Lightning bolt moments in September

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It’s the bottom of the fifth, and the Minnesota Twins are up by two against Texas. Fox news is commentating, in English, mind you. I recognize most of the players on the Twins  roster, and on the Texas team I don’t know a single players’ name. But I do know that I don’t like them. Or rather, that I want the Twins to win.

Because it’s my home team, where I feel my sense of patriotism and pride. Most of the players aren’t even from my “home” state, but somehow I feel a strong need to shreak in joy at the T.V. whenever they put another point on the scoreboard…

…I’ve been watching the news over the past few days, mostly BBC, and taking in everyone’s views on Syria, what the U.S. should or shouldn’t do to “act” or “strike”, and thinking about my own feelings on the situation. I sometimes wonder about my own feelings on the actions of my countries’ government, and whether I feel really connected to the U.S. I watch videos of those suffering from gas burns, from children shaking because their nervous systems are compromised, and videos of world leaders making statements about these events, instead of taking “action”…

I find myself standing in a crowd of swaying, mostly off-key singing 20-something Venezuelans, head bobbing to the best rock band that this country has to offer, I feel just right. This is where I am meant to be; surrounded by my co-workers, that I also call my friends, watching a talented group of Venezuelan guys (one in a cowboy hat) rock out pretty darn well.

These three events may seem extremely disconnected, but they all lead to my understanding that I am one small being in a very culturally diverse but also extremely connected planet.

I feel an association to strangers who run around a baseball diamond 3,000 miles away, an association to strangers who stand outside until 3am to hear their favorite rock-band play, and association to my own government, in D.C., as they carefully and privately discern whether they should intervene in a crime against humanity, on the other side of the world.

Despite my distance from my home, Duluth, I feel so connected right now.

My friends in Duluth just enjoyed a celebration of freedom, a celebration of love, and a weekend of music, dancing, and rainbows. It’s gay Pride weekend. Though I missed Duluth’s annual celebration, sitting in the green grass of the Bayfront Park watching close friends perform, I looked over at a friend last night after we walked over three kilometers home from the concert on a poorly lit and crumbling Venezuelan road, and wished her “happy pride weekend in Duluth”, she responded accordingly, knowing that it was hard for me to be away from those I love.

I’ve got everything I need right now. A beautiful place to live, fun people to enjoy it with, and daily activities that keep my brain and heart occupied. I spent a few moments last week sitting outside after getting my daily workout of basketball in our school gym (it almost feels a mosque with the lighting that flows in during the evening hours), and as I sat on the soft ground I watched a beautiful lightening storm to the south west, which lasted over an hour. I called my friends and they came out to watch as well as lightening against the background of a huge storm system, lit up our sky, with stars still shining directly above us. I was perfectly content, but more, I was connected.

I will continue to watch Twins Baseball and yell at the t.v. in my empty apartment, and I will continue to follow the news and hope that the leaders of our world can come to conclusions that allow for the greatest and most continuous level of peace, and I will always, rock out. I will embrace this month, the flaws, the battles, and the gorgeous moments. I hope you will too!