Update: We did it!

Hi again everyone,

Yes, I still can’t quite believe it: we raised ALL the money we needed. 

This means that: 

Five people from Gaza will be funded to attend the Nonviolent Communication International Intensive Training. One of them will be funded to participate in the yearlong BayNVC Leadership Program.

!!!

When I realized that my dream had come true — that people I know and many I’ve never even met had chipped in to add up to nearly the total amount — I couldn’t sleep all night. 

Again. 

But this time, it was hope and excitement and awe that kept me awake. The generosity many of you offered will translate into, quite possibly, a life-changing experience for some people who most of us have never and will never meet. I was struck by the almost palpable connection, and interdependence, of all of us. I remembered hiking last summer in California, feeling very alone, and suddenly becoming aware, not through thought but through breath, that the air I was breathing was literally the same air that my sister Heather over a thousand miles away in Colorado was breathing. How close and vulnerable we all are: what I breathe out will reach you. 

And how tragedy and loss in one life can open up growth and hope in another. Some of you, when you sent me a contribution or other kind of support, shared stories, some heartbreaking and some joyful, about why you were giving and where the money came from. What a tremendous honor it has been to hold these stories and generosities in my heart. What a tremendous gift to pass your gifts on. 

The words don’t suffice, but as they are the words I have, I will write them: thank you so very much for the contributions of money and time and help in many ways. 

I know also that some of you wanted to participate but couldn’t, or wanted to participate but hadn’t yet had a chance. Thank you so much to you, as well.

We don’t yet know who from Gaza will end up attending the training; that’s still in process. Many already have expressed great interest. Many thanks to Mohammed and Alia for putting out the word. Many thanks to the many people I know through Seeds of Peace and the Center for Nonviolent Communication and elsewhere who have helped and are helping to make this happen.

The next step is getting permits to leave Gaza. This is not an easy thing. I’m holding out hope that another miracle will turn up. 

With love and appreciation,

Amanda

P.S. Here's a video from a previous NVC training in the region: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4gPHZodfq8#t=33

Gaza, My Grandmother, and Me

Hello everyone!

I’m thrilled to be writing to you tonight with a huge amount of passion and clarity...

The short version:

-  I'm hoping to raise money to send 5 young people to a 9 day International Intensive Training in Nonviolent Communication (NVC, sometimes called compassionate communication) in the West Bank, with the added opportunity for one of these young people to participate in a year-long leadership course. More details below.

- My year off is over, and I’m just chomping at the bit to be out in the world again. I want to help support groups and individuals to thrive using principles of nonviolence, specifically NVC. If you know of places where this work would be welcome, please connect me with them. If you’d like to hire me to work with your group, run a training, or work one-on-one with me as a conflict coach, please let me know!

The long version:

I’ve just finished my summer at Seeds of Peace International Camp (SOP) where I work as a dialogue facilitator for young people from conflict regions. SOP started with young people from the Middle East; my campers are from Pakistan, Afghanistan, India and the US. (Here's a video about it if you have a minute). I can’t imagine a more perfect job for me: basically, I get to help people open their hearts to their “enemies”... next to a lake in Maine.

My two dialogue groups: 

This year, the two nights before I set out for camp, I could not sleep. I couldn't stop thinking of Gaza, and I couldn’t stop thinking of my grandmother. I knew that people I had met through Seeds of Peace, people with whom I had laughed and cried, with whom I had shared ideas for teaching peace, with whom I had cooked and shared meals, now cowered in fear as they listened to bombs fall around them. I thought of their loneliness and fear, how perhaps it was a loneliness and fear my family has felt too. I ached to do something. In my wakefulness, I opened my computer to see if I could get some news about these friends. On one friend's Facebook page, there was a video she had posted a few weeks before of smoke rising from buildings nearby; she had taken the video from her front porch. On my colleague Mohammed's page, there were updates from the previous days about sheltering more and more relatives in his house until there were 30 under one roof. The latest update was a photo of a gaping hole in the corner of his house and the news that they were now evacuating.

I thought about what resources I had. My stipend from Seeds of Peace I had already earmarked to cover the last installment of my nonviolent communication leadership program. It was almost exactly the amount I needed; I liked the symbolism of taking my compensation from this peace work and using it to cover my training in nonviolence. I thought about the "safety" I had by knowing that this money would cover my commitment to BayNVC, and I realized that one way of stepping into shared responsibility for the damage in Gaza was to give up that safety and take on the risk that I might not be able to earn enough money to cover my tuition, and that I might have to take on credit card debt.

I sat with this plan for a long time; three weeks of camp time is an eternity. Finally, Mohammed arrived from Gaza, literally shell-shocked. His first morning in Maine, after 48 hours of traveling, we sat with him as he shared, even as he apologized, the horrors he had seen, the fear, the 15 minutes when he was certain his house was about to be blown up when he gave his goodbyes to the world. The neighbor’s home exploded with an entire family, not a single survivor remaining to mourn them.

