Tag: freedom

I try to say “Happy Fourth!”

~ Deb ~ 2 Comments 
and it sticks in my throat like a primal 
blockage that wants to give
way but can’t. 

The people of this beautiful land are
loving and generous and kind, for
the most part, but also angry and 
hateful, exclusionary, and possessive 
of the wealth of freedom they think 
they have. 

They came as immigrants, then 
ignored those already
here, like this sentence does. 
They came as immigrants, then
opposed those who would follow,
closing doors once held open for the 
yearning masses.

Not all, of course, and celebrations
demand a focus on the praiseworthy —
the stands taken for democracy, the
opportunities offered to outgrow our
selves, the social safety net we 
knit from strands of compassion and
a deep-seated aversion to sullying 
our beautiful lives with visions of 
poverty. 

She gives with one hand and takes 
away with the other, my motherland.
She preaches a hoarded freedom,
this limited paradise of promise.  
She offers crumbs from the table
as if that should ease our craving.

But I am she.  And you. And you. And
The immigrant. And the Cherokee. And
the Irish seeking relief from impoverished 
hunger. And the African seeking the
freedom stolen from them. 
And the Jew seeking life un-threatened. 
And the Palestinian seeking life un-threatened. 
And the Sudanese seeking
peace. And the Hindu and the 
Muslim and the Chinese and the
Ukrainian and the Serb and the 
Mexican and the fullness of the
human experience on this planet
that is home to us all.  

Mine is the patriotism of humanity, 
fueled by a democratic compassion,
honoring the republic that makes
us one. Let freedom ring.


I Love

~ Deb ~ 2 Comments 
I’m never worried that the
squirrels will eat my
birdseed. 
Maybe it’s squirrel seed. 
Why would I use the gas and 
spend the money to
haul home feed for
one species while wishing to 
shoo away another? 

I love nature, not just birds. 

I’ve never worried that the
ants will find the 
hummingbird cocktail.
It’s sugar — what’s not to love?
Why would I fill the glass bulb and
screw on the base and
hang it upside down for
the bumblebirds and not let
the workers have a donut? 

I love life, not just the pretty kind. 

I’ve never worried that other
people will benefit from the 
rights I fight for. 
We’re all in this time together. 
Why would I carry a sign and
march down the street chanting
words of resistance and equality
and not want every body to
experience justice? 

I love freedom, not just mine.

The Modern Mantra

~ Deb ~ Leave a comment

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

I’ve been hearing this phrase more often lately.  I’m not talking about a literal determination to end one’s life*, but rather a whale-size disillusionment with the world.

When my spouse hears or reads yet another instance of overt and grotesque racism in our society, for instance.  I’ve tried to be understanding of her position, one I will never fully understand, no matter how hard I want to or try, but it still makes me wince to hear it come from her mouth.  

When she first said it a couple years back, I didn’t know what to do with it.  At first, I took it personally.  How could she possibly desire to leave this life, i.e., ME? After I surgically excised my ego’s narcissistic belief that everything in the world was about me, I was a little better at just letting it be, even while still not completely comfortable with the statement.  Sometimes this world is too much.  I understand that. 

Just this past week, though, I heard a friend relaying a conversation he had wherein the other person said, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”  My friend said, “I told her, ‘Honey, none of us want to be here!’” And then he laughed, and the group laughed, and the moment passed, but I sat there trying to take it in. 

What was I to make of this apparent upward trend in general dismay about existence?  

I get it, of course.  We live in times I never thought I’d see.  We seem to be revisiting ideologies and demagoguery so unevolved and outdated that their return is a sad surprise. The marginalized are more marginalized every day.  The vulnerable, more vulnerable. How can happiness, contentment, peace, and self-actualization live in the midst of all the crapitude around us?

We’re tired of the cage of this era and ready for any freedom escaping it might provide.

A 1997 Italian film called Life is Beautiful tells the story of a Jewish man and his son who are imprisoned in a concentration camp during World War II. To protect his son from the horrors of the Nazis, the man pretends it’s all a game. They are simply playing, and there is still reason to laugh. 

The movie is not really about the Holocaust, despite the setting.  It’s about the strength of the human spirit to overcome obstacles to peace.  It’s about salvaging whatever hope and joy can be found in the midst of trauma and war.  It’s about hope, the hope every generation has held, that we have the power to build a better world for our children.

And, historically, we’ve been right to hope.  The moral arc of the universe really does bend toward justice in the long run. Despots often reach their demise in bombed-out bunkers and international tribunals. The goodness of the human heart ultimately does prevail. 

I can almost hear you say . . . “but in the meantime . . .”  I know.  I know. In the meantime, lots of shit goes down. 

The times are tough, and people are suffering.  More may suffer before this season passes. A lot is required of those who choose to stand in solidarity with democracy and hold the high watch for immigrants and women and the LGBTQ community.  It takes equal doses of courage and compassion to do this work. 

But we are up to the challenge. Just as generations before have answered the call, we have what it takes to meet the moment and direct it back toward justice. We have the strength of will and the strength of heart to make our world safe for democracy again.  We have the fortitude and determination to return our society to one that values its diversity and is proud of its inclusion.

And I, for one, want to be around to see that day.   

*(Note: If you need emotional support, call or text the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at 988 or online at 988lifeline.org)  

To Forgive . . .

~ Deb ~ Leave a comment

. . . is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you. Those are the words of the theologian Lewis B. Smedes. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about forgiveness lately and its intimate relationship to spiritual awakening. Whether we are talking about forgiving another person or forgiving ourselves or forgiving our past or forgiving our resistance to forgiving — whichever it may be — what we do not forgive, we have not released.  We’re still attached to it. We delude ourselves into believing that it won’t let us go, but the truth is, we won’t let it go. And our awakening happens when we have completely uncovered our true Divine self.  Trying to step into the pure light of grace while dragging that unforgiven baggage along is like trying to dance in a suit of armor. 

I had some work-related conflict with someone a few years back, and he came to see me just recently.  He had been through some challenging times in the years since I had seen him. He looked different. Softer. Kinder. Humble. He sat in my office and said that he wanted to make amends, that he knew he had been difficult in the past, even brash and unpleasant, and he knew I had been on the receiving end of some of that.  He looked me right in the eye and said, “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry and to ask your forgiveness.” 

I told him he had it.  I told him that I admired his courage and strength in addressing this, and I told him that as far as I was concerned, it was all released and forgotten. 

The truth was, I had released it long ago. He didn’t really need my forgiveness, because I was holding onto nothing that I needed to forgive. The act in which he was engaging was a way of forgiving himself. It was an act of acknowledgement and an act of reconciliation, but at its core, it was the release of something that had clung to him even if it no longer clung to me. And I was happy to be there to participate in his ritual to set himself free. 

That freedom is what every person wants. That freedom is the goal and result of spiritual awakening. When I know who I am and when all those parts of the ego that feel pain and feel betrayal and feel any sense of separation or distrust or fear fall away like tissue paper in the rain, then I am free, and nothing can infringe on that freedom. 

The spiritual journey to awakening is the act of removing layer after layer after layer of ego until nothing is left to cover the Divine Presence that you are. Forgiveness is the removal of a layer. Forgiveness is taking off the suit of armor. Forgiveness is setting a prisoner free.

The more we engage in forgiveness, the freer we are. The more we live in the constant attitude of forgiveness, the more compassionate and loving we are. The more we practice a daily forgiveness of ourselves and our past and the people who are a part of our life, the more we live in spiritual fullness and joy. 

If you want to be fully awake and fully free, forgive everything.