Peace active in Olympics

Many of us saw the 2010 Olympic champions stand on those podiums and receive their medals: gold, silver, and bronze. The medals honored these athletes for their a level of commitment and determination that we all can admire. Certainly they make their parents, coaches, and country proud, but perhaps more importantly they make the world proud. There would be no Olympics without the thousands of competitors. There would be no Olympics if the competitors did not train and make sacrifices to be in the best shape of their life for these two weeks. And there would be no Olympics without the sportsmanship that transcends cultural and language differences. To see so many different nations represented on those podiums cheering each other on and listening to the many national anthems of the world was inspiring.

When I was young I had that dream of becoming an Olympic athlete. I thought maybe someday I would be sprinting like Jesse Owens around the track in Berlin or speed skating so fast like Dan Jansen that tears would stream from my eyes. Though my time has come and I am no where near those podiums, it makes me proud to see the young people of the world getting together to compete; to share the universal language of athletic competition. The vigor, defeat, victory, and pure emotion that sport demands. I think these athletes help us remember how very much we all share in common. Ice skaters in the small country of Slovakia trained for four years to compete against the hockey stars of Canada, and they lost. South Korean teenagers carried high hopes for their 19 year figure skating "Queen," Kim Yu-Na, and she set a world record score with her gold medal performance. And the country of Georgia remembered the courageous and fierce competitor in Nodar Kumaritashvili, who died hours before the Olympics started during a training run on the Skeleton slide.

So the world comes to relate to each other through these different stories. Perhaps at first when the games begin we are inclined to focus solely on the successes of our own country men (our "ambassadors"). However, as the competition progresses we begin to realize their would be no competitive spirit in the Olympics without all the different athletes from all over the world. It is here where the meaning of the Olympics expands beyond the gold, silver, and bronze. We realize that competiton forces everyone to best their own mark and thus produce a higher level of excellence. This excellence is the same energy that drives peace. My desire to succeed and your desire to succeed are mutual because we can not alone be pushed to greater levels of excellence... for we need our fellow competitors. In fact we need the best in the world.

So my personal dream to run along side the likes of Jesse Owens in an Olympic setting may not be fully realized, but my dream for peace is seen in events like the Olympics.

Find ways to make Peace active,

Jared

Haiti on Our Minds

Last time I took a moment to write down some thoughts on this blog I was fresh off the job of jack hammering the plaster from a pool. It was then I was thinking about the work it might take to clean up a giant earthquake. How many days and volunteers it might take to make sense of the rubble and reconstruct civilization again. Here I am a month later and Haiti is in the middle of a relief and clean up effort I don't think any of us could ever imagine. Daily I pray for God to meet the needs of our Haitian brothers and sisters who are searching for a home, searching for their family, and desiring just one sip of fresh, clean water.

So what do we do as a world? How can we lovingly attend to this small island nation? First thing that comes to mind is to keep these brothers and sisters in our thoughts and prayers. They need our positive thinking and to be included in our dinner table prayers. We can bring up discussions with each other about the social inequalities that remain ever present in our world. The 7.0 quake that hit the poorest nation in the western hemisphere had a much greater affect than the 6.9 earthquake that hit San Francisco two decades ago. Why is this? Haiti does not have the infrastructure nor the building codes nor the resources of that of a wealthy city like San Francisco. There are so many layers to poverty that I have yet to understand, but nothing makes you think about it more than when it presents itself on the front cover of every newspaper in the world.

Living near many Haitians in the Dominincan Republic has opened my eyes to the resilience of these people. They are a strong people because they know how to come together and share whatever they have. I believe poverty can be extinguished by human kinds efforts to share all that they have including Love. Food, bottled water, and medical supplies may be waiting to be distributed on the runway at the airport in Port au Prince, but the supply of Love is never waiting. Love is in infinite abundance if we choose it to be. Our direct loving interactions with people most closely around us can ripple across the world and better the human race.

So I urge everyone to start loving more and think about how they can tap into this infinite supply of love where ever they live on the globe. It can help the people in Haiti.

