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Do you stay or do you go?

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It is easy to stay in a job, a friendship, a marriage when things are good. But it isn’t always good. What do you do then? Do you stay or do you go?

There are different ways of going other than actually leaving. You can stop participating. You can “go along to get along”.

You can write out your rebuttal and then say at the end that no reply is expected, and even if there is a reply it won’t be read.

That too is leaving, that too is running away.

But how do you stay? Staying is hard. It is being willing to listen to the other person. It is being willing to engage in dialogue.

Nobody likes a fight. Nobody likes to disagree. I’ve heard some people say that they are “conflict adverse”. Of course they are. Normal people don’t seek out arguments.

But arguments happen all the time. We see things differently. We like to be right. When someone speaks their mind and it differs from your mind, what happens then?

That is “where the rubber meets the road”. That is where things get real.

Do you stay, or do you go?

In part, it depends on your investment in the situation. Can you afford to leave? How much time and energy have you put into this relationship?

It is ok to cut out. It is ok to leave. It isn’t ok to do that all the time. If you make a habit of leaving when things get hard, when things get real, then you’re making a habit of leaving.

A life filled with leaving isn’t really a life.

Stay. Stay with it when it gets hard. Stay with it, because staying with it is all that stands between you and anonymity. Stay with it because to always leave is to disappear, to dissolve.

Communication breakdown

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People just want to be understood. They want to know that they matter, that their voice matters. Nothing is worse than not being able to communicate. Not everybody can communicate verbally. It is important to have as many ways as possible.

Babies that are taught sign language show less frustration than other ones. They are not able to master speech at an early age, but simplified gestural language is perfect for them. With baby sign language they can express if they are hungry, or tired, or hurt. This cuts down on the frustration for them and their parents.

Adults have the same needs. They just want to be understood. People need to be Seen and Heard. Communication is the responsibility of the producer and the consumer. It is important to speak clearly, and to pay attention. But what if you can’t speak well? Then you can draw, or paint, or write, or dance, or bead, or any other number of ways of getting your idea out.

It is essential for humans to be creative. That is what makes us human. We need to express ourselves, and to share what we feel with others. When they don’t understand us, we feel isolated and lost. That sense of connection, of community, is a hallmark of humanity.

I believe that if we teach all people different ways of expressing themselves, and we teach all people how to “listen”, then we will have peace. I believe that we won’t have violence towards self or others.

I believe that all violence, whether directed against the self or others, is the result of people not being able to connect to others because of a communication breakdown.

Poem – “Fighting for our Freedom”

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We tell our children to trust us
And then we send them off to war.

We tell them that they are “fighting for our freedom”
but really we are sending them to die.

They fight for oil. They fight for glory.

They fight for nothing more
than to prove that the American Way
is the only way.

We’ve become the hall monitors
the snitches
the bullies
of the world.
What we say goes.

We are the ones who go and tell countries to stop
doing things their way
and to start doing things
our way.

Because our way is best,
you see?

Rampant obesity, depression, anxiety
in children and adults.
People stocking up canned goods
and dried milk
and ammunition
enough for years
enough for an outbreak of
zombies
or talk show hosts.

Same thing.

Our way is best.
Be like us.

With one in four children
going to bed hungry,
with people graduating high school
who still don’t know how to read
or think
for themselves,

our way is best, you see?

America, heal thyself.
Then,
if you have any money left over
after every child is fully fed
and fully educated
and every person has
a job
and a home
then maybe
you can think
about sending out your citizens
as ambassadors of this new
American Way
instead.

What about we “fight for freedom”
with love
instead of bullets?

What if we teach and train
instead of terrorize?

Oh, no, they say,
we aren’t the terrorists.
The terrorists are our enemies.

But how are we different
when we impose our will
on another nation,
another culture
by force
at the point of a gun?

Let’s invade them with water wells
and textbooks
and fresh food
and self esteem
and peace
instead.

But first, let’s practice here
to make sure we’ve got it right.

Eulogy for a young mother who died tragically. (Be open to grief)

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There are no words for our grief. We are here together, wordless, numb, and hurting. We cannot make sense of this senseless loss.

But we are here. We are here to pay our respects to Hannah. We are here together as a testament to our love for our friend, our coworker, our wife, our mother. We are here searching to make sense out of a senseless thing.

Let us comfort each other in our grief. Let us take this time now to cry with each other, to hold each other, to wail with each other. I invite you to do this now.

