What the Hell do we do Now?
It is true that I am idealistic. I am committed to the rigorous pursuit of truth, and, in that pursuit, the virtues of attention. I believe in the purity of intention, the necessity for courage, and the dream of valorous engagement. That used to be enough for any idealist in a world that honored such things. But now…now I know that idealism is no match for entrenched injustice. Every day these days, our sensibilities are shocked. Such shock is now the truth, and is now an experience that “seems” genuine. Perhaps we should be glad that we are still shocked, rather than numb and like many others, mistaking shock for awe. People are forgetting what truth and freedom and liberty and justice and real love for one’s neighbor-as-one’s self actually mean, and how we all used to be of one mind about these things. The struggle of human beings against power that rails outside of one’s soul is the struggle of memory against forgetting.
What the Hell can we do? What can we do to stay human at the very least? We can remember, that’s what.It’s so hard to care about those who make choices that endanger all that we care for in this world, who gleefully undo all the ties that bind, all the protection for the innocent ones. Life is short and precious. It’s only by agreement that we all decide to stop at the red light, to wait our turn, and go on the green. These days, by direction of the Big Thief who lives in the People’s House, there are those who decide to lay on the horn, and speed with reckless abandon through the red light, forcing the rest of us to screech to a halt, apply the brakes, gasp for breath, and shake our fists at the receding tail lights of the Breaker. I try to be patient when someone honks at me these days. We don’t honk here in Seattle…or, at least, we never used to. It was the unwritten law. Now, the light changes, and if you don’t jump on it, the person behind you honks at you to get a move on. It’s all I can do to not jump out and go back there and confront the other driver. I dream of it! Dreaming like that drives out the beautiful dreams and leaves me feeling infected, and anxious to recreate a safe environment in the house of language. To whom do we now belong and how the hell do we find our way back home?
I do believe in echolocation…the sending out of signals, and when the signal bounces off of something and then returns to the sender, the speaker knows her value, the singer knows her Song of the Soul. And so, I write, and so I make songs, and so I sing, and so there comes back a response that pretty much says: You are here! And when you receive the song and send back your appreciation, or send it on to another in need, we are of One Mind, we are Home. Music is a true reflection of who we are, what we believe, and what Home looks and sounds like. Music is truly powerful.
What the Hell can we do? We can go to hear live music for one thing…go out and about and support the sounds of our lives, and the musicians who make those sounds and send them out so faithfully whether anyone hears them or not. Imagine the power when someone is actually there and receives the signals and transmission is made! It will help us to stay Present, to keep believing in the goodness at the Heart of all the World. Remember: it only takes one drop of poison to corrupt the whole waterhole.Mostly, these days, we work ferociously hard to filter the poison. But it comes so fast, and there’s so much of it! It taxes all that keeps us in balance, and we feel threatened and truly overwhelmed. People are scared, and it’s been done to them intentionally. That’s just how bullies work. Some people are drawn to bullies by the very nature of the raw power they wield. Easier, I suppose, to just join up rather than wait for the blow to fall. We look at Nazi Germany and wonder for all we’re worth just how in the hell people could join up with such hideousness, such blatant wielding of power by the weak and crazy man. Yet, here we are again. The jackboots are on the stairs. The books are on fire. Sanity is imprisoned. Dark skin dooms you to death.
My open-hearted ways are in danger, as are yours. We cannot sit on the Fence and wait for a better time. It’s Satan’s Fence, to be sure. That Evil will surely come back for you and push you into a place you don’t want to go. So, let’s get off the Fence and go now into places of real Power.Let us take back our Power we’ve so surrendered. Choose a kind and human candidate to vote for and go out and help others to the polls for God’s sake. Everything is at stake here; don’t fool yourself that someone will come and save you. We have to save ourselves…and that’s honestly always been true, I reckon. No babysitters to come watch us and put us safely to bed. Trouble sleeping? I think that’s because we’re supposed to Wake Up! The only choice we have is Now.
On my walk today, I passed up the usual garbage…then, stopped, went back, and picked it up along with subsequent throw-aways, and put it in the appropriate receptacle in front of the store. It’s not my garbage, but then, again, if I noticed it, it IS mine to deal with, isn’t it? If you see it, do it, as Mama used to say. Clean up where you are. And for Heaven’s Sake, be kind. It may be the very least we can do. There is still time. There is still Magic and it is afoot. There is still Beauty in the remaining Wild places and Beauty in the Tame. No matter what people think, we are all in the same boat. Even the powerful, the rich, the poor and the innocent will live and burn brightly for a time, then pass beyond our comprehension. But while we all live, there are consequences to everything. Robert Lewis Stevenson said: “Eventually, we all sit down to a banquet of consequences.” Imagine the consequences of love and kindness. Then, let us act upon that impulse. That’s the banquet for me!