Serva Me, Servabote: Save me and I'll save you

Serva Me, Servabote: Save me and I'll save you

They shared the same tattoo. It said the same thing, translated into the same phrase..."Serva me, Servabote": Save Me and I'll Save You. She believed it with all her heart; she had saved him. He could have gone down a different path, the path of destruction and trouble, a path too many of his friends were heading down. But she had done it: tamed the wild animal, made him love her. Still, you can take a lion out of the jungle, but you can never take the jungle out of the lion. He was in need of some salvation.

He was going to move in with her, pick up his life in Jersey and head down to Florida, where she had moved to escape the madness of her cluttered mind. She needed a permanent vacation, shocked by how much his disease had consumed her, but she wanted him to move down with her anyway. Yet like all wild animals, they use instinct. His moves were predictable. I had seen him go through two of my other good friends, ripping their hearts out with his jagged teeth, his sharp claws. He was in need of some salvation.

The next step in his predictable line of action: draw back. He is afraid. He has always been afraid. Lies, manipulation, mind games...the usual batch of toxic words and recycled phrases and actions. His claws sank deeper into her flesh. Hundreds of miles away, she cried out in anguish. Her hurt stretched the distance, but fell short of meeting him. He had pushed her farther away than she actually was. He was scared and she had believed in him, having faith, trust, hope in him. Hope that maybe if she could save him, he could save her. He was in need of some salvation. She was in need of some salvation.

She said, "I have a tattoo on me that doesn't mean anything. Because I never saved him." Serva me, Servabote. Save me and I'll save you. Bruised and battered from the wild lion, her last drops of hope in something, someone were drying up. She was in need of some salvation.

I told her, "Maybe it does mean something still. That as much as you try to save another person, the truth is you can only save yourself." We're all in need of some salvation.

the poetry of "why"

"I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious." -Albert Einstein

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I had a class when I went to St. John's University that taught me to critically question everything I've ever been told or taught. Surprisingly, it was a theology class. We would read religious texts and then essays written by atheists. I had been dreading theology, since everyone in our school said it was a bore, but I was lucky enough to have a progressive thinker for a teacher who wanted to present us with both sides of the story.

Growing up I questioned everything, and still to this day you can count on me to ask "why" a hundred times in a day. I have never been okay with a simple response. I want a deep, thoughtful answer that considers different views. Not: "this is the way it's always been done", or because "this is what we've been taught." My best friend Christina can attest to the fact that our priest hated me, as I questioned everything he said. Not because I was a rude, disrespectful teen, but because curiosity is one of my most defining characteristics.

I'm sure your mom, like my own, always used annoying cliches to get her point across. One of my mother's favorites was "curiosity killed the cat", but (not shockingly), I disagree. Curiosity, the question of "why", the art of pondering, is vital to our growth and expansion. There is poetry in why. Asking a question allows your mind to explore a topic in detail, to become familiar and unfamiliar with it, to alter your perception on something you once or currently believe.

There is a Russian word, "ostranenie", which embodies the question of why. It means defamiliarization; it's an artistic technique to view ordinary things, concepts, and objects as new, in order to expand perception of it. We must constantly be questioning concepts and beliefs in order to see them as new or to gather a deeper understanding. How can you believe in something without having a rounded view of it? I struggle sometimes with my career in nursing, because so many just accept what they are told, taught, or have experienced. But it is ignorant to be stuck in this one-sided view. Go deeper. Ask why. Question everything. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but at least he has died with conviction, with creativity, with adventures, and with having answered his call to question. 

I urge you to look at the other side of everything you have ever been taught. Be curious in your craft, in your spirituality, in your relationships, in how you orchestrate your life. Do not just accept the plated version of your knowledge. Deconstruct everything. Find the raw materials of a fact, look at it from different angles, point of views, and heights. Play devils advocate. And always, always ask "Why?"

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