In and out of sacred spaces, we place our things.
We place on our shelves what are meaningful and what we like to see at eye level from time to time.

Our homes are collectively who we are. 
The paint. The cracks. The smells.

I remember my friends houses smelling like their laundry detergent. I had always wondered if my house had a “smell”. Which I assumed after a while that…it did. [I guess kind of like getting used to the smell of your own deodorant.]

A lot of family and friends are in transition right now from place to place. Old homes nurturing new life. A great communion between old and new. 

I contemplate on where I live now. 
I think about the many new radicals that believe just because they go to live in “that” neighborhood, they are a shining light in the world. That maybe, their presence will create lasting change…
I think this assumption can be damaging. Not always to your neighbors, but in a lot of ways, to yourself.
And I am guilty of thinking and living this way during certain times. 

We create this idea that we’re providing a better life just by…living next door. This goes to assume that our neighbors are in need of our “goodness” and our bachelor degrees in various fields that don’t actually provide us with jobs once leaving our hormone filled universities. 

Because we happen to be educated and passionate about change. We are inherently good wherever we go.
But this is where some damage happens. [And I dare not speak upon others, but of my own experience of this..]
Gentrification happens. Prices go up. People are forced to move out. 
It’s imperialistic. To think our presence in a community will help the locals - only to assume that this “change” we originally thought to be good and exciting, is forcing residents of 20 plus years to pick up there things, and move to places they can afford. 

And granted, there are plenty of times when this doesn’t happen. I look at Shane’s community in Philly and how beautifully they’ve planted gardens on rooftops and protested local ammunition stores. But they have also lived there for over a decade and have had countless disasters and have sang many sad songs. 

I come at this conflicted, and do not further want to dig myself into a deeper contradiction. 

But whatever happened to just…living?
I think the older I get and perhaps more experienced at living within cultures of diversity, I see how important it is to live. I don’t believe you have to create a non-profit community center in your first year in order to feel like you belong…but the simple act of respecting the people you live near. 

Simple acts of peace - I dream.

I remember what John Perkins said to Shane as they were sitting on the doorstep on their community home in Philly. Shane stated, “Ya know, it’s been over three years and there isn’t any sign of change…” As John replied, “Oh, you’ll start seeing something in 10 or so years..maybe 12..”

And this is important. To understand what a community needs. 

When you move into a place, you bring who you are. You bring your brokenness. 
You also the see the brokenness of your neighbors. 

The conversations with my neighbors generally take place when they apologize for being drunk and loud or when their dog craps in our small front yard. But, we’ve learned to avoid the mine field of doggy defecation. 

We’ve lived here for over a year now and as far as I’m concerned…

we’re still moving in.