The holiday led me home to visit the family of origin. My two aging siblings and I found ourselves comparing notes on how we're managing various health issues: back pain, sleep apnea, a recurring tooth abscess resulting in jaw bone erosion, a shoulder with nerve impingement, a hiatal hernia, olfactory hallucinations, and possible motor seizures.
We range in age from 47 to 53. Believe it or not, we come from pretty hardy stock. We all work at least 40 hours a week in jobs that are considered professional. We all have health benefits through our work place. Of the three of us my sister has the most difficult situation. She provides life saving counseling services to families with children in crisis. In return for this she earns $36,000 a year. In January the deductible on her health benefits will rise from $300 to $1,000 putting the oxygen she uses at night for her sleep apnea out of reach after December 31st. She has no dental coverage to help her pay for the periodontal treatment for her abscess, and her income barely keeps up with basic expenses.
Our conversation shifted to health care reform and how hopeless the circus in Washington feels. My mother pointed out that Obama said during the campaign that he was counting on the American people to hold him and the congress accountable. I asked what we an do to make any real difference when elections are bought and sold by corporations?
The next day my sister and I returned to the conversation. I asked her if she would ever go to Washington to march knowing that she is not and never has been the protest type. She said she didn't see how it would make a difference. I couldn't disagree. She admitted she is so discouraged she isn't sure she would even bother to vote in the next elections seeing how little progress we've seen since after supposedly making history last November. I pointed out that low voter turnout always results in big wins for Republicans. She thought for a minute and then surprised me by saying, "if someone organized the bus, I think I would get on it."
Since that conversation, something about my non-joining, non-activist, even apathetic sister saying this has given me new hope. Today, as I read comments on Robert Reich's column "2009: The Year Wall Street Bounced Back and Main Street Got Shafted," I noticed that the "trolls" and devil's advocates seem to have quieted and the comments posted are less cries for help and more sharing of in depth knowledge gained from independent investigation and research. Multiple posts contain calm, reasoned arguments for the necessity of revolution.
When I was first introduced to Marxist ideas about revolution, I was a young adult. That was thirty years ago; then revolution seemed to promise only chaos and needless suffering. I could not have foreseen where I and the world come to. As of now the only source of hope I have found is the willingness of the people of Iran, Huffington Post readers, and my sister to consider revolution a reasonable response to unreasonable oppression.
Frenetic preparations to hit the road for holiday family visits usually makes the passing of the solstice a blur. It has been no different this year, except for the added spiritual darkness felt by so many who are struggling in the financial and political darkness that has befallen our country and the world.
I was glancing through a column posted on Huffington Post by a self-proclaimed conservative blogger and skipped ahead, as I am more and more inclined to do, to look at reader comments, wanting to know what ordinary people like me are thinking.
I came upon this prayer posted by a reader who goes by the moniker freedom4allau.
Divine Universal Creator, Mother / Father God - on the eve of this, the day the masses celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ and some of us celebrate Winter Solstice, a deep abiding prayer / meditation that this country may begin a new path of understanding, enlightenment and healing.
I was moved to post this response:
Thanks to freedom4allau for the universal prayer.
The clash of the titans tone of our conflict is as out of proportion to real life as the mythic battles between the Greek or Roman gods. Our elected officials, like Mickey in the Sorcerer's Apprentice seem powerful and scary when we focus on the over-sized shadow cast by the bright lights we shine on them. They also make quite a mess when let loose with the magic wand of governmental power.
But we need to remember that a larger wisdom will eventually reveal the mouse-sized stature of today's supposed gods and monsters. They too are ordinary humans, with no special insight and only the power granted to them by the people's collective will.
We can not wait for the Sorcerer in the cartoon to come and clean up the mess.
That character represents the spirit of good that lives in all of us. The greater wisdom, knowledge and compassion we see in him is real, but it lies beyond any one person alone. We feel it any time we notice the spiritual sustenance we take from witnessing or performing loving acts of generosity and kindness.
Thanks for the prayer, to remind all of us that we have the choice to put down our swords, to not be tricked into doing battle with one another. We can choose to return again and again to our faith in our potential to find our way through to something better.
I posted the comment below in response to a friend's post on her blog bullseye, baby! about the power of music to reconnect to universal spirit.
