Notes to my self...
As my aged dog and I were standing in the yard in the middle of last night -- she, like all of us older females, up from bed to pee; me, to take her and gazing at the bright constellations -- I saw two shooting stars.
I went back to bed singing the Gloria in my head for the rest of the night.
My heart aches for a generosity of spirit amongst us.
For us, in every community, in every meeting, in every election, in every shared decision, to drop our self-righteousness.
To stop judging each other.
Those of us who consider ourselves "inclusive progressives" have too often played into the opposition's hands -- for, like any opposition, to divide and conquer is to win -- exacerbating this nation's class divides.
Sometimes inclusion comes at the cost of exclusion: putting others outside the special circle.
My brother is missing his two front teeth, lives in a trailer, and is a Trump supporter.
Do you judge him?
Sadly, we still live in a culture in which acts of hatred violate others every day.
Immigrants. Women. All people of color. Children.
It doesn't make the world better for us to condemn those who commit these acts.
Better to condemn the action than to condemn the human.
As Greg Boyle, who for 40 years has led the most successful gang rehabilitation program in the world, says: we are all irredeemably good.
We really are. Including those who use their privilege and power to benefit themselves over others. Including those who resent those with more privileges than themselves.
Including those who are angry for what they lack.
We have a lot of illness in our cultures. Acts of hate and violence are signs of illness -- no healthy human treats others this way. Christians used to call this sin -- the places where we remain flawed, where we are not yet god, not the perfection of love.
Not the constellations, not the shooting star.
For one thing, we are afraid of "flaming out" in death and darkness.
This fear alone causes so many hateful actions and speech.
There is a lot of anger and resentment out there. Rather than dismissing it, what do we learn from it?
Humility. Gratitude. Acceptance.
The world and its creatures are not ours to judge.
How do we each hold ourselves accountable? How do we hold each other in community, in spite of our hateful actions?
The beautiful floating milkweed at this time of year reminds me of my mother in her raspberry patch.
She was not a leader, not an actor in society.
She feared but did not judge.
Casting seeds of kindness.
