“choose something!!!”
These soft, kind yet powerful words I speak to myself whenever I’m on the fence about a decision. I use my full name because only my parents call me by it. Therefore the severity is conveyed and movement commenced. I don’t like not deciding. I feel as though the wavering of a decision somehow ripples down deeper. I can begin to doubt myself. My interactions with other people. My dreams.
And I’m only trying to choose a pair of shorts from my dresser drawer.
Somehow my outfit choice for the day is THAT important it will impact EVERYTHING!
I chided myself sarcastically with this assumed truth in order to interrupt the steam of doubts in my head and shake my head and laugh at my own foolishness. Then I pick clothes that are suitable for whatever I’m about to do and ones that I will be comfortable in (which is 97.6 % of all my clothes) and don’t think any more about it.
While my day-to-day life I spend very little time obsessing over what to wear, this wasn’t always true. Early in my twenties I “cared” (aka obsessed) about how others might perceive me based on my outfit choice. I’ve learned though it’s not what you wear that matters nearly as much as knowing truth and living that truth out. Sometimes what you wear does deeply matter though. I learned this on a desperately needed day off for Ellen, Jasmine and myself while I was living in Rio de Janeiro Brazil.
Quick backstory on the three of us. We all lived and worked together for a non-profit in Rocinha, a favela in Rio de Janeiro Brazil. Ellen filled the role of the morning school coordinator, she was in charge all the things (volunteers, lesson plans, etc) for that. Jasmine was in charge of the same, but for the after-school/evening program. I handled the operations, which meant supporting Ellen and Jasmine however they needed, managing/maintaining relationships with the four other non-profits we staffed, and the orientation/departure of our volunteers.
Back to the day off, or really the week which the day off occurred…
I desperately needed a day off. Mostly because it was nearly two weeks since I had taken a day off – because I wasn’t good at taking time off. My list of why (aka excuses) I had is long, but I’ll spare you from reading it and summarize it by saying they weren’t good and they lacked a larger picture viewpoint.
Early in the week, Ellen and I were in a meeting with the director of the non-profit. While we sat at the juice bar and talked we watched a Rocinha resident get tossed towards heaven in multiple bloody pieces. The busy flow of morning traffic ended his life as quickly as his footsteps had led him off the sidewalk.
Few things make me feel queasy in my stomach: I threw up everything I had after witnessing that scene. Once back in our flat I cried with Ellen and Jasmine. We exchanged tears, hugs and talked about our questionable life decisions of leaving our home countries (England and United States) and choosing to come live and work in place that (especially at that moment) held so much pain and darkness.
I needed a break. We each need a break. We needed to pause and breathe. So we looked at our calendars and ‘to-do’ lists and with the help and support of our fantastic team of volunteers, we set time aside for each of us to have a day off. To rest and be restored.
On our day off, Jasmine and I left Rocinha to go to the Centro of Rio. Our only plan was to go to Confeitaria Colombo, a beautiful cafe we had gone to a couple months earlier with some of our team.
Once in downtown Rio we walked for a bit, wandering in and out of shops; talking about what we could do/get for “our kids” back in Rocinha for the Halloween festivities that were a couple weeks away. Then I saw them. Hung high above us in the ceiling. Huge white wings. Heavenly cardboard gracefully glued with hang picked individual white craft store feathers and a sparkling clean Spandex harness. The sign attached to them said they were designed to be worn for joyful mischief.
True story (full disclosure, I wrote the sign).
Jasmine and I left that shop richer in the form of the wings and a Batman mask. As soon as we reached a space that was open enough I donned my wings.
As we continued our walk to Confeitaria Colombo I was greeted by more stares than was normal. And empowered by my outfit, I returned the greeting with either a smile, an eyebrow raise or a wink. Depending on who was staring sometimes I would give all three.
While both at the Confeitaria and our journey home to Rocinha we had countless people ask us “why?” I casually responded with, “Well why not?” While Jasmine would gleefully respond, “Because it’s Thursday!”
Both responses were true and satisfied (in a small way) the questioner. The full truth wasn’t quite that simple. Looking back though, it isn’t as complex as I thought it was at the time.
The larger truth was I desperately needed to step out of reality and dream. I remind myself of this truth weekly, sometimes daily. I can’t do it all. Which gives me the freedom to do well whatever it is that I do choose.
There were four other smaller truths I was reminded of that day;
- I’m part superhero. I fight evil by disarming my own evil intentions.
- I’m a grown-up child (aka a really tall child). Heavenly breath blew life into my chest. I can inspire life. The appropriate outfit for all days is one that both empowers and inspires. Which varies by individual, place and time.
- You find whatever it is you look for, so look for the good.
- When you rest, you’re able to dream. With a good dream, you change reality.
At the end of my time, I was simultaneously ready and full of sorrow to leave Rocinha. In many ways, at that point in my life at least, it was a deeper home than any I’d ever known. Residents on my street knew my name and I knew theirs. The ladies at the juice bar knew my morning açaí order. The men at the butcher shop knew they needed to help me (the American vegetarian) pick the best cut of meat for team churrasco.
Calling Rocinha home taught me that it’s ok if internet strength is a maybe, motorcycle taxis are the best form of transportation and to connect to the community you’re in. Because you’ll meet amazing people like Denise.
Social reform comes from personal transformation. In order for change, no matter the size, to be permanent it must grow in value in the community impacted by it. As an outsider to Rocinha, I knew I couldn’t change Rocinha.
I would never be able to fully understand the structure of the community. The multitude of systemic abuses of power I encountered during my time there reminded me of the power lines that decorated the space between buildings. Which to be clear, exist here in the States as well — often in forms not quite as obvious as a mess of wires.
Being an outsider though gave me, gave my entire team, the ability/freedom to live out the truth life outside the favela had taught us. I did my best to live out the truth that took me to Rocinha in the first place: Dream and choose to follow your dreams. They won’t all work out (which is really good because some of mine have been terrible dreams). What you do with your dreams matters almost as much as simply having them.
We all have choices we face daily; from what food to eat, what clothes to wear, how to spend our free time and more. Being able to choose is your birthright. May you choose what inspires. May you stay both present and hopeful. Seeing both what is there and what might be. Seasons change, just like the day, what’s best might still have yet to be.
May your choices reflect a deeper truth than the reality around you.
