Category: Essays

But, Then Again . . .

~ Deb ~ 4 Comments

(A sister post to my most recent.)

I’ll be honest, sometimes I wonder if I’m part of the problem.  (Side note – if you want to test your own level of self-assuredness, type that sentence sometime and see how it feels.)  If there is a devil on my shoulder, then I blame him (of course it would be a “him”) for my eagerness to leap into the verbal fray.

But there is an angel on my shoulder too.  A Jekyll to my Hyde.  A Cher to my Sonny.  And every now and then she gets my attention.  And, of course, it would be a “she.”

I’m in a constant hop-scotch between the two.  On the one hand, hey, knowledge is power.  Study, analyze, research.  Pack the brain until it feels mighty damn important.  Be an informed voter.  Read the paper.  Read the encyclopedia.  Read Trivial Pursuit cards. . . for fun.

On the other hand, sometimes I wonder if I really need to know any of that crap.  Perhaps I should trade in a few cable news anchors for 13 indigenous grandmothers.   Information overload eventually and inevitably sends me running to the woods to commune with the oaks and listen to the scuffle of squirrels in the leaves and the caw of the raven.  For a few days I avoid the Comcast home page headlines and start my day with sacred moon incense.  I pause to acknowledge the wisdom of the west, the north, the east, the south and shake the flame to embers with a silent appeal for the health of our planet.

It’s an age-old war that is not at all unique to me, I know: that war of wills between the aggressive mind and the passive heart, the assertive brain and the silent soul.  My mind uses fear.  It tells me I’ll fall behind, that something really important will happen, that I must stay informed with the world’s comings and goings.  It tells me that if I’m not careful, I’ll become like my sister, Donna (“We have a black President??”).

My spirit uses . . . well, nothing.  It just sits patiently and accepts me home every time I return.

My brain is like an academic playground.  Politics are the video game I’m addicted to.  And when I get really still and centered, I realize just how insignificant it all is.  There really are more important forces at work in the universe.

I don’t want to be part of the problem.  I want to be part of the solution.  And I have a feeling the solution will come from the heart.

Guess I’ll have to think about that for awhile.

Why I Can’t Say “No”

~ Deb ~ 3 Comments

Well, I did it again.  Embroiled myself in yet another tete-a-tete with a rabid dog from the other side of the political fence.  It was online, so there was no blood.

My Sisyphean struggle to convince just one conservative that a) President Obama is not a socialist, b) socialism really isn’t a bad idea if you really like things like police departments and public schools, or c) that President Obama is actually the goddamn president of the fucking United States seems as fruitless as Tantalus.   And yet I’m drawn to it in a strangely obsessive way.

First, I admittedly enjoy these embroilments.  Why know shit if you never get to masterfully weave it, seemingly extemporaneously, into a conversation?  I went to school to learn how to do this, for Gaia’s sake.  I not only am capable of presenting a solid argument, I have a license to do so.

Second, I feel an almost spiritual calling to bring just one penitent soul to the progressive altar.   Just one confession that healthcare for every American really would be kinda’ nice.  Just a few Hail Marys offered up with an admission of capitalist guilt.  I don’t need a full conversion.  If I could even just get my brother-in-law to crack a smile at a Sarah Palin joke, I’d put up a Mission Accomplished banner on the deck of the nearest aircraft carrier and call it good.

Mostly, though, I really believe what I say, which, of course, means I’ll only ever be a political observer and not an actual politician.  The birds in the Gulf covered in oil?  My eyes well up in tears for them.  The Afghan children caught in the crossfire?  My heart just downright breaks for them.  Hearing a “friend” explain the reasons why he believes gay marriage should not be legal?  I want to place my family – my partner, our kids, our grandkids – right in front of him.  Mine, and the millions of families the world over continuing to live in the legally nonexistent primary social structure they’ve managed to artfully craft out of their own experience and ability.

So, although I really should resist the temptation to engage, sometimes I just can’t.  Sometimes lives depend on it.  So I march on.  I respond to that online thread that I know will get sticky.  I live with the residue of it on my person for the next day or two.  I take my stand.

It’s just my way.

How to Get What You Want

~ Deb ~ 1 Comment

About six months ago, I had the conscious thought that I wanted my life to be more focused on teaching and writing.  Just a couple of days ago, I received confirmation that I would indeed have a full-time teaching position this fall at my dear old alma mater, Tennessee State University.  If you knew how unlikely that result seemed six months ago, you would think I must be a freaking wizard.  (I am, but that’s beside the point.)

So, how did being lost in working-for-a-living evolve so quickly into immersed-in-a-passion?  Read closely, and I’ll tell you the secret.

(Sidebar — Speaking of The Secret, the book/movie/”phenomenon” that you are either well aware of or haven’t heard of due to the thickness of that rock you’ve been living under, my experience has some similarities, yet I retain the insistence that mine is also unique.  I essentially agree with the core message of The Secret, but feel that it is A) too often focused on material gain – the yang to the yin of living spiritually, and B) too closely resembling one-size-fits-all in regards to tapping into unseen energy.  But, this really isn’t about THAT secret; let’s get back to mine.)

STEP 1:  Figure out what you want.  (Warning: This step may take years, or even lifetimes.)

STEP 2:  Think about what you want.  Spend time focusing on it.  Read books about it.  Immerse yourself in it.  Speak about it to the full moon.  Google it, for god’s sake.  In essence, put the energy of that thing you want all around you.  (Warning:  This step may take months or even years but should move along a little bit faster than Step 1.)

STEP 3:  Tell somebody what you want.  (Warning:  Step cautiously here.  This can’t be just anybody.  Avoid naysayers, dream-killers, unwanted-advice-givers, analysis-queens, and your mother.  I told Susie, who only ever says, “If that’s what you want, I’ll hold that vision with you.”)

STEP 4:  Watch for it to happen.  (Warning:  Don’t forget to celebrate the small steps that are propelling you to your desires and which are sometimes easy to overlook.)

DISCLAIMER 1:  This does not always work.  Sometimes what we want isn’t right for us.  Sometimes we only think we know what we want.  Sometimes we want something because we think it’s what we should want.  Sometimes we don’t get what we want because instead we get something better (see: serendipity).  This is why Step 1 can take years or lifetimes.  Socrates said, “Know thyself,” and great thinkers have been harping on this same theme for the 2,300 years since.  It is impossible to know what you want until you know you.   So get really, REALLY comfortable with Step 1; you just might be there awhile.

DISCLAIMER 2:  All of the above falls into the this-is-what-worked-for-Deb category in your brain.  You should now focus on the this-is-what-works-for-me category.  Perhaps you will find that discovering/thinking about/speaking/manifesting what you want involves incense or candles or a favorite pair of old shoes or dancing around an oak tree under a new moon or burnt offerings or nature walks or driving in the left lane.  Any, all, or none of these are perfectly acceptable.  This-is-what-works-for-me is completely dependent upon the information in Disclaimer 1 regarding self-knowledge.

DISCLAIMER 3:  I have discovered that “wanting” a new BMW, a very large house, enough money to impress friends with my largesse, or world-wide fame are not only not really what I want (the big “I”, the capital “I”, the “I” that really knows “I”); they are also crass and miniscule, the subatomic particles in the great banquet of universal goodness.

So, best of luck on your journey.  I have realized that my mission on this planet in this lifetime is to teach and write, and knowing that made doors start flying open.  I can’t wait to hear what yours is.

First Amendment Follies

~ Deb ~ Leave a comment

I’m a big fan of the First Amendment.  You know the one — freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom to assemble, freedom to petition the government.   The Founders were admittedly fairly intelligent gentleman, but putting all of these together . . . were they short of paper?  Guns get an amendment all their own, but the right to dance naked under a full moon in homage to the god of grapevines doesn’t seem all that closely connected to writing a letter to your senator.   (Or does it . .  . ?)

Free speech, in all of its assemblying, praying, and petitioning forms, was a stroke of genius on the part of Jefferson, Franklin, Adams, et.al.  And putting it FIRST . . . pure brilliance.

But, our freedom of speech has its limits.  We know you can’t scream “FIRE” in a crowded movie theater.  Making reference to the bomb in your shoe at Laguardia would probably not be advised either.  And for goodness’ sake, don’t threaten the life of the President unless you want Secret Service agents camping on your lawn.

Generally speaking, however, we can say whatever it is we want.  We can claim the sky is orange.  We can start a website which offers ample scientific “proof” that the world is flat.  We can advertise that we make you a bejillionaire from the comfort of your own home (for just three monthly payments of $49.99).

The problem really isn’t in what we say; the problem is that a certain number of people will actually believe us.

This is the first law of politics.  The economy needs a boost and you want to loosen the regulatory grip on the military-industrial complex?  No problem.  Just claim that an arch-enemy has weapons of mass destruction and worry about evidence later.

Always hang the (insert one: economy, war, tax burden, environment, etc.) on whoever is in office regardless of any facts which may point to someone else bearing some of the responsibility.  (Second law of politics — You must build a strong immunity to facts.)

Need a scapegoat to divert attention away from doing what you know no one will like?  Piece of cake.  Just grossly exaggerate the impact of (insert one: immigrants, gays, Muslims non-Christians, the other political party’s platform, etc.) on the Amurican way of life.

Don’t concern yourself with accuracy.  A considerable percentage of the population will believe the sky is orange if you just tell them with a smile and the Capitol steps as your backdrop.

This is the way of American politics, and I accept it as such.  It’s part of what makes the whole thing so damn interesting.  In fact, I probably wouldn’t pay attention at all if Sarah Palin was required to speak only the truth.

But, now perhaps we see the reason for jamming all those things into the First Amendment.   What is said and what is believed have such an inextricable relationship.   The preacher must have the congregants.  The politician must have the constituents.

Those constituents just need to remember the petitioning part of the Amendment.  We don’t have to believe what you say.  We can question and snarl and even mock.   We can walk away from your political altar unrepentant.

Most importantly, we can see for ourselves.  The sky is blue.