So wise, my friend.
At 51 I find the ache you describe has gone and a lovely peace has arrived. I remember sensing this peace in some older (50's) adults I knew and loved when I was a child -- Mrs. Robinson, my next door neighbor, and Mr. Copenhaver, one of my mother's co-workers. I distinctly remember thinking then how I looked forward to arriving at my 50's. I though maybe then I too could live every day "in my skin" with the peace I felt emanating from these two people who understood how to be a friend to an eight year-old, burdened by adult questions and concerns.
I think back now about how Mrs. Robinson was deeply grounded in her love of Christ and her evangelical religious community. I sat in her kitchen on Saturdays and visited with her while she fried up a mountain of chicken for Sunday's church supper. I once walked by the small building on a Sunday and felt the brick walls pulsing with the organ music and the booming voices singing joyful gospel songs. I couldn't make out the words, but I could feel the message.
Each day after school I walked to my mother's office with my younger brother and waited there to walk home with her at the end of her day. I remember Mr. Copenhaver occasionally taking a break from work to stand on his head. My mother explained it was part of his daily meditation practice. Mr. Copenhaver was the only man I knew whose energy never seemed to feel angry or overbearing.
How lucky I feel today that I knew these two people at such a tender and vulnerable time in my life. I think knowing them planted a seed that I believed in enough to spend the next 40 years trying to learn how to nurture.
Even though the ache is gone, I still get lost in the business of everyday life, and music still serves as a lovely gateway into a garden blooming with self- energy- and universe-awareness. Thank you for sharing with such beautiful openness and love, words and reflections that speak to the hearts of so many.
Reader comments under Huffington Post's recent post about the 15 biggest Wall Street payoffs to members of congress are full of the usual vitriol and snark. No doubt the streets of Rome rang similar insults and recriminations in the weeks and months leading up to the end of that civilization. The vomitous mess we're in won't be solved by us shrieking insults at each other. The crisis is real. We are on a socio-economic-industrial runaway train together. The few people with access to the control room of this train are caught up in a video-game like delusion, as if all that really counts is their individual score at the end of the game. Meanwhile we're thundering down the track headed for a crash that really will end life as we know it, and not in the too distant future. It used to seem that nuclear war would end everything. Instead it is this unstoppable global orgy of consumerism, greed, corruption, and passing the buck. This time around the empire itself is too big to fail, and when it falls it will take everything with it. No one with the courage or integrity to confront the lies that hold it all together will be permitted anywhere near the controls to this juggernaut. No matter what party, what station, what anything. There are no working checks or balances or brakes left anywhere on this train. Will we tear at each others' throats over the ignominy of it all? We, neighbors one to another, will have work to do to after the looting and gluttony leave behind ashes and wreckage. We will each fare better, with hope of avoiding another narcissistic mess like that which plagues us now, only if we can commit ourselves to doing the work together.
Burlington resident Guenever Gifford, 37, died in a paragliding accident in California last Sunday, November 1. Like everyone who knew her, I was shocked and saddened to hear it. ...
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Too many good people are gone from our small community in too short a time.
This past Saturday, November 14, 2009 I attended Guen's memorial service. It was the fifth one since the last week of May marking a death in our tiny, local community of someone who dedicated their daily work and life to protecting rights and well being of the most vulnerable among us.
Over 200 people gathered in the sanctuary of the U.U. Society in downtown Burlington to share their memories and grief at the death of Guen Gifford.
Everyone is special. Guen was extra special. She cared about poor people. She was smart and talented and generous. She was especially generous with her heart.
You can listen to one of the cases Guen argued and won before the Vermont Supreme Court during her too short life here. You can learn about the legal advocacy agency where she learned the law here.
I'm sitting in my office with my jacket on to keep off the chill. The old storm windows bang and rattle loose in their frames every now and then. I always feel a little sad this time of year on the gray afternoons, especially when the wind is whining around the corners of the building and I can't help but think of the deep freeze coming so soon.
Today I've just returned from my second memorial service in a week, my third this season. I sat alone in my pew, one of hundreds, saying goodbye to yet another of the good men in this small community I have come to call home. I sat in the back, looking around at the men I didn't know, curious about the ones showing signs of emotion. I saw a few of I did know and couldn't help wondering how much longer they will be here. In the world, that is.
