Contrition vs. Guilt

"I don't think being human has any place for guilt. Contrition, yes. Guilt, no. Contrition means you tell God you are sorry and you're not going to do it again and you start off afresh. All the damage you've done to yourself, put right. Guilt means you go and on belaboring and having emotions and beating your breast and being ego-fixated. Guilt is a trap. People love guilt because they feel if they suffer enough guilt, they'll make up for what they've done. Whereas, in fact, they're just sitting in a puddle and splashing. Contrition, you move forward. It's over. You are willing to forgo the pleasures of guilt." - Sister Wendy Beckett, Roman Catholic nun

love your neighbors

so i moved back to cleveland - city proper. let me say that my cleveland neighborhood is beautiful, friendly, engaging, and walkable. old funky houses. character. beautiful gardens & hidden away urban beauty in oodles. yet i've asked guys to put their butterfly needles away in my alley, watched the prostitute arrive to turn tricks in the house across the street, and the drug boys making their deals on the corner. why do i live here? you know why i live here. in hopes of rippling out that bit of what i do where it might be needed.
i didn't know until after i moved in that the house next to me (note: not pictured above) was vacant. this one kept a bit of its grandeur even in its demise but houses get sad & scary when they're left untended. newspapers on the windows. eerie silence tempting the fates of the urban gods. the foreclosure crisis brought home, personally affecting me, as i prayed nightly that some wanderer wouldn't set bonfire to the backyard brush pile legacy left by its previous owner.
yesterday afternoon, i met my new neighbor, yelling hello over the fence!
tonite, as i walked outside to appreciate the dusk sky, i was caught off guard by the golden light shining out his kitchen windows as he toiled away, unpacking or making some yummy dinner concoction. i was filled with gratitude for him... for all my neighbors... for all the people who call these dying urban neighborhoods home. living, (hopefully) working, breathing, human beings seeking shelter and comfort like everyone else... but bound by the conviction that this is a fight worth fighting & making a personal commitment to doing so.
love your neighbors. say hello, learn their names, and in some manner, thank them for their faith in these cities, their willingness to do their part. we're in this one together.
appreciating the village,
c.