I sit here again, trying to write a ten-year reflection about KS. It should be an easy task. So much has occurred in the past ten years that I thought the challenge would be when to stop writing, not necessarily where to begin. I originally wanted this blog to be finished and posted last Wednesday, which would have been the 10-day countdown to the 10th anniversary; it would have been pretty cool. However, as much as I sometimes think that I have some pretty good plans, I have come to learn, slowly, and sometimes even painfully, how small my perspective my ideas can be. The one thing that our ideas cannot fully incorporate or sometimes even really consider is life. In real life, we realize we have no control over those unexpected surprises. Those unexpected surprises can take an idea or plan that seems so on course to perfection, completely astray, and change everything. One might see these unexpected surprises, these catalysts for change, as damaging, not allowing our original plans to come to fruition; however, maybe, just maybe, they are a gift. In our tiny minds, in our small perspective, when we think we have good ideas, we can often only think of the good that could not come to fruition when those ideas cannot be generated. However, it could also be a blessing that those ideas, at that time, at that place, were not the perfect timing or even the perfect idea.
A challenge in our culture is this feeling and desire for instant gratification. We want and desire things instantly. I want a new pair of shoes. I order online and can have them at my door the next day. If I am hungry for a particular type of food, I can order it online and have it delivered to my door often within 20-45 minutes. We crave, consume, and are shortly satisfied; before we know it, we move on to the next thing. The next craving, only to begin the cycle again. We think satisfying those cravings will bring satisfaction, perhaps a bit of joy, or even peace into my chaotic day, especially, ESPECIALLY when things do not go as expected. However, it is always short-term, not lasting, so the cycle begins repeatedly.
I still struggle, although I know that those will ultimately not bring any real complete sense of peace. One of the fundamental realizations I have only realized through the last ten years of being director of Kulturschöpfer is that I have a longing for beauty, identity, and community. Only when those longings are fulfilled can I experience the fullness of peace in my life, which many cultures call shalom. That is what I long for amidst the chaos of life, my plans not being able to come to fruition, and the disappointment and frustration.
It is so hard to separate my story from the story of Kulturschöpfer. They are so intertwined in some ways that I do not know where one begins and the other ends. My identity is not in Kulturschöpfer, at least at this point in my life. I am sure that at the beginning, it was one of the places I looked to find my identity. What I mean is that I think one of the reasons that I have struggled so much at writing this, as I said in the beginning, was where to begin. Because the reality is, is that the story of Kulturschöpfer began in January 1979, when I was born. You see, there was a story that needed to be written in order for the story of Kulturschöpfer to begin; without the first story, there would not be the second. The crazy thing about it is that it is not just my story; there are literally hundreds of stories that needed to be written, even before Kulturschöpfer existed, in order for the story of Kulturschöpfer to exist and be told. The story of Kulturschöpfer is much longer than a ten-year history; how does one summarize a lifetime, not just of one individually, but of so many that have walked through these doors, of whose stories we have heard and been part of? It is overwhelming.
Honestly, it is hard to remember all the details of the opening party ten years ago. The day we first opened our doors to the public was on 21.09.2013. Two things actually stand out more. The first is how KS came to be, which was the telling of my story to others, a story of brokenness, of disappointment, a longing to be known and a longing to belong, and to experience the fullness of beauty when often I just felt like I was a misfit, alone and misunderstood. It was when I told my story that I realized I was not alone and that others out there felt the same struggle. It was out of that; it was out of brokenness; it was out of many things in my life and the lives of others whose plans, ideas, and hopes were not able to come to fruition, was KS able to be born. In many ways, out of death came life.
The second thing that stands out is the day we got the space keys, standing in front of the building where the main entrance to KS is. Tears come to my eyes as I reflect back because so many emotions are tied to that moment. It was a whirl of emotions, a combination of hope and fear. So much hope, so much excitement, so many ideas, so many dreams. Then there was the fear of who am I? the fear of failure, the fear of disappointing others, the fear of not being good enough, and the fear that this is too big for me. The thought of having to prove myself or make sure that this project, this crazy wild idea, can be a ‘success,’ whatever the hell that meant. This meant, in the short run, experiencing burnout and not leading others well in the beginning.
There was a part of me when we opened KS that it really was, in some ways, a craving, and in some ways, I also just consumed and enjoyed the successes in the beginning, only to satisfy my desires. However, it only felt good when things were going well, at least according to my plan, which, honestly, did not last long. I was often confronted with my pride, ego, and selfish desires. I was able to, well, sometimes, hide it well, but inside, it was tearing me apart. It was not until I was able to let KS go, not to find my identity in the organization, that it became what it is today. When I was able to let it go, it was no longer just about my story but also about the hundreds of other stories of those who would not only impact the story of KS but who would impact me, who would change me for the better and become part of my story.
You see, it is a longer story of change, one that has not been instant and one that has, in many ways, not gone according to plan. However, it is far, far more beautiful than anything I could have ever imagined or hoped for. It is not a short story of one individual but a long novel of complicated, broken, and beautiful people. It is not a solo but a symphony playing a complicated requiem that stirs the soul. I could go on about all the amazing things I have seen and experienced and how I have grown; however, that story is too long for a blog. Plus, it is a story still being written for me and so many others. I sit at my desk, thankful for how those who have entered my story have helped me know beauty, discover my identity, and experience community. I sit here with so much shalom and thankfulness, a gift I do not deserve. Thank you to each one of you; I would not be who I am today if it were not for you. Engage. Create. Inspire.