"I am you, and you are me, and we are we together..."
At least this is how I recall these lyrics that I attribute to the Beetles. I know that they had lyrics something like these, but my reflection is based on the lyrics I remember regardless of how cloudy that memory might be.
The words came to me this morning while having breakfast. They seemed to me to capture the sense about what marriage means for me. I realized that the singularity of this was only the pebble in the pond, and that the inclusive ripples emanating out were profound: we are ALL we together.
That seems to me to be the truth about who as human beings, as social beings, as the sacred beings we really are. The illusions are the rifts that we allow to separate and divide us. Labels and categories that allow us to conceive of "other," of the "austlander," of "not of the people"--not like us in other words: thoughts expressed in derisive words that dehumanize and give permission for cruel, inhuman actions. We have seen these words and symbols smeared on walls like broken eggs, proclaiming hate and degrading to acts like lynchings, beatings, torture, and war.
Over the ages we have been profoundly successful at killing anyone who dares to proclaim the truth that we are all one: interconnected, interdependent beings whose future is intricately and indivisibly tied together.
The challenge is steep. To ferret out the hate that can creep into my heart when fear opens the door is a never ending process. While I can articulate this intellectually it is still hard for me to truly, consistently, and fearlessly love my fellows.
At least I am better able to laugh at myself when I deride the driver who cuts me off in traffic, or the customer who takes 20 items to the "10 items or less" check out counter. Now to work on disallowing the derision before it begins, or at least to laugh at myself sooner and show these thoughts that diminish who I am out the door...
The challenge also requires taking a stand--bearing witness to truth and justice. The measure of my courage is the context and conviction of my stand. It may well be that the call for courage is thrust upon me in a split second as in when the lion charges in Ernest Hemingway's "The Short, Happy Life of Francis Macomber." Or maybe it's a more deliberate act like Rosa Parks preparing herself intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually to hold high ground for all of us in the front of the bus. However it comes, I believe that it will come to each of us. My hope is to be able to maintain proud eye contact with the guy in the mirror when it comes to me.
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Good Morning, I feel a special honor to be part of your morning musings. I think of you and Sherry often and reflect on the many meanings of present. This holiday season and those yet to come will always remind me that things are lovely but being present to experience what others give through their spirit and generosity are really all that is needed. Peace to both of you. Jill
ReplyDeleteHello Doug and Sherry, Here is a quote that Margie has up on the corkboard in our office. I read it more in the spirit of an aspiration than a reality. It is titled: "Yes".
ReplyDeleteThe pain of endings, real, anticipated, swamps the living that is possible before the end. The joy and grief are all about a single thing: what matters most.
If I deny them,either one, I am denying life.
And so to both of them, the joy and grief, I say a silent "Yes."
Love, Steve
The above poem that Steve shared is by Judy Brown and was shared with me at a Parker Palmer Courage to Teach retreat.
ReplyDeleteLove to you all at this difficult and tender time.
Margie