DIVINE LOVE ALWAYS HAS MET AND ALWAYS WILL MEET EVERY HUMAN NEED. - Mary Baker Eddy

I Love you all,
Jared

Jack Attack

As I was jack-hammering at Forest Hills swim club I started to think about the pile of plaster rubble that was growing higher and higher. Then I thought about the project of cleaning up an earthquake. Plaster is hard and the hours of trying to control the vibrating jackhammer led my mind on a wild moment of pulsating reflection. Where do you begin in an earthquake clean up? What tools are available? How long until electricity arrives again? Who’s responsible for what space? How long will all the clean up take? Each jab of the long steel shaft on the thick white plaster lining of the pool sent small shocks through my body. Shocks that remind me of the "physicalness" of physical labor and the real work that goes into everything I seem to take for granted, like a nice pool to swim in. I was mad at the jackhammer for quite a while, or rather maybe it was the impervious plaster, nonetheless I needed to allow my mind wander and allow the labor to just happen.

This job is no earthquake clean up. This job is learning a heck of a lot about patience. We’re removing the old plaster lining of a six-lane lap pool so it can be lined anew. I work with two cool guys who have found the Bible and the Christ like example of Jesus as an inspiration, leading them away from a past life of heavy drug addictions. Everyday I look forward to shoveling out plaster in the crisp cool morning and breaking for lunch on the pool deck where I listen to stories of the street life, unwanted drug dealers, soup kitchens, drive by shootings, and a desire to change. Neither the open relationship I’ve built with my co-workers, nor the on the job personal reflection time was written into the contract when I signed up for this temp job. And I am certainly grateful for these unseen opportunities. I think God may have led me wandering down an unmarked road as I await Peace Corps reinstatement, but certainly it is no road of waste or barren. Rather, I find myself stumbling across many treasures, sweet fruits, good Samaritans, and reflection time that challenges my sense of what is a good job for me.

Some wonder how the recent college graduate has found himself at the bottom of a drained pool hammering away at nasty plaster with x-drug attics... and I respond... there’s something to learn from everyone and every moment. This temporary job has certainly humbled me and introduced me to people who are Good men despite their past struggles.

And you can certainly say Dad’s seasoned turkey burgers and squash soup tonight tasted twice as good after the long days work, and I know tonight’s sleep will be nothing less than solid.

So I wish you all a wonderful Holiday Season and may the spirit of Christ bless you all. Sing many songs, drink hot chocolate like it’s going out of style, and write a few personal letters to the people you love.

Drug addicts will always have many interesting stories. Be curious and have them tell you a fun story. It'll open you up.

In the Spirit of Christ,
Jared



Snow fell upon Mt. Diablo this week... a rare occurrence for the mild Bay Area climate, and nearly an impossibility in the tropical Dominican Republic.

What you do with free time?

My time in Pleasant Hill has been extended. Home is where my heart is. I'm anxious to return to the streets of the Dominican Republic and to the sound of kids playing baseball and roosters crowing and my Dona announcing "La Comida esta lista!" or "lunch is ready." In my mind I was there just yesterday, but it's been several months now and I'm still keeping that patience as I wait for Washington to give me medical clearance for return. Meanwhile, home has found my legs churning miles along old running routes with the College Park High cross country team. I love to run and so I thought why not share some time helping to coach and run with high schoolers. However, I've realized youth sports are made way too competitive in America compared with that of Latin American countries. Instead of kids on the street playing catch with their neighbor with any form of weathered ball or hard round fruit they can find, parents have taken over the scheduling and creativity of good old child's play. Now there are rules, there are rule enforcers, there are specified venues where play is appropriate, and perhaps most difficult of all there is a price to pay if you want to play. Some parents say the streets are not safe so they prefer to take their child to those caged in sporting arenas. I'll tell you, the streets aren't safe because no one's out there. No one's playing with the kid across the street in suburbia, and in urban Oakland guns, drugs, and cars seem be instilling fear, and owning the young black boys free time before he can "make it safe to first base." An honest sandlot game of baseball, soccer , or even basketball are rarely just walked upon. I guess I just wish I could sometimes run out in the middle of a rain storm and know that the kids are enjoying a wet game of b-ball down at the local court. Kids get creative and learn how to have fun and work things out as a group when they engage in "child's play." From a coaches perspective I have discovered that athletes in my home town as well as anywhere in the world perform best when they are having fun. So I've chosen to enter practice with a smile on my face and the rest just falls into place.

This past weekend I joined the Varsity Boys squad for a 3 mile race in LA. They're a goofy group of 16 and 17 year olds who love to "slug bug" punch each others' 125 pound frames every time they see a Volkswagen Beetle on the road. They also asked for more all you can eat bread sticks after their three course dinner at the Olive Garden had sufficiently filled their stomachs. The thing is I remember living out those teenage days not too long so... I put up with it... and sometimes find myself shamefully joining it. I just want to be a kid... not ready to grow up and own a house and welcome debt.