In some traditions there is something known as Passing the Peace. You do it by shaking the hand or hugging all the people next to you, one at a time. You say “Peace be with you” It is done as a sign of reconciliation. It is done right before communion, because it is important to approach the Lord’s table with an empty heart – one that is free of the burdens of grief and anger. Those feelings keep us away from our true nature, which is love.

When we are angry or grieving we are closed off and cold. The purpose of reconciliation is to make us open and warm. When we are open we grow. When we are closed we die.

Many of us are angry right now. We want answers and there aren’t any. Why did Hannah have to die? Why did someone we love get taken away from us, so soon in her life?

Many of us are angry at God, and that is alright. Be angry. God can handle it. We are the ones who can’t handle it if we hold it in.

I’m not here to explain any of this. I can’t tell you why she died the way she did. I’m not here to tell you that it will all make sense and it is part of God’s plan. Because it will never make sense. And I don’t believe that God plans for us to feel pain, certainly not this kind of pain.

I believe that God is crying with us, is wailing with us, and is holding us right now. I believe that each time we share our grief with each other, God shares our grief with us.

God is there, acting through us. God is in the arms of the person you hug in your grief. God is in our arms as we hug them.

I invite you to be open. I invite you to open yourself to these feelings and to let them out. Cry. Wail. Talk about Hannah. Talk about how you love her.

Notice I said love, and not loved. There is no past tense with love. Love doesn’t end with death, it just changes shape. Where before the shape was the size of Hannah, now it has to expand. It has to get big enough for us to include each other in it. Every person here has a tiny bit of Hannah in them. When we share our grief with each other, we are also sharing Hannah with each other.

Open up. Don’t close yourself off.

Our society teaches silence and stoicism. Our society teaches us to have a stiff upper lip and that big boys don’t cry. Our society is full of it.

Cry. Let it out. Let it out because that grief will hold you back from life. That grief will hold you back from love.

That grief, locked up, will hold you down under the waves for so long that you’ll stop being able to breathe. That grief, locked up, will kill you. Maybe not literally, but you’ll be dead just as certainly as you would be if you drowned. Grief, locked up, leads to a certain half-life, a certain zombie like existence. Grief, locked up, only delays the pain, it doesn’t get rid of it. Let it out, and live.

Let it out because you have to. Let it out because you must, because you love Hannah.

Talk about her. Celebrate her life. Celebrate the time she spent with you and everything you did together. Do something in honor of her, something that you both enjoyed doing together. Donate to a charity in her name. Plant a tree. Paint. Write. Dance.

Many people say that to show joy in grief is to show disrespect to the person you are grieving for. I say that to not show joy is to not show the love you have for her.

We grieve deeply because we love deeply.

Be open. Be open because you love Hannah.

Peace be with you.

(Written as a eulogy for a young mother who died tragically.)

Good Morning

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I’m reassessing how I do my mornings. I have an alarm clock set for 6:30, but I don’t seem to be able to get out of bed until 7ish. It is very frustrating. I’d like to think that I am in control. It reminds me of my struggles with any addiction. There are things I want to do that I know are good for me, yet I seem helpless to do them.

So I’m thinking about it. Why can’t I get up? What is the problem?

I don’t need to get up that early. I just want to. I want to have more time to write or paint or do yoga. I deeply resent having to spend 40 hours of my week at work. That is a lot of my waking time. It is a lot of my life. Thirty hours would be reasonable but that isn’t an option. Not only is that not something my workplace will even consider because of how the pension plan is set up, I’m not sure we could afford that kind of pay cut.

I find that it is hard to get up early for several reasons.

I usually stay up late to read. I don’t have much time to read otherwise. Back to the 40 hour work week. My main chunks of time, other than work, are spent asleep. I shoehorn in exercise, visits with friends, and everything else I want to do or need to do. I don’t have a lot of time to read. Or I don’t make a lot of time. I read at lunch, but right before bed seems to be the best. I’m not in a rush. Sometimes at night I really get into a book though and it is hard to stop. Then I don’t get enough sleep and I’m tired in the morning.

Another issue is my husband. He has to leave for work before I do but it is always a scene of frazzlement in our house when he is getting ready. The center of our house is the kitchen. It is where our computers are, and where he has all his work gear. It is the biggest room in our tiny house.

If I try to start my day while he is trying to leave the house it is the exact opposite of calm for me. It is not a good start for my day to be in that whirlwind. Ideally, he’d leave earlier, but running late is his normal. I can fight it or accept it and just get out of the way and not let this train run me over.

