One of the greatest challenges of living in community has been navigating the intersections of seven very different personalities. Over the past two months, each of us has been been learning how the others communicate, relax, express affection, and react to stress (which is perhaps the most valuable piece of information when it comes to diffusing community conflicts!) As a group, we've been learning what "clean" means to each of us and who among us has the highest tolerance for messiness; who needs constant social interaction and who needs regular time alone.

At our last community night, we all took an informal Enneagram test to learn more about our personalities, in the hopes that doing so would help us to foster greater harmony in our community. The Enneagram groups personalities within 9 types, each assigned a number and a descriptor. Without naming any names, let me just say that we learned that our community is composed of a perfectionist (a One), a questioner (a Six), three adventurers (Sevens), a romantic (a Four), and a peacemaker (a Nine - good thing we've got at least one!)

I have to confess that I'm a huge fan of personality tests. I admit that it may be problematic to assign unique individuals to specific personality types on the basis of a few yes or no questions, but I also think it's pretty amazing how, in our community at least, most of results were pretty accurate. It was fun realizing that in just two months, we've gotten to know each other well enough to laugh at how aptly the type descriptions matched the idiosyncrasies of each of our personalities.

I've been trying to use some of the Enneagram's information about my personality to live in a healthier, happier manner. According to our amateur test, I am a romantic with strong perfectionist and peacemaker traits. One piece of advice that our Enneagram book gives to Fours is to "channel your feelings into creative activities". Working full-time in a domestic violence shelter often leaves me carrying a weight of sorrow, frustration, anger, and regret at the end of the week - a lot of feelings that could use some creative channeling. This weekend, I decided to direct my creative energies to the kitchen, and baked a (hopefully delicious) apple pie with a homemade butter-free crust. I followed a recipe I found online, but left out the cranberries, added cinnamon to the filling, and substituted the juice and zest from an orange for that of a lemon to give some added sweetness.

Our community just returned from our October Weekend Retreat, a chance for all of the JVC communities in the "southern" half of the East Coast to come together for a few days of prayer and relaxation. We joined the JV's from Raleigh, DC, Baltimore, Newark, and Camden at Our Lady of Mattaponi Retreat Center in Upper Marlboro, MD...otherwise known as the Dharma Initiative (Lost fans, see photo evidence below!)

It's not a good day at the shelter, even for a Monday. One of our residents passed away over the weekend from a drug overdose. She was 26. She'd been in and out of the shelter since she was 19. Sometimes she brought her children with her. Other times, like this most recent stay, they were in DHS custody. Staff members who knew her say that WAA was the closest she had to family.

There's a memorial service planned for tomorrow afternoon, where staff and residents will be invited to share prayers, poems, songs and memories, and to say a final good-bye. Having started here only a few weeks ago, I didn't know this particular woman; I've heard her mentioned at staff meetings, but can't put a face to the name. I keep thinking that here in this building are most of the people who did know her, and who know and care that she's gone.

It's a strange, sad day. Life goes on here as it always does. It's just another burden to bear for these women who, like their deceased sister, have endured far more than anyone should.

This week at work, I was officially assigned my first four clients! As a case manager, I'm responsible for accompanying these women during their time in the WAA shelter. Since an emergency shelter is not meant to be a permanent home for anyone, most of what my job involves is assessing my clients' current needs and then planning for the time when they will leave the shelter. We explore housing options (ranging from independent rentals to city-funded transitional housing programs), file for public benefits as needed, and discuss goals related to employment and education. Despite the 40 hours of training I just completed, this week has been filled with quite a bit of learning on my feet! I've had a crash course on the public benefits and public housing systems in Philadelphia, not to mention having my eyes opened to the tremendous obstacles that the combination of domestic violence and poverty can place in a person's path.

At times I find myself becoming overwhelmed by the multitude of burdens my clients have to carry each day - I can only imagine how they themselves must feel. Sometimes they'll tell me a fraction of it, in measured voices incongruous with the meaning of their words. Other times their pain and frustration finds other outlets, such as acts of aggression towards staff or fellow shelter residents.

It's a challenge to see my clients as whole people - not simply notes in a case file jotted down during a sixty minute intake, or the subject of incident reports written up after altercations with others, or the sum of impressions formed during brief encounters and conversations that can only reveal partial truths. But at the same time, it's such a paradoxically joyous challenge, one that is pushing me to break open the empty casings of appearance and circumstance in the hope of revealing the beauty and dignity within each person who passes through the shelter's doors.