Maybe it's just the gray day. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe I just miss these men who have been my guides, my role models. Men who have given me courage and faith. Men who had the character to remain good to their core in this world that rewards and nurtures men who take the low road. These men were my guideposts. They didn't let themselves or anyone else off the hook. They made us all better people.
Larry was 82. Gary was 57. Glen was 42.
We have to figure out how to carry on without you. As I sit here with an ache in my throat and in my heart, the wind rises up to rattle my windows again as if to say, "Bang--no, it's not easy. Bang--who ever said it was? Rattle, rattle--so what are you going to do?"
Today, I'm going to feel sad. Tomorrow I'll get to work finding the courage in myself that until now I've only known while standing in your shadow.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
I have been trying to get back here for weeks, but rolling waves of shock from daily revelations about unimaginable greed in my immediate and the global world have taken my breath away. I have cried and gnashed my teeth, both literally. I have missed appointments and holed up in my office, hoping the phone wouldn't ring. Each morning I check the news. When Bush was in office I said a silent prayer that we hadn't blown anything up or killed too many more people while I slept. Now I say a silent prayer that maybe Obama will have figured out that Timothy Geithner is fundamentally dishonest and Larry Summers is fundamentally wrong and both have confused what is best for the country with what is best for banks instead of people.
I watched Geithner speak before congress and watched the way he ducks his head and glances sidewise at the people he is addressing, and thought, you don't have to watch "Lie to Me," or be a psychologist (although I am), to get the creepy feeling that this guy is lying. To see what I'm talking about you can watch this interview on CNN, or any other video you can find of Geithner where he is responding to tough questions.
Day after day I read statements by really smart economists, one after the other: Paul Krugman, Nouriel Roubini, and most compelling of all, Joseph Stiglitz. I almost felt reassured listening the sense Stiglitz made during a talk at Columbia University Business School on February 19th. There has been one serious problem that has grown clearer every day since then... No one in control seems to be listening.
I work at a University in a small progressive town in New England. I liked to think I lived in a bit of a bubble. Especially during the past eight years. Tucked away from the kind of unethical, dispassionate arrogance I saw playing out in Washington and all across the country. I liked to think that I could trust in a different kind of leadership in our small, tight nit community. I had become used to leadership that regularly demonstrated real caring for the well being of every member of my community, not just those at the top.
I used to shake my head at the foolishness of people who couldn't see through the sham of the Bush administration. I thought, if they were paying more attention, or if they were more exposed to what he was really like..., but no. Here I am, a smart, well-read person who pays really close attention. People even say I hold leaders to an especially high standard. So it feels important to think hard about how it is that I was fooled about the failed leadership right in front of my own eyes.
Frank Rich wrote in the NY Times yesterday that Americans have a problem with denial that leads us to ignore warning signs about our economy, climate change, the Iraq war, etc., etc. I usually love what Frank Rich says. I have to read it out loud to my partner, "hey listen to what Frank Rich is saying today..." But this time I thought, no he got it wrong. We were just confused because we were systematically lied to. The right wing machine owned enough of the airwaves and print media and bought enough headlines to confuse Americans about almost every issue. They used the principle Stanley Milgram discovered when he did his ground breaking research on obedience to authority back in the 60's at Yale.
Milgram set out to prove that Americans and Germans are fundamentally different and that something like the German holocaust could never happen here. Americans, he surmised, were too independent in their thinking to blindly follow authority. Oops. What he ended up discovering instead, was that Americans were a lot like Germans. If a concerted, supposed authority figure told his subjects to do something, even something they really didn't want to do, even if they thought it was causing pain and possible harm to another person, they would obediently follow the authority figure's directives, despite their own personal distress. Wow. Milgram tried changing lots of things to see what would lead people to say "no" to the man in the white coat. What finally did, was adding a second experimenter who openly disagreed with the first experimenter.
Milgram's experiments tell us not only about obedience, but about leadership and ethics. It's not just me, but the vast majority who start from a place of assuming leaders are trustworthy. It's a working assumption derived of the social contract. Hmmm... s/he is in a leadership position; must be because people thought s/he is somehow worthy of such a position; therefore I should give what s/he says consideration. Too bad this line of reasoning turns out to be as circular as Joseph Heller's "catch 22." I should certainly realize by now that all it takes is for someone to strut about as if they are a leader, and pretty soon they are elevated to some leadership role with a bunch of people following them around as if they know what they're doing.