So I’m trying this. I’ve brought my Kindle into the bedroom. I can write for a bit, out of the madness that is the morning here. I can choose to start my day calmly.

It isn’t about the situation. It is about my reaction to the situation. That’s the key to everything. I can fight it or work with it or around it. My choice.

Time and silence

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(This was written at last weekend’s silent retreat, at 9:30 am on 1-18-14. I’d come to some understanding after this, but as the struggle is part of it, I’m posting this too.)

I keep looking at the clock. I don’t want to be late. I don’t want to miss anything.

This is so much like how I’m living my life right now. I’m not trusting that I’m on the right path, but I know I am. I’m not living in the moment, but I know I should.

There isn’t much going on. It isn’t like this kind of retreat is jam packed. There’s an optional centering prayer. There’s mealtimes. I’ve got an appointment with a spiritual director. Not much going on at all, in fact. That’s the point.

It isn’t like Cursillo at all. Every moment was scheduled with that. There was a little time for a walk or going to the bathroom, but nothing going for naptime. Even regular sleep was shortened. I think that was very intentional. Sleep deprivation is a cheap way to produce altered reality.

But at Cursillo they at least had a bell. I didn’t have to wonder what to do next or when to do it. The retreat leaders did all the thinking for me. It left me open to do as I needed, and that was to plug directly into the Source. Now, one thing there was that you couldn’t skip anything. Everybody had to be present for a program to start.

I was late to centering prayer this morning. I thought I was early but my clock was wrong. I missed the instructions. I’d gotten them the night before and not read them. I’m pretty sure I was doing it wrong. But I was there and quiet and trying to be receptive.

The word I chose was light. I hadn’t planned on it. It is what came to me.

Sometimes I think just showing up is part of it. I think also being honest with yourself is also part of it. I’d signed up to do yoga last night but I skipped it because I was in the middle of a good write. I found myself resenting stopping what I was doing to go to yoga. It was optional anyway.

I’m learning that just because the retreat is silent doesn’t mean my head is silent. There are a lot of thoughts crowded in there, jockeying for attention.

9-11-2013

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Today is the 12th anniversary of the 9-11 attacks in New York City. I don’t think we’ll ever forget that day. That day was a landmark day in America – a day where everything changed. It was a day we mark time by, like the day Kennedy was shot, or the day the Challenger shuttle exploded. We changed after those days. We lost some of our innocence.

It is important to remember that just a few people took part in that plan, not an entire religion. We can’t paint everyone with the same brush. This is a country that was founded on religious freedom. The Puritans came here because they wanted to be able to practice religion their way, without persecution. This is part of what makes America amazing. People from all around the world come here to be free.

Yet we stopped being free after that day. We all stopped being able to live freely without the government watching us. We are tracked, photographed, interrogated, and frisked. Our every move, cyber and real, is watched. We can’t get on a plane without being scanned. Our passports and IDs have security features they didn’t have before. Young boys who are any shade of brown are at a risk for murder by cop just for walking down the street.

We are all hyper aware. We are all on our toes. The collective paranoia is a bit much.

Sure, life is a lot safer and saner here than in much of the rest of the world. Bomb blasts aren’t normal. We don’t hear of attacks so often that we are immune to them. They still shock us. Being kidnapped and tortured is still something that doesn’t happen here on a daily basis. We still think we are fairly civilized.

But there is still a lingering fear that we are headed that way.

And while we are fairly enlightened enough to say that not all Muslims are terrorists, we are wary. While we can admit that the Westboro Baptist Church, Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker, and Jimmy Swaggart don’t represent all Christians, at least their actions haven’t killed anybody. There is just bombast, not bombs. Their actions result hard feelings and ugliness – but not death.

I want to trust all Muslims, but I don’t. I want Islam to be a religion of peace, but if you judge a tree by its fruits there’s a poison apple there. Sure, there are many many more Muslims who are peaceful than jihadist, just like there are many more Progressive Christians than Fundamentalist. But I’m wary. I’m afraid. I think deep down many Americans are, but don’t have the words for it. We want to be kind and forgiving and trusting, but we hesitate.

I want everyone to be able to follow Creator in the way that they are called to follow their Creator, no matter whether they use the name Jehovah or Allah or any other name, or none at all. We have the same source. I want everybody who lives in America to feel free to live their lives the way they want to live them – up until it infringes on other people being able to live their lives. If someone doesn’t like Western culture – if they think it is too extravagant, too ostentatious, too carnal – then don’t participate in it. It is totally possible to live here and not do any of those things that define average American culture.

The Amish do it.

Instead of attacking what they don’t like, they live their lives as an example. But just as they don’t want to be forced to live life the standard American way, we don’t want to be forced to live life their way. This works for Amish and Muslims and anybody.

There has to be a middle ground. There has to be trust. There has to be dialogue, not debate. It isn’t either-or. It is yes-and. We can live in peace. We can share.

We can all get along. Teach us by example. Show us peace, by living it.

Prayer for Syria

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It is time for prayer. It is time to shift the consciousness of the American government. We do not need to go to war with Syria.

Protesting the Syrian government’s killing of its citizens by chemical warfare by sending bombs to kill more of its citizens? Wait. That is insane. It is as if we are saying that how they are killing innocent people is wrong – so we want to show them how it is done. What will a military strike achieve? Nothing good. More people will die.

Even if war made sense – which it doesn’t, we can’t afford it.

We are in a deficit. One fourth of American children do not know where their next meal is coming from. Our roads and bridges need repair. Gas prices keep going up. Our elderly need help paying for their homes – if they have them. Homelessness is rampant because of foreclosures and layoffs.

We cannot afford war – either morally, or financially.

Pray for peace. Pray that the American government has a change of heart. There is still time. Wherever you are, whoever you are, please stop for a moment and pray for peace. It is time.

Building bridges rather than bombs.

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I read a headline recently. “What are the West’s military options in Syria?”

Why military? Why not diplomatic? This is in a time where we celebrate the lady who talked down the gunman at the school. No weapons, just words.

Why can’t we be known for our peace rather than our pistols? Why do we have to be the policemen of the world?

I think there are many Americans who are tired of our tax money being spent on the military, and would rather money be spent on education, or food, or infrastructure. I think there are many of us who would rather our money be spent on filling people up with food rather than blowing them up with bombs.

Give peace a chance, indeed. Teach compassion. Teach people how to talk with each other. Teach love. And I don’t mean love under duress. I mean love that comes from a place where people are comfortable being themselves, and comfortable with other people being themselves. There is more to peace than getting everybody to be the same. That isn’t the goal. Peace that way is false.

How about peace that involves everybody being able to say what they feel from a position of safety and trust? They don’t have to agree, just listen, and agree to disagree. There is a lot of maturity in that.

How about peace that means that everybody has their basic needs met first – like food, and water, and housing, and energy, and education?

Peace that comes at the end of a gun isn’t. It creates secrecy, and resentment, and fear. It creates lies.

Peace that comes from books and knowledge is real.

It is time to rethink the way we have always done things, because it hasn’t worked.

World peace at a coffee shop.

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I have started a funny habit. I’ve started asking for world peace. I’ve done this at doctor’s offices, the bank, and restaurants.

When I get asked at the end of the transaction if there is anything else they can do, I ask for world peace. Yes, I get looked at funny. (I’m used to that) But I follow it with the “Ask and ye shall receive” idea. Perhaps that person has the secret for it, and all it required to make it happen was for me to ask.

This seems funny, but it is transformative. It means I have to really connect with the person. We look each other in the eye, and they have to break out of their routine and their script.

There was a great answer at a local vegetarian restaurant. The server said that it was created moment by moment by these interactions, with each person connecting with each other. Exactly.

Gandhi tells us that we must be the change
we want to see in the world.
World peace begins within you.
Think globally, act locally.
It begins with self-love.
Physician, heal thyself.

“Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” JF Kennedy. I propose you change the word “country” to “world”.

What if it is hard to love yourself? Try this – know, deep down, that you are loved by God. Forget what some hateful church tried to teach you when you were a child. Forget the guilt-trip that your parents tried to use on you, where they made God into the bogeyman. God isn’t any of that.

God made you because you are needed and wanted. You are essential. That is why you are here.

If according to the “Rules for being human” other people are merely mirrors of you, and you can only love or hate in another that which you love or hate within yourself, then the first step is to learn to love yourself. You cannot hate others if you truly are at peace within.

You can learn how to get to that place by studying your reaction to other people. Whatever you can’t stand in another person, meditate on. Look for that trait within yourself. Dig deep. Root it out. Find its source.

Don’t turn away – go right into that darkness. It isn’t as scary as it looks. The closer you look, the more you look, the more you will be able to unravel that tight ball of pain and anxiety you are carrying around. Sure it is hard at the beginning. It gets easier. The more you unravel, the more you are at peace.