Most of all, this job is deeply humbly. Every day I am confronted with problems I have no means of solving, systems I have no experience navigating, people I too often have no idea how to help. I am fortunate to have the support of my colleagues at the shelter - strong, compassionate individuals who understand the risks and rewards of this line of work, and who know that a team approach provides the best chance of serving the myriad needs of the women and children we are all there to support. Their wisdom helps to compensate for my inexperience. And through it all, I am trying to trust that God will make up the difference when even the best of our human wisdom, compassion, and strength falls short.

The organization I'm working for this year just produced a documentary on domestic violence. There were some interesting comments made by folks in the documentary about the connection between violence in homes and the violence seen on innercity streets. It's well documented that children exposed to domestic violence are more likely to become involved in situations of DV as adults, whether as victims or abusers, but we don't often talk about the less clear-cut connections between interpersonal violence and violence within larger communities - cities, nations, ethnic groups, religious sects. We don't connect the violence that we perpetrate against one another in the secret corners of our lives with the violence that manifests itself in gang wars and drive-by shootings; in suicide bombings and terrorist attacks; in global warfare and nuclear proliferation; in the structures and systems that dictate length and quality of life based on race, gender identity, nationality, citizenship, sexual orientation, language, class, religious beliefs, and a host of other factors that have nothing to do with each of our inherent worth and dignity as human beings.

I really think it's important to consider that the way we treat those closest to us in our daily lives has consequences for how we exist as a society and as a human family. It's interesting to consider that the first mention of violence in Genesis is a brutal act of interpersonal violence - the murder of one brother by another. Even the story of the first sin takes place within the context of an interpersonal relationship. I've heard it said that the true weight of Adam and Eve's sin came not from their disobedience of God's command, but from the deception they employed when questioned about it - Adam tries to pass the blame to Eve, who tries to pass it to the serpent. The first lies are told, bonds of sacred trust are broken, and humankind is cast out of paradises.

It helps me to think about that carpenter's son who came to remind us that our relationships with one another are a vital part of what constitutes our relationship with God. That man who made no distinction between love of God and love of neighbor; who was himself the victim of a violent state execution, but who reopened for us the gates of paradise, of that kingdom of love and light.

It may sound trite, but I really do hope and pray that if all of us are just a little more like him, we can begin to heal the hurt in our lives, our relationships, our nations, and our world.

Thursday night (in addition to being Taco Thursday) was Spirituality Night for our community. I've really been missing praying the Liturgy of the Hours lately, so I volunteered to create a reimagined version of Evening Prayer, using quotes and passages suggested by the community in place of the official psalms and readings. I have to say, I was rather pleased with how it all turned out :-) There's something so joyful about praying in community, especially in the call-and-response format of the Liturgy of the Hours. I love the safety and the sanctity created by the rhythm of our voices, by the intentionality of our words. It was also wonderful to share with my community a form of prayer that is so special to me, in a way that I hope allowed each one of us to find some meaning.

In other news, we've decided to be a bit more environmentally-conscious in our community by composting - or, more accurately, by joining a Philadelphia-based program that provides pick-up service for compostable organic waste (the perfect solution for composting neophytes like ourselves!) Our "collection container" was dropped off this evening. During the week we'll fill it with fruit cores, vegetable peels, coffee grinds, tea bags, egg shells, clean paper, and cardboard (plus a few surprising things like dryer and vacuum cleaner lint...) Every Thursday night, the guys who run the program will swing by our house to pick up our organic waste, which they'll take to what I'm assuming is their own giant compost pile. Instant composting, with none of the smell or the hassle - and for only $10/month! The company is called Bennett Compost (http://www.bennettcompost.com/), and while it only serves Philadelphia, it's a great idea that could easily be implemented in other cities. For much better information on the benefits of composting than I could possibly provide, check out the EPA's website: http://www.epa.gov/epawaste/conserve/rrr/composting/benefits.htm.

It's such a blessing to feel the different values of JVC coming together in unexpected ways - a spiritual exercise becomes an opportunity for community bonding; an aspect of simple living raises our consciousness towards issues of social justice. We're certainly not living quite as intentional, integrated lives as we could be all of the time - but in some moments, the beauty and value of this year-long experiment become so clear, enveloping my soul in joy and thanksgiving.