Flying a little.

Community. Here we go again.

I feel like this is a subject that I have so often written about. So often dwelled upon. So often dreamed about. And it is quite often that I have experienced community within an arm's reach of Invisible Children's tight grasp. It's always beautiful.

As I have mentioned in the past, it is a community that I have come home to not once, not twice, but many times. The first summer was an experiment in social skills and stretching boundaries. I found love like I had never experienced before. The second summer, damn it, my family began taking shape. Coming back as a roadie, my brothers and sisters took form, and within my team, I have three friends who I will never let go of. They are my rocks and I will forever be changed because of them.

This time, I am on the outside. I am not a roadie, I am not staff. I am not even a consistent volunteer. Instead, I am one who has been a part of this community in the past, and simply now, a friend. But it is with this group that I have found something that seems so rare these days: true friends. They are family, yes, but they are friends foremost.

We sit and talk. We have long conversations, whether it be over white russians, beers, tofurkey, pie, or the traditional cup of coffee, they are beautiful. I have found laughter and joy, been a shoulder and needed one myself, and have been brought out of myself once again.

Community.

The past few days, I have been dwelling on the idea of being created for community. Let's begin here. I don't have a job. And what I do for recreation is during the day, while the world is at work, I sit at home and search for jobs. Often for hours at a time. Social networks seem enticing but not in the least fulfilling, as they are the connection to the world that revolves without my presence. As I am reunited with my roommates, friends, whoever, I become alive again.

I am created for community. You are created for community.

It's funny how things fall into place. As I have been dwelling on this, I have been also remembering the community I came from in Uganda. And oh, it was wonderful. And man, do I miss those beauties. But I am also looking toward the future. As the intentional community we all dreamed of in San Diego is falling apart quicker than I could have ever imagined, what is being revealed underneath is suddenly taking form in something very different but equally as beautiful. And real.

Now I am faced with the eternal question: Do I stay or do I go?

Nothing in San Diego has worked out for me. In the past six months since being here, I have held one job, and working at Blockbuster for that month was hardly what I want to do with the rest of my life. Let alone for another week. Uganda fell into my life, and I am eternally grateful. For the first time in perhaps a year, I feel as if I have some direction, some idea in the shape of a dream to chase. The only thing left for me in San Diego is my friends. My group of dreamers. My precious idealists who have changed me forever. Who I want to stay with forever.

The world is calling me away. The appeal of another part of the country, another job, something that I actually want to do. And it's killing me. Because all I want .. is my community. Is that enough to keep me in this place? Should it be enough?

Or am I now designated to bring this light somewhere else?

There are no easy answers in this world. I am discovering that more and more and more. And as beautiful and intriguing as that is, the answers seem to break my heart at the same time.

I never thought it would be so difficult to leave a place. But I guess .. I guess when a place, when these people, have made me into who I will be forever .. they stick with you.

I am becoming myself. I have never felt so strongly about this as I do now. I thought I grew so much on the road, and that is the truth. But the six months after that intense period have shaped me even more than I could have imagined.

I need His light to be my guide. I think I forget what that looks like ... He is becoming more and more the epitomy of Love to me. And if all my doors lead to Love .. well, I think that is the Freedom we are called towards.

Ladies and gentlemen,
it's time to fly.
No. No.
It's time to soar.

kristinelaine.

to have faith is to have wings.
[j.m. barrie]

six word post number one.

Itching for adventure.
Thanksgiving tomorrow.
Home?

wendy, darling.

I realized I never post pictures on this blog. Or anything more creative than my life thoughts and musings.

So. I thought I would remedy that.



There is a freedom that the north brings out in me .. especially with my lost boys.

[sometimes I just need to return to Neverland .. and fly a little.]

homeward bound.

Oh, yes.

In another few hours, home will be returning to San Diego.
Members are traipsing back, and I feel as if I will be laughing soon in a way I haven't laughed in ..

... two months time.

Darlings, welcome home.
[and thanks for helping make this my home.]
k.

California Sun.

Hello dear friends!

Greetings from California!

As you may or may not know, I have returned to America. After spending two months in Uganda, I took a grueling 56 hour long trip to return to the States. It is difficult for me to believe that my time in Uganda is over, but I am excited to tell you what has been going on with this creative storytelling project.

Upon my return, I brought back about 150 stories from both primary and secondary students in Uganda. And they are simply beautiful. While I was still in Uganda, I got to travel to several primary schools in Gulu, and there I got to see the faces and greet the voices behind many of these stories. I discovered that these children were not only delighted and eager to tell these stories, but this was perhaps one of the first opportunities for them to dabble in creativity, and it's been quite an unexpected pleasure to witness that.

As my time in Uganda was coming to a close, I discovered that the project would not yet be completed once I left. A friend, Denis Ocitti, is running the project in Uganda. He is a primary school teacher based in Gulu, and is literally one of the best teachers in Uganda. And I can think of no one else I would rather have helping us out on the ground there. He is still getting the project out to secondary schools in the Gulu vicinity, and will be in charge of collecting the remaining stories and shipping them to me in California.