The next afternoon I sat with him by the lake in Maine while he smoked a cigarette (a recent relapse, in response to the war) and told him that I wanted to give him my stipend to use however he thought it would help people. I told him that I thought of the Gazans there knowing about all of us watching and doing nothing, seeing the pictures on the news and on Facebook and remaining silent. I imagined them lonely and scared, maybe infuriated with our silence, wanting help, wanting to be seen. I told him how I thought of my grandmother in Auschwitz so many years ago and imagined her thinking that no one in the world cared. I wanted to say, "I care. I see and I care and I want to help."

I told him the situation: that I had the money set aside for nonviolent communication training, but that I wanted to give it to him.

He wouldn't take it. He said I had already done enough. "Use it for your education," he said. "Your telling me this story is enough. I will bring it back and tell everyone at home. The money isn't important."

We went back and forth; I wanted to do something tangible. We came up with a plan: I would use my stipend to pay for myself, but I would raise money to allow young people from Gaza to have this training that I have gained so much from, that I find so hopeful in my search for real peace, from the smallest level in my classroom to the largest international level. Another facilitator at Seeds of Peace, Tarek, is helping run an International Intensive Training in the West Bank in November. I would try to gather enough funds for 5 people from Gaza to attend this training; one of them could then go on to participate in the yearlong program that has been such a huge transformation for me this year. "No one in Gaza has any money," Mohammed said. If I could raise the money for them to go, it would be an incredible opportunity for these young people.

It just so happened, Mohammed told me, that there were 5 young people from Gaza who had prepared to attend Seeds of Peace in 2007, but then they were not given permission to leave. They ached for a chance to get training. 

They will be the first to be offered the opportunity. With yesterday’s ceasefire, the dream is a little closer to a reality that they will be able to get out for the training.

The cost is $880 for each person from Gaza for the 9 day training and room/board (that’s a significant local discount the organizers are offering). On top of that, I’d like to raise enough for one of these people to go forward to participate in the yearlong distance learning program with BayNVC, which involves three trips to California -- a large expense at $11,600 for tuition and airfare, but I’d like to get started on it!

If you’re inspired to give, I welcome your help in making this happen! And I hope you will only give if it feels joyful to you; I would actually be sad if you read this and told yourself that because I've sent you this email, you "should" give. That's the opposite of what I'm going for.

To donate, sign in to Paypal:

https://www.paypal.com/webapps/mpp/send-money-online

Please enter my email address: ablaine@gmail.com

On the next window, please click on "friends or family", as gifts are not subject to the fees. There’s no overhead or anything -- just me collecting money to pay for these tuitions.

If you’d like to donate but this format doesn’t work, let me know -- there are other ways.

And, if you know other people who would like to be involved, please forward this to them.

I haven't given up my original idea, either: my hope is that I can earn enough money myself through my trainings and workshops so that I can still donate my stipend from Seeds of Peace to Mohammed. He wants to start an afterschool program in Gaza.

I’ll let you know how it all goes. Thanks for reading, and thanks to all of you for the continued support!

Much love,

Amanda

On My Way Home

The car is packed. I'm ready. I'm going home.

It's been nine months, and I'm finally going back to Maine. 

I know my journey's not over, but some part of it is coming to a close. Before I leave on this final two hour trip back to Portland, I'm pausing to catch up with you. I know I've been out of touch. 

There is a part of me that is just THRILLED, so excited to go home, so excited to see everyone in Maine, so excited to measure what's changed in me with the loved ones who sent me off back in July and learn what has changed in them. Let's see what flowers are blooming from the seeds we planted...

There is also a part of me that is very sad, and that's what I want to share first. The last part of my journey has been full of intensity and love and sadness and loss. I want to tell you about my amazing friends Katie and Kris and their children Kiran and Mira. I want to honor that it is not my story... and yet my story is woven in with theirs. Much of the last month I spent in Charlottesville with these dear friends. There was a new baby, and there was a dying father. There were so many of us nearby, our hands twitching with the desire to do something, anything. We could wash dishes and feed the baby and answer the doorbell, but in the larger sense there was nothing for us to do but be close (or sometimes far away) and watch the heartbreak as it happened, and feel our own hearts breaking too. 

Have you lost someone, and seen how much their absence is a presence? Have you felt how the spirit of someone gone changes and lifts those who stay behind? Kris didn't want us to be sad, he wanted us to celebrate what an amazing life he had. He thought of himself as the luckiest guy in the world, even up to the end. Read a little more about him here.

So, in the spirit of what Kris wanted, I just want to end by saying that it was such an incredible honor to be with them during this time.

From the sublime to the mundane... 

I see that it's getting late and I have to leave soon. I want to write more about February, and March, and April, and May. In the meantime, here are some snippets:

- NYC last weekend with Christian to celebrate his translations of Osama Alomar's work and Osama's appearance at the PEN Literary festival. Read the NYT article here.

- New Mexico with Alana and Tim in the weeks before their baby's birth! 

(Damn are those some fine parents-to-be.)

Oh, that's the Rio Grande River behind us!

Then on to Taos' Earth Ships. Sustainable homes. 

I may have left Maine, but I've still got my layers!

And a month at Ananda, where I was headed when I last wrote.