Okay, I wasn't that bad. I knew the leaders of my organization were way off track about certain things and out of touch about others. I knew that wasn't good. But I thought maybe they knew some things that I don't understand as well, and that overall their leadership would turn out to do more good than harm in the long run. Is this what many Bush supporters thought about the "war on terror," or Iraq?
I keep coming back to something fundamental about the whole idea of what a leader is. How can I know a real leader when I see one? So I'm going to start from a really flawed place: "not like these people who have just messed up so badly." So here's what I think is problematic about what all of us (Americans in general) expect from our leaders. First, I think we need to stop treating our leaders like royalty. The pampering and hauteur we shower on them only serves to attract the most egotistical and insecure people to seek leadership posts. Leaders need to be helped to remember, not made to forget, the circumstances facing the most vulnerable people who are subject to their decisions and choices.
Second, we (this includes me) have to stop looking for leaders who make us feel safe (because they are so sure of themselves, which is a dangerous illusion) and instead seek leaders who help us grow, by challenging themselves and us. I said themselves first intentionally, because we need to respect as leaders only those people who are willing to role up their sleeves and work alongside us, and who are very clear that they too have things to learn, and a need to grow.
Third, we need to get much clearer about what honor is. As Americans, we have a bizarre, distorted sense of honor that leads to great harm when we apply it to leadership. Our sense of honor is something we might have learned from spaghetti westerns or bad WWII movies. Something about not ratting out a peer or sticking together, blah, blah. It's like reading Lord of the Flies and deciding that Piggy was the bad guy and wasn't it a good thing somebody finally dropped that big rock on his head.
What passes for honor in this country is downright terrifying. It leaves us collectively scratching our heads about whether prosecuting leaders who have lied to us and broken the law would do more harm than good to our government. Our upside down sense of honor allows people to look the other way when they see their peers doing the kind of harmful, wrong things that took place at Abu Ghraib. In the video below Philip Zimbardo shows how ordinary people can behave like monsters under the influence of such ethics.
"honor is a thing of the heart and the heart cannot be coerced into a lie."
I think real honor is derived from love. Not romantic, hollywood love, but deep abiding care for one other and an undeniable sense of interconnection. I can only truly honor what I love and I will always treat what I honor with loving care. Genuine honoring is not something that can be scripted or forced. It is spontaneous and most importantly, it is always mutual. It is a mistake to think that pomp and ceremony and falderol, where the many are expected to fawn over one who is elevated, necessarily confers genuine honor. Think of the inauguration this past January 20th and the difference between the people whose presence was obligatory v. the people who attended voluntarily. Too often what we think of as signs of honor are rituals designed to soothe the insecurities and weak egos of people who crave being special. I can't truly honor something or someone who treats me with indifference or disrespect just by participating in a charade and neither can anyone else. Because honor is a thing of the heart and the heart cannot be coerced into a lie.
I know what I honor by listening to what I feel in my heart when I am at peace. I find what I honor in deep understanding and quiet contemplation. Not through fancy rituals where I am forced by barricades, red carpets, and brass bands to accord special dispensation to someone wearing expensive clothes. I can't honor them because I don't love them. I can't love them because I can feel that they have elevated themselves above me and rendered me invisible, dispensable, and unimportant to their continued existence. If I follow them it is only out of fear of some presumably scary, unknown alternative. When I hold onto this basic understanding the rest falls into place. It is simple really, because real honor and love in community are always mutual and reciprocal.
I'm thinking so hard about all of this because I was one of the people who stood by and clucked reassuringly in response to warning signs as the leadership of my university went about amassing a bloated and privileged entourage, dressed up in fancy suits and fed at tables dressed in white linen, crystal and silver. I ignored my personal ethics and bought into the idea that this was necessary to attract larger donations, grants, and more students. I told myself this was nothing like what I was seeing on the national stage.
As the financial crisis hit, I believed that the leaders of my university would do the right thing. I waited for them to demonstrate their care for the institution and the