Although this project is coming to a close for now, at least on the ground in Uganda, it is still continuing in different ways. The stories, after being organized and sent to America, will be read and narrowed down to a top twenty to fifty stories. This round of stories will be then passed on to four judges: two based in America and two in Uganda. I am very excited to be working with these judges and hearing their thoughts on these written works, as well as to see their picks for the winners. I just met with one of our judges a couple of days ago, and am working on securing the others.

In that light, I invite you to continue being updated on this project, as there are still final steps that are being taken. I will most likely only be sending out a couple of more emails, as this process will be slightly slower than the past few weeks and also slightly less exciting. I would love to keep you all updated, as it is your faith, support, prayers, and encouragement that have fed this project from the beginning. And for that, I cannot thank you enough.

I hope you are all doing well and keeping warm as we enter this winter season. I will be updating you all soon, but until then, stay well and be blessed. And thank you again for everything.

in love and for peace,
Kristin Lorey

p.s. If you are interested, you can check out a summary of our project as posted on one of Dave Eggers' sites. You can read more about his own project(s) there, and how we became a part of it ... http://onceuponaschool.org/?p=657

Rain, no red mud, and bright lights ...

Currently ... crashing in the London airport, sharing a couch with Kami.
Last night ... crashed with new friends in Uganda, watching the US election.

I am heading home.

But every time I leave a place, I am faced with that ever daunting question:

What is home?

I don't think I know anymore. Or, more specifically, I don't think I have a set location. Maybe home is at the dead center of those pods of communities. The more alive the communities, the more appealing that home is.

I don't know if Uganda is home, or honestly if it even feels like home. All I know is that I have found some of the most beautiful and radiant people there, both Ugandan and not. And I am sad to be leaving a newfound set of friends, leaving them halfway across the world.

But ready to be coming home to the set of friends I have grown so fond of. And I am so in love with.

Hmm.

London is an intriguing place. Kami and I jumped on the Underground, found out it was Guy Fawkes day, and within an hour were sitting front row for the production of "Chicago". I like the feel of this city. A lot. And I think I would like it even more if I wasn't coming from a place such as Uganda, where everything here, although not unusual, seems new and strange. Like beautiful bookstores and stylish clothes ..

Boston for a few hours tomorrow, on to Los Angeles. Sleeping the night in the airport there, most likely, and heading back to San Diego on a train in the morning.

Oh, exploration! I do love your strange call.
k.

almost too much.

Perhaps it is because my time here is slowly, yet paradoxically too rapidly, drawing to a close. I am experience a range of humanity and experience that I have never been a part of before. It is not unusual that in a day I have so much anger I could burst, frustration at the people caught in a dysfunctional system, the feeling I could start sobbing at any moment. But then there is something beautiful that happens. The name "mzungu", which is so often an insult or something to laugh at or take advantage of, is used by a child with a smile that could win the whole world, hugging my knees, unknowing of my life, plan, heart, anything. A boda driver gives me a fair price without me begging. There is any small affirmation for why I am here.

In a place like Uganda, it is too easy to be lost in both fear and frustration. So much is different in a place like this, it can be difficult to see the beauty in the bold unfamiliarity. But at times, it can be too easy to see the beautiful and not see the brokenness. Both of which are dangerous.

But it is here tht the discovery of the complexity of life begins. So much can be thought to be discovered in America. Though, it is in the raw reality of Africa, where one can see the obvious effects of war, poverty, and complacency, it is as if the light finally illuminates the obvious.

Humanity is broken. But somehow redeemable.

For every misgiving, there is a kind word waiting to be spoken. For every "baby girl" and kissing noises received, there is a man waiting to help you on your way. For every cripple seen scraping along the busy roadside, there is a boy in the hospital, healing because of someone's mercy and love.

Coming back to America will not be easy. There will be a constant remember of the life that is led here. And not just the life that I have lived here. The life of relative comfort and ease that I have been a part of. But the life of begging, prostitution, even the life of bead-making, all to earn a meager living. Both the joy and pain that lies in this form of simplicity, and the hope that is so often extinguished because of poverty and routine.

There is no easy answer here. To any question. And that is what makes living here and leaving here difficult. Because I want to end the cycle of poverty. I want those children to leave the streets. I want the corruption to end, the bribery and thoughts of supreme superiority.

But redemption takes time. And it takes hard work. And it takes the humbling of oneself and realizing that equality is much more complicated than it has been explained to you. And so much more than that, it takes tings that we are constantly discovering. But it is something that is worth working for. And though the answers seem hidden, even sometimes nonexistent, there must be hope in the Love that was offered for this world. And continues to be offered daily. Wisdom must be out there.

Questions need to be asked. To never stop. But comfort also needs to be found in friends, in hope ...

... in Love.