My home was here: 

And because this is in no particular order, I also spent a week with my little (but taller than me) brother Josh in Austin, where I hung out a bunch at the zero-waste grocery store he helped start. Check out http://in.gredients.com.

And also...

- Lunch with a former student in Albuquerque

- A night with Ra and Jill in their magical Oakland retreat home

- Another 10 day vipassana retreat, this time in the heart of Texas

- More time at Grafton Peace Pagoda, including an April snow storm

- A few days with my patient parents growing sprouts and visiting my grandma and great-aunt

I know I'm leaving out a lot, but I've got to get to Maine!

Love to all of you, and I hope to see you SOON!

So Much to Be Thankful For...

Hello again everyone!

I knew it was time for an update when I got a text message from my sister that said, "Where in the world is Amanda? Inquiring minds want to know!" And later that same day I got a message from my parents asking how Nevada City was; not only have I never been to Nevada City, but it was about 600 miles away from where I actually was.

In San Diego. In shorts and sandals. In January.

One of my goals this year was to be warm. Check!

I last wrote about the birth of Ray. There's a lot to fill in, and I know I won't fit it all here, but here's a little taste:

Right after Ray was born, I hopped on a bus back to the Sierra Nevadas to serve on a vipassana meditation course. I loved baking cornbread and sweeping the floors for the meditators, trying to make their experience as comfortable as my first sit (10 day course) was. Here's a few of us who served and sat together on our magical day off in Yosemite. 

My next plane ride took me to Colorado. Here's a different kind of plane ride:

Acro-yoga with my nephew Demitri. 

And my nephew Johannes. 

Not quite an airplane, but pretty good considering I weigh more than twice what he does!

These two boys were another big part of leaving Maine -- I wanted to spend time with them! And I got it, lots of good boy time. I witnessed only one bloody nose in my month with them, which is apparently below average. 

Of course, hanging out with my sister and her husband wasn't half bad, either!

Heather ran her first half-marathan while I was there. It was -8 degrees when she left the house, but it never crossed her mind to drop out. Yes, that's NEGATIVE 8 degrees.

(Do you see me whooping it up in the background?)

I can't say enough about my month with the Wiegands. If you ever want to feel welcome, go spend time with Heather and Chris! From borrowing their neighbor's car for me, to driving me to a hard-to-find soccer game, to finding a guitar for me to use for the month... and on and on. Thank you so much, Heather, Chris, Johannes, and Demitri! 

It's hard to find a photo with Chris *in* it, as he usually takes the photos. Thanks, Chris, for taking me snowshoeing and for all the millions of other gestures, small and large!

I don't have many photos from the next leg of my trip. I spent New Year's with my friend Christian in the neat little town of Troy, New York.  We welcomed the New Year at dawn at the snowy Grafton Peace Pagoda. Check it out if you're ever in the area. I met lots of folks doing great work to build sustainable communities there -- keeping fracking out of NY, growing healthy food, protecting the watersheds of the Hudson Valley, and much more. Thanks, Christian!

I popped in to East Coast winter just long enough to get really chilly and rush back to California!

The next phase of my journey was a long time coming: the year-long Leadership Program run by Bay NonViolent Communication. Another reason I left my job -- I have wanted to do this program for years, but the retreats fall during the school year.

Our first retreat was in Calistoga, CA, in the beginning of January. Folks came from all over the world: Japan, Turkey, Canada, all parts of the US. All of us have the intention to share nonviolent communication (NVC) in some way. NVC has been a huge support to me in the work I do as a teacher, as a dialogue facilitator, as a friend and family member...  pretty much every part of my life has been enriched by NVC. I'm still figuring out how to explain it. For me, it's the "how" of living compassion and peace; it's both a strategy and a philosophical framework.  Read here if you'd like to learn more.

I didn't take any pictures from our week together, but my new friend Slam did. Here's Slam in our beautiful home for the week:

 

And Slam, Go, and Yuko.

Thanks, Slam!

I was blown away by the quality of the teaching and programming. I returned to the outside world inspired, refreshed, and a little disoriented. Thankfully, my new global community of fellow NVC-ers is a huge support. We connect every week on a tele class and we'll see each other at our next retreat in June. In the meantime, I'm putting my focus on integrating what I'm learning and letting it influence my inner and outer life.

What's most exciting: seeing more and more clearly how I can contribute to peace-building and helping people (and all other creatures) live well together. I'm grateful to NVC for helping me develop this in myself!

Since the retreat, I've been in the Bay Area and in Southern California. A few pictures:

Hiking in Point Reyes with Liza. 

In San Diego with Chaz:

Exploring tide pools.

The Ocean Beach Farmers Market. Just like Maine, only with palm trees. And shorts. And a lot of other differences.

Hiking among the madrones and live oaks. (Thanks, Chaz!)

Meeting Jen and Fred's adorable little one, Alina. I wish I had a photo of her adorable parents, too!

Now I'm back in the Bay Area for a day before heading to the Sierras again. My next adventure: a month in a yoga ashram! 

I miss you and love you all!

**Many thanks for all the photos! Thanks to Chris and Heather, Jen and Fred, Chaz, Mercy, Liza, and Slam, and I'm sorry if I missed anyone else!