Image is Everything?

“It is not the image you would see. Nor the song you would hear. But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears…” ~Kahil Gibran, Lebanese born, American essayist, novelist and poet (1883-1931)


The Convent of the Missionaries of Charity, just outside Nairobi, Kenya sits atop a hill overlooking a poverty stricken valley. It is a fitting place for this sanctuary, home to the religious order started by Mother Teresa of Calcutta. Fitting, because it is adjacent to the second largest slum in the world, Kibera; home to over a million people living in grinding poverty and the most deplorable conditions imaginable. The Sisters are easily identified by their white habits with the familiar Marian blue stripes, as they go about their business serving the poor.

We arrived in time for morning Mass. There were small wooden benches (luxuries) in the back for us. The Sisters and Novices knelt on the floor, their feet bare, as their shoes remained outside. Their sole possessions in life are two habits and a bucket. The reason is eminently practical: one habit is worn while the other is washed using the bucket. Mass began. They sang like angels. Hymnals are nonessentials, so each had a small notebook in which they wrote the words to the hymns they sang. Mass ended, but we remained for prayers. Finally, we quietly filed out of the room. As we stood outside chatting, two novices rolled up the thin carpet in the room we had just exited, exposing a gray concrete floor. Even that little bit of padding had been solely for our comfort not theirs.

The Sister’s mission is to care for some of the most marginalized of society…those who are severely mentally and often physically challenged. Sometimes, children are brought to the convent gate by their families, but often as not, members of the Order retrieve them from wherever they have been discarded. Many are left by a contaminated stream which runs through the valley which Kibera occupies.

We were escorted to a large gathering room, a common area at the heart of the facility; and it beat like a heart. The residents filled wheelchairs and benches. Small beds lined the walls for those who could not sit in wheelchairs. We were greeted by the sound of a drum and singing. There were no televisions here, lulling the residents into a technological haze. The room was alive with activity, which stimulated the senses. We danced, we clapped and we sang. I found myself seated on a wooden bench, my arms around the shoulders of two people who would undoubtedly never leave the facility. We swayed to the sounds.

A group of Spanish nursing students arrived and the Macarena began. Suddenly, one of the resident revelers launched herself from her wheelchair onto the floor. Several of us leapt to our feet thinking she was in the early throes of a grand mal seizure. Quickly we realized her writhing was not a seizure, but her version of the dance. The Spanish girls smoothly formed a circle making the resident the center of the event. As the dance ended the girls hoisted her from the floor. She rose like Aphrodite from her shell, a radiant smile upon her face, and then she was carefully nestled back into her chair. Tears of joy glistened in our eyes as we watched.

My wife stood next to the Mother Superior; a small Indian woman with a remarkable aura of peace about her. A wave of tranquility seemed to envelope her and those around her. “How long do you keep them here?” Teresa asked. “Until they die,” she replied simply. And so the dance continued.

“Image is Everything,” an ad for the Canon Rebel camera, featuring Andre Agassi, was one of the most successful ad campaigns of the early 1990’s. But, if image were everything, most of us would be in big trouble (particularly in the early morning hours). And yet, many of us allow our image (what people think of us) to control a great deal of what we say, what we do, how we look and how we act. I often catch myself asking my wife, “How do I look?” Making sure I leave the house projecting the proper image.

Unfortunately, this approach can channel our energies away from the more important things in life. I’m not suggesting it’s bad to look good, but conditioning ourselves to respond based upon the outward effect versus the inner spirit can deprive us of a great deal of joy. Besides, it can be emotionally taxing and even exhausting.

When the resident exited her wheelchair, in favor of dancing on the floor like the rest of us, many of our first-world, western minds immediately thought, “How does this look?” A mentally and physically challenged patient, writhing on the floor of a care facility in Los Angeles would be met with an immediate response and probably restraints. I doubt the caregivers would join in the dance.

But, joy does not come from the exterior image: matching clothes, properly accessorized, saying and doing the right things at the right time. Joy comes from our inner spirit; that impulse to move our feet to the beat of a drum or sing along with the car radio when no one else is around. Keeping up appearances takes concentration, saps energy and when there are slips, cracks in the well prepared façade, it makes us cranky or downright irritable.

Decorum is overrated. The take-your-shoes-off-and-dance, wedding-cake-in-the-face world is a lot more fun (and real). Image isn’t everything. Our inner joy shining through is everything. Come…join the dance!

Dear God: Teach me to dance!

“This isn’t gonna look good on a resume!” ~Robin Williams (Good Morning Vietnam, 1987)

© 2010 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
“90 Second Stewardship” This reflection is written by James E. Carper, Stewardship Coordinator for Saint Monica Catholic Community in Santa Monica, California. All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2010 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the ”© 2010 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.