You Are Enough

Beginning where we ended:

(the final blog entry whilst on tour)

Friday 3 January 2014

 

 

This is a story. It is a story about 25 people. The story involves one country. It has been written over 26 days, however it is easy to argue this story commenced long before 8 December 2013. Whether the origins of this story go back 18 months, or alternatively 15, 16, 17, or 18 years is up to the reader's discretion. Likewise, whether the story finishes in just over 36 hours is again open to interpretation. The story is a colourful one, not without its trials and tribulations, but none-the-less full of triumphs as well. And my job within this context? I was the historian who edited this story. 

 

The pages of the story comprise of the words that 22 young men uttered, thoughts that the same 22 individuals bounced around in their heads, and emotions that the chosen 22 felt simmering deep in their core and running wildly through their veins. My task was to attempt to capture these moments and convey them to you in a way that challenged you, the loyal reader, to formulate your own imagery to accompany the narrative. 

 

Tonight I sit with one final, simple, yet agonising, task. As the 22 young men take their last hours of sleep in this, the most turbulent of societies, I will seek to provide some finality, possibly even some closure, to this immersion experience. I fear in advance I will fail though. 

 

It is said that the most powerful histories of the world can be discovered in the collection of stories detailing the lives of good men. The job of an astute historian therefore is to glance back in time and draw out what made the moments these 'good men' walked the earth so relevant to the world today. I was extremely fortunate to be given the ability to observe the lives of 22 subjects for one month, and from the outset I can conclude that they are not good men, but rather, great men, and as a result I am in no doubt the contributions they will make to the world around them will be incredibly influential in the times ahead. So as I seek, for one last time, to convey where we collectively are at as a group right now, along with a sense of where we might venture towards in time to come, please walk with me. And although I sense that I will not lead you to a position of unearthing any grand revelations as you digest the below, I do sincerely hope this final blog provides each of you and your sons with the stimulus for further conversations when he returns into your loving arms within a matter of hours.

 

Finally, in advance please be aware that the combination of below perspectives, frameworks, and quotes are not mine. In an academic setting I would footnote everything I am about to record, for the world has played witness to an abundance of intelligent minds, most of whom have now come and gone, and I most definitely am not one of them. But I will forever consider myself lucky that I have journeyed alongside 22 very talented individuals who will be the future generation of great minds tasked with further unpacking this world we all live in.

 

Over the last month we have stepped outside the world which we knew so intimately and were transported into a completely different realm. This has momentarily made each of us outsiders in both worlds. The beauty about being an outsider however is that you can physically and mentally wander through both old and new realities, accumulating values, customs and traditions from each. In doing so you then have the capacity to morph together new definitions of yourself from the realisations you come to. But now that journey is over and we must return. As one participant put it so aptly, "This year I go home".

 

But where is it that we are returning to? We are heading home; not just to a place where we sleep, but moreover to a place where we stand. Not so much to connect with a piece of soil, but rather to a piece of our soul. We are returning to what the Indian youth would call their 'para', their hood. We are returning to a place where we belong, to our awaiting families, to our paused lives. And as the United Nations formally celebrates the 20th anniversary of the Year of the Family over the next 12 months, what a wonderful time it is to be coming back.

 

And how do we feel about returning? We are relieved and scared, elated and worried, at peace and confused. But you, our blog readers, already have a sense of this, as these 22 young men have risen to the challenge of transforming this blog site into a maze of emotion over the last month. To this end, I sincerely admire each of them. Experiencing India is in itself not an easy undertaking, so when there is an expectation that you will grapple with your own conflicting emotions in such a public blog forum, the pressure intensifies significantly. Therefore such noble efforts in communicating one's inner struggles should be recognised for what they are; an authentic display of courage. Thus my heartfelt appreciation to the boys for having the strength to bring this blog site to life.

 

While over the last few days we have had the ability to sit individually and collectively mulling over how to share what we have seen with those whom we adore back at home, the answers to such questions have been laboured and incomplete. After all, in a society where hope sits alongside despair, how do you summarise what India was like? When compassion dances to the same song as corruption, how do you begin to work out what it all means? In a place where tolerance and fear meet together, how do you formulate your own learnings about people, relationships, and life? And finally, when you observe genuine love and apathy converse as one, how do you answer the question 'where to from here?' None of these questions are comfortable, possibly they are unknowable, but your sons have been asked to sit with them, and importantly to open their web of thoughts and feelings to you. We want these young men to peel away at these questions, whilst fully understanding that this process will take a lifetime, rather than merely a week or a month to digest. It is crucial though that they never peel too hard, nor for too long at a time, as ultimately sometimes the very best end point one can get to is simply to be aware there are questions, and then to smile at the reality of not knowing the answers.

 

So, as your boys return home with many a question, I want to remind you all of the motives for why we came to this foreign landscape in the first place. To do so I wish to call upon the wonderful framework of Brene Brown, who as an accomplished Professor of Social Work has really captured my attention with her research into whole-hearted living. I hope the following articulates our Programme's aims effectively:

 

We wanted the young men entrusted in our care to understand that . . . 

 

1) In our modern world we try to perfect life . . . however life is messy

 

We often run around trying to make the uncertain certain. We often stand back from the chaotic mess of life, opting rather to ‘see’ it from a distance hoping our own comfort won’t be displaced. We constantly desire clear-cut definitions and answers to everything. And we continually attempt to deny that sometimes our private worlds fall apart. In India we were surrounded by uncertainty; dodgy food, dodgy accommodation, and dodgy transport, to name a few. Moreover, we couldn't distance ourselves from the onslaught of millions going about their daily activities with an inspiring industriousness and rigour. We constantly toiled, to no avail, reaching imperfect definitions to explain the meaning of phrases such as 'it works'. And most definitely each of our private worlds fell apart. Through immersing ourselves in all of the above we came to understand that living involves suffering, it demands discipline, and it requires friendships. India taught us that life is messy, but also completely beautiful.

 

To understand that . . .

 

2) In our modern world we often pretend; we pretend that what we do doesn't impact on others . . . however, it always does

 

We are often told life is a process of self discovery, but we needed to see that our own journey and actions will definitely impact on the lives of others. We needed to witness cases of brilliant individuals doing the most incredible forms of outreach. In India we meet many of these characters. Whether it was through our interactions with the Jungle Crows, or Freeset, or Future Hope, or Khelo Rugby, or Don Bosco, or ASHA, or the Magicians, we had the privilege of gaining a snapshot into the drive that stirs deep inside the likes of Paul, Zaff, Tudu, Dan, Dave, Sam, Mark, Kiran, Vijay, Anwar, etc (the list goes on). The purpose of these interactions was never to push any of our boys into feeling an obligation to return to India (for many never will), nor was it an objective to make our boys throw away their current realities and head off into the wilderness in search of serving noble third world operations. The opportunities to interact were simply designed to illustrate that people matter, and that we as gifted people should stop pretending that the world is too big to have a real impact on others. In short, India deepened our desire to be accountable of our actions, or lack of actions; to grow in the knowledge we can have an immensely positive influence on those around us.

 

To realise that . . . 

 

3) We need to grow more courage; courage to tell the story of who we are with our whole heart . . . even if that makes us feel vulnerable

 

We often numb vulnerability, the very thing that is necessary and makes us beautiful. We are slow to want to awaken and challenge deep within ourselves. We don't often want to commit too much into entering the lives of others as it scares us. In India we were forced to talk to everyone; the chai wala, the boisterous street stall owner, the young children (who in turn always showed us a glimpse into our own humanity), the beggar, the fellow tourist, the ultra-proud 'I love my India' bystander, and the puzzled onlooker who struggled to comprehend why one would travel to his country on 'holiday'. We meet these individuals daily, grappling to accept their views of the world, sometimes even finding it difficult to cross the language barrier. However, where possible we made links, built bridges and expanded our perceptions of the world. The purpose was not to convert our boys into some religious doctrine, or to become complete experts in the field of Indian history or politics, but rather to ensure we got to hear stories, and then after having listened that we shared our stories and beliefs to strangers in return. In becoming story tellers we became open and vulnerable to others judging us. India taught us to have courage; not the contemporary term referring to a sense of being heroic, but defined rather by its Latin origins related to the concept of telling one's story with our whole heart. And we did speak up, leaping forward like lions in pursuit of this gallant trait.

 

To realise that . . . 

 

4) We must return home and let ourselves be seen; to love with our whole hearts . . . even when there are no guarantees

 

This is the unwritten chapter that will follow upon our return home. In India we found connection; connection with the children in the community of Brooklyn, with auto rickshaw drivers in Jaipur, with the Jungle Crow players in the Maidan, and with many more delightful individuals. Connection has the wonderful ability to give purpose and meaning to our lives. A sense of connection results in us "fighting for what matters" as one of our boys noted in the final debrief. As we leave India we will each be forced to consider our relationships with those in our New Zealand communities. Are we authentic with those around us? Do we practice love; the sort of love that leads to joy and gratitude? Do we accept that our lives are much more than our memories, and that we truly are powerful? If India has 'done her thing' within each of us there will be a burning desire to be more, to give more, to love more; even when there are no guarantees that those around us will do the same. For in reaching out to our own families, our own close knit groups of friends, and our own neighbours who live next door but with whom we rarely communicate with, maybe, just maybe, we could transform our small worlds to be places where those who are walking with despair and disconnection can begin to know what it is like to fly. All of affirmative developments require us to be seen though.

 

 

Therefore, as we head home with many of the objectives from above having been 'achieved', we will hug each of you once again. Please don't expect us to necessarily be changed. Yes, we each now have a burning desire to see other places and meet other people in the world face-to-face; to see them, to know them, and to value them. Yes, we will talk a little more initially, but will still not know for certain who deals the cards in life, or whether the role we are playing in and/or around the stadium that houses the 'game of life' is the right role. Yes, we will have more personal confidence and seek to love ourselves more, despite the ease in which mankind can lean towards the opposite. And yes, we will be passionate about finding our own voices, hoping to evaluate our lives not by what we do for a living, but rather by the successful pursuit of things we ache for.

 

We will not be giving up on tertiary education, nor forgetting our goals of becoming doctors, lawyers, engineers, and the like. Nor will we be spending too much time dreaming or thinking. For each of us is aware our own book must be written. A book full of vibrant chapters; this immersion programme being one of them. A book where the reader should marvel at the colourful experiences and actions we have taken in our lives. After all, this is not a finished story, it is a jigsaw puzzle still being put together, and each new block will need room, requiring other blocks to be modified or discarded along the way. Importantly though, we are both the main character and author in this book, so we stand ready, pen in hand, and although the vast horizon guarantees nothing, we walk towards it feeling a deep sense of gratitude for the blessed lives we have experienced to date.

 

So, in the wee hours of this morning, I sit here again, back in the same place I have been on January 3, both in 2010 and 2012. And I sit here with tears running down my face. Soon we walk away from this country, a nation that leaves you feeling so empowered and inspired, yet also so hurt. My tears aren't reserved for India though, but rather for our group. For this was a story about 25 people, written over 26 days. The one country it involved was India; a land and a people that guided us into a more complex world. Attempting to thank 22 young men, 22 bloody proud young New Zealand men, 22 incredibly rich young men by way of the parental love and family support that they know, and 22 young men of great promise, who will one day lead careers, communities, countries, and most importantly, families, to realise cultures of wonderful love and value, is impossible. Thus I can only humbly and sincerely say thank you. The honour, the absolute privilege, has most definitely been mine.

 

We are all here to know and love life. Never forget boys, that in times of despair, when you are frantically searching, yet still you cannot find the answers, realise that 'You Are Enough'.

 

O God, thy sea is so great and my boat is so small.

 

Safe and blessed travels in 2014 and beyond.

 

Ben