SPARKS

Week 1

In January 2011, I took part in a social and interpersonal experiment which I immensely enjoyed. One reason I was delaying my next letter is because I wanted to be able to update you about SPARKS and then continue to tell you about it when we continue in May 2011 without breaking the email cycle. That’s right; I’m leading a session of Sparks in DC with hopefully about 50 people. But I want to tell you about it now and how it went in January. Here is the letter we sent out:

Dear Friend:

Hey, this is Victor.
2011 is upon us. I want to share with you an event taking place January 11 through February 1 (Tuesdays @ 7 pm about 2 blocks from Union Station). For full details check out this blog post about the Spark Series in DC. I invite you to join me, or forward to anyone in your network who might be interested!

January is always especially full of possibilities – a chance to reset our priorities. But the rest of the year can often feel like a graveyard of good intentions that petered out back in February. This year I’m starting out with a bang – or perhaps I should say SPARK. And – if you live in Washington, D.C. – I invite you to join me.



For four weeks in January and February, I’m attending a SPARK series organized by my friend Andy Pisciotti. The series will help each person focus on this one question: What’s one thing I can do this week to make the world a better place, or myself a better person?

It can be in any area of life that you want…finance, health, romance, family, friends, spiritual, social justice, recreation/hobbies, etc. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is; all that matters is that you take a risk.

You’ll come up with an answer to that question, then we’ll come back the following week to share stories about how it went. We’ll repeat the process for a few weeks. It’ll be a great way to add some initiative to 2011, and it’s another excuse for a laid back evening with friends and food.

First, watch the 1-minute promo from SPARKgood.

Spark Promo from Spark Good Studios on Vimeo.

We’ll meet on Tuesday nights (January 11 through February 1) at 7 pm. Bring yourself. Bring friends. Bring some goals you’ve just been itching to get around to. I think you’ll find the atmosphere encouraging, inspiring and practical, too.
Contact me or Andy if you want the full details. How about starting your new year with a SPARK? Then, see it blossom in 2011.


During week 1, we just met. We had a total of about 8-10 people. In the first meeting, the concept was explained and we were given spark-generators, some worksheets that contained ideas about potential sparks (reconnecting with an estranged friend of 15 years, pursuing the man/woman of your dreams, building a home for someone in need, etc.). We ate food, talked, and discussed ideas. At the end we all shared what we thought we might do during the week. Because I have weekly communal dinners, I was hoping to open up my home to the homeless and invite them in for dinner, but because I don’t live alone, there are problems with that. So I decided what I wanted to do was to take a homeless person out to dinner. Now, I’ve taken homeless people out for a meal, but I normally have left after they receive their food. This time, I wanted to engage with them not prior to purchasing the meal and a bit afterward, but to sit down with him or her and spend time breaking bread and sharing lives. Next week, we’ll see how it went.

I’ve decided to start a new series in these email updates. Each week, I’ll tell you what happened in the subsequent week of SPARKS for me (I can only talk about me). It was an exciting time, and I quite enjoyed it. When it was over I didn’t want it to end.

Overall, it went well, though we had a few challenges about people wanting bigger and better things, about people risking bigger things. The problem was sometimes they didn’t, or they went for something that was easy instead of challenging, something that takes longer than a week instead of what could be done in a week, or something that wasn’t in their control, perhaps. So we’ll be doing it better, and we’ll do it again in May, and my friend Andy asked me to help co-lead. I’m really looking forward to it!!! VERY exciting!!

UPDATE - January 2011

10 Reasons You Know You’re Serving the Homeless in the United States



10. When serving a plate of food, a homeless man says to you “Would YOU eat that?”

9. When offering food to a homeless, hungry man he says to you “Is it cold? I don’t eat cold food.”

8. When offering salad to a homeless woman, she says “No crunchy pieces. Only salad with no croutons.”

7. When offering salad to a homeless person, he says “I don’t eat salad.”

6. A homeless man looks at the food I’m offering him and says, “Hey, even homeless people have standards! You know what I mean?”

5. A homeless man sees you without a phone and offers you one of his two cell phones.

4. A homeless woman in a soup kitchen turns down your Moroccan chicken soup saying, “No, thanks. I’m a vegetarian.”

3. A homeless person offers you a job.

2. A homeless man pats his tummy and says to you “I’ve decided I need to lose a few pounds.”

1. A homeless man complains about rising prices and backs it up by showing you his energy bills.



UPDATE

All those top ten stories are real by the way. No joke.

Hi, everyone. I’m back. I took a break because I didn’t like some of the responses I received back and needed to take a break from writing. It’s really hard to write about yourself all the time (especially once a week); sometimes you need a break from it. But I’m back.

The biggest item at the moment is next year. I’m in job searching mode as my fellowship will end in August next year (2011). It is possible that I could be hired on, but since that is unknown, I need to go ahead and start looking. I’m not very motivated to do so at the moment.

Last night I had a progressive dinner; they are one of my favorite things. We had a 6-course meal where each course was hosted at a different person’s house. I was the organizers and I offered my house for one host whose house was too far out of the way. I had to plan the route so that you didn’t walk too many blocks between houses. We hosted the progressive dinner for 20 people, and even though people canceled their RSVP they day of the event and new people asked to come the day of the event, even though some left early and some started the route late, it was a good night. I enjoyed meeting all the people I did and hopefully developed some old relationships. I’m working on developing new ones as well.

I haven’t written in 4 months, so I wanted to share that this fall we had an acorn epidemic. I walk a lot in DC, for fun sometimes, too. And I will be walking outside; all of a sudden, I hear a large thud that sounds like someone threw a rock at a car or a squirrel fell. But when I look I don’t see anything. Slowly after seeing this a number of times, I’ve realized it’s acorns, falling acorns. We have the largest acorns I have seen in my life. They are like small boulders. When one falls on you, you wake up the next day. They damage cars. Squirrels consider this part of the country paradise. Rodents play pirates treasure with them. And the candy corn industry booms at Halloween time.

But my favorite part of my day in my daily walks is a walk through a certain part of my neighborhood that has a mix of White and Black and some Latino peoples and Asian dry cleaners whom I love but who fail to get stains out of clothes (I really believe cleaning was supposed to involve water). In this part of my neighborhood there is one house I love. This particular house has a garden in the front and the back. And most times during the day. Though you can’t see the back of the house, you can see in the front that they are growing various vegetables and roots and perhaps herbs and spices. What makes this place lovely is not the actual house itself; it needs help. But the people there are always out and they are always ready to talk with anyone who wants to stop and talk or “shoot the breeze.” It reminds me of what I call the “porch culture.” I love porches (communities with porches) because they foster and cultivate a culture of neighborliness and community in your neighborhood if you let it. People sit on the porches in the cool of the evening or dawn and they talk to their neighbors. And that’s what happens at this house. The man who lives there is a big man, who walks slowly, and has a hole in his trachea from an operation. But his heart is big.

I still haven’t told you why I like this house. What is amazing is that this man takes the vegetables he grows and puts them in boxes on tables at the edge of his yard/garden near the sidewalk. And anyone may take some home! I love this. Few people in my side of the neighborhood understand this, but it’s what I understand about how to live. He sows alone but allows others to reap where they have not sown with no obligations or strings attached or expectations. Take and eat freely. It’s a gift (a true gift is one that you don’t endeavor to pay back). And I love it. It’s also practical; a lot of what he grows would go to waste if he didn’t give it away. And do you know many of the conversations had in his yard outside his house start from people rummaging through the vegetables and food left for people to take--kale, potatoes, cabbage, carrots, etc.

But let me finish. It’s my favorite part of my day (I doesn’t take much, huh? Ha!) even when no one is there talking, even when no food is there to share. It’s my favorite part of my day because in his yard is a toilet. I’m tearing a bit because of the symbolism of it. When facing the yard in front of the house, the toilet is against the right border of his yard, up against a wooden fence, 3 feet high. The toilet base of the toilet is almost hidden in dirt. You can only see the very top part of the base as it reaches and curves toward the site and tank. But not only is there dirt packed around the rooted toilet but inside the toilet there is dirt. The seat is open and spring up from the depths of the toilet bowl are flowers growing in the dirt and soil and muck of the toilet. They are strong flowers, sprightly and eager, reaching to the sun as they reflect its rays in their yellow and orange “carnations.” Their stems are as green as goodness and they grow with no regard for their home or where they started or their environment. But that’s not all. There is also dirt in the tank. It’s lid is missing and out of the tank, more flowers spring forth and grow. For some reason I have hope when I pass it. It doesn’t mean any of my situations will necessarily change. It doesn’t mean that everything I’ve lost recently will be reclaimed right now. But it means there are people that are in the business of reclaiming, redeeming, reusing, and reinventing. And that is the kind of work that inspires and lights. I see these types of moments of lucid clarity and bright illumination all around. And the movement is growing.

It’s art but it’s art of a different kind; it’s living art. It reminds me of the ancient Jewish prophet who prophetically (and I still wait to this day) spoke of a day when we would “beat swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks,.” It reminds me that I’ve got muck in my life and some mistakes whose effects I still feel, but it can be made recreated. The toilet doesn’t go away, but it’s reinvented and new life can be born. This life is different than I imagined, but it’s new. It’s new, and it’s life.