The other side of sports (and the reason they will always be an exciting part of my every day) is that they bring such a competitive nature out of individuals that allow us all to perform at a higher level and thus challenge ourselves to perform our very best. It's so interesting to observe how this group of 8 goofy teenagers can focus in silence during their 40 minute warm up prior to their race, when during after school practice we coaches have to pry them away from fort building out by the eucalyptus trees so as to begin practice. It a balance of intensity and straight up fun loving attitudes.

In other activity on the Oubre front, my sisters are full of spirit, singing and dancing in the kitchen to oldies while I attempt to sing along and finish washing the dishes... the same dishes I swear I washed three hours ago. Sunday is always a day to go hear Mom read at Church and then retire to the family room with Dad to watch the improved San Francisco 49ers play fundamental football under coach Mike Singletary. I sometimes imagine if I were to go back 50 years ago and meet my grandpa from Louisiana during the volital decade of the 1950s in the South, he would be a lot like Coach Singletary on the football sidelines... no nonsense, intensely spiritual, and a "everybody listens when I talk" kind of guy.

So I'm excited my brother comes back to the Bay Area this Friday for a brief visit and then Saturday I'm off to trick-o-treat with my sister during one of the best Holidays of the year. I'm thinking maybe I'll dress as some scary green leafy creature because my dad and I have been generating plenty of green yard compost as of late or shall I straighten my hair and bring back Michael Jackson. Funny fact, the day I started feeling not so well in the DR was the the day Jackson died. That's coincidence or maybe that's saying something about my deep connection to the "King of Pop."

Have a grateful day, be silly, and get dressed up and get out on the streets for Halloween.

Peace,
Jared


Running buddies of the alma mater and me at Mt. Sac Race in LA


Celebrating win as a team

Why I'm inspired to Volunteer

There are moments when you forget your wallet leaving the house. You forget the Visa card and agenda book, the tie around your neck. You forget about Saturday morning cartoons or a second cup of coffee. Perhaps it's because you are thinking about somebody else. You have set your own schedule aside for the day so that you may give of yourself.

It's time to serve; "to help a brother out." This past weekend was dedicated to community service in my northern California hometown of Pleasant Hill. However, I was surprised to find out that on my creek clean up crew I would meet volunteers from almost every bordering suburb of Pleasant Hill. I thought it was exciting enough that I might see some of my neighbors out on the streets picking up trash, painting the youth center, or collecting donations for the food bank. But I wasn't expecting people to show up to serve in a community that was not their own? Then I thought of the story of the Peace Corps volunteer. Enter a new country, often learn a new language, and open your arms to the possibility of service... or better yet getting to know a stranger. So my goal, beside getting sweaty and dirty, became to meet some new people.

I wanted to know where these people came from and why they came? Just as I'm sure many "vecinos" (neighbors) in my Dominican Republic Village of Ojo de Aguas want to know how it is this foreigner came to move into their town and now is running around every morning with a half dozen kids and a wheel barrow collecting litter.

It was not until the sweat began to pour and our mouths called for a water break that all 20 of us creek cleaners realized we had something in common. No one was being paid and no one was going to complain about getting dirty. Why? Because this was our free time and if you didn't want to be there then why were you there? No one was working off parole hours or reducing the their jail sentence. We now all identified with each other and were no longer strangers despite the fact that the only name I knew in the group for the first half hour was of the one smiling dude who had introduced himself to me as "Jim, I clean pools."

So the story emerged that an active Bible Church near my home had attracted some 60+ members to serve the nearby community and their membership came from all over the East Bay Area to attend church. So here they were on a Saturday morning, some of them a whole hour from home, helping out the city of Pleasant Hill. While we dug out invasive reeds on the side of the creek bed and de-strangled sycamore trees from voracious ivy plants, we shared interesting stories and a similar passion for outreach, or better yet a passion for sharing. The 35 year old dad Jim, the pool cleaner guy, really opened up to me as a best friend would. We tag teamed deep roots with pick axes, chased a too-groovy-to-handle Gardner Snake, and stepped a top an intensely excited hive of yellow jackets. I've since been invited over to his house for a roast beef dinner. Then there was Dakota, the shy 8th grade girl from Benicia, California who worked without ceasing and without need of any instructions. She sure knew how to swing a pick like a pro and seemed to be smiling at the same stubborn roots that would give the rest of us a cringed face. Dakota had lived her toddler years in chilling Alaska before moving to tornado ally in Tulsa, Oklahoma and eventually on to California. We interviewed each other as we help out the community.

So I made some friends and realized that I serve because there's something special in the nature of service that unites us all. There was a spirit that day at Ellinwood Creek. I guess that's why I chose to enter the Peace Corps. Their is no prerequisite to be of service to someone else. You just need to be willing. As Martin Luther King Jr. said, "Everybody can be great, because everyone can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve... you only need a heart full of Grace, Soul generated by Love."

Serve because you want to, because you can be great.
Peace

Jared

To the Mountaintop

Mis amigos,
My time resting at home has been an opportunity to imaginatively challenge myself and reflect upon the importance of family life. My dad has nicely outlined roofing fixes, garage reorganization, tree trimming, and other sweaty summer projects. Mom is allowing sister Faith and I to plan summer dinners, all of which surprise the family for better or for worse. Thirteen layer nacho dishes and Chinese chicken salad made the taste buds smile, while sour lemonade forced puckered lips upon Dad’s face. Aside from piles of medical forms and tedious documented messes (wonder why Health Care is outrageously expensive??), much free time has led me on many spontaneous adventures.

The Continental Divide in Colorado captured my attention this past week. My dad and I moved my brother out to a new teaching job in Colorado and I found the opportunity to scale Longs Peak in Rocky Mountain National Park with two extremely nice strangers, now connected friends. The hike began at 4am in a packed parking lot and head lamps scattered across the mountain side. We crawled to the summit for a 9am “lunch break” and returned to the trail head by 3pm before thunderstorms could chase us back below tree line. The air was thin and my heart was pounding up around 14,000 ft., but I can’t be grateful enough for the chance to take such a hike. Piles of rocks owned every square inch of the glacial swept mountain tops. I now wish I had studied geology past Ms. Nelson’s sixth grade natural science class. Rocks rock dude, especially when you’re climbing around on them all day. I was on this same mountain with my family at age 7, now 23 I enjoyed the hike with a humbling spiritual flavor. Nature is some much bigger than human civilization. It pushes on the human mind. It forces one to think outside themselves. I can only contemplate the day when humans will be connected to nature; considered one with nature, “Man WITH Wild.” Perhaps my home in a California suburb will feel more natural and just as sacred as that feeling atop the mountaintop. MLK’s said he’s been to the “mountaintop” and seen the light. My goal is to get there too.

Go hike, it brings you down to Earth.

Les extrano a Uds, Jared


Joy atop Longs Peak, 14,256 ft

Dish Me

Dishes, Dishes, oh what wonderful dishes!
The suds, the foam, oh no mom's home
We're just starting, the kitchen a complete mess
But with 4 hungry children who would expect less

She calls each name, "Jared, Faith, Maya, Joel!"
"Dried corn flakes are caked upon the cereal bowls!"
"And will you look at the stove, all nice and greasy!"
"My goodness children, "The floor needs a squeegee"

So the twenty year olds all point their fingers
At 16 year old Faith, in the bathroom she lingers
"We've been waiting for her." older brother Joel says
Maya adds "Yeah that's right, we though she was dead."

"And Jared, what's your dang excuse?"
"Please tell me you wise little goose."
"Well, Joel's never here and maybe Maya sometimes"
"And I've been in the Dominican Republic lovin' sunshine"

"Okay that's nice. What more can be said."
All the twenty year olds begin to scratch their heads.
"We need a miracle, oh what shall we do?"
"Faith's in the bathroom takin' the longest pooh."

"That's not true!" screams a voice through the wall."
All them twenty year olds are straight off the ball."
I been sitting here with a sponge in me hand
While you geezers out there been acting like hams."

And with the snap her fingers and a blink of an eye
She dashed to the kitchen and cleaned them dishes dry
The twenty year olds and mama stood shocked
"She's a dish witch." their voices carried down the block

Papa Oubre woke up and put in his teeth
Upon reaching the scene they had dropped to his feet.
"Enough of this dishes and witches, I been trying to sleep
Like my papa told me, talk is cheap."

Dishes, Dishes, oh what wonderful dishes! He says with a clatter
You stubborn fools, here's the truth of the matter
"They always say the youngest learn from the rest"
"But in the end, they do the dishes best"


(A taste of my recovery life back home in Pleasant Hill, CA)