the manner in which it is best to live your life, this can be applied to any faith, I think. The priest took this theme and applied it to the idea of identity. The discussion was very fruitful for me.

He remarked how important it is to understand identity. Most often and most evident are cultural identities, those which set apart and also bring together different people from different parts of the world. The most obvious differnce between people from different cultures is language. Language has always fascinated me, I wonder what it really is saying. To some degree it is very complicated, but at its foundations it is so natural that it cannot be that complicated. We learn language as children just from being around people employing it. There isn’t a real study involved (besides further grammatical clarifications in grade school). But essentially, language is something we all come to know intimately just by participating. 

What I got from the homily was that the best way to live on this earth is to learn the language of love. And not just learn its grammatical intricacies, but instead to completely inhabit the words. As children we usually just say what we think, and it is without any walls. We are not worried about saying the wrong thing, because we really only see one way to say things best. I imagine what it’s like when you truly fall in love. When you love someone, the best way to tell them is just to say “I love you.” People often remark about the power of three little words, and it is so true.

Sometimes as we grow older, however, I think we start to believe we need more words. We have this desire to be heard and to explain ourselves. But if we are able to completely inhabit a few words that mean a lot, then there will be no need to hide behind all the others. By engaging in this language of love, then we can all create an identity that can place us amongst everyone. It breaks down the barriers between people that speak English, Spanish, Italian, Japanese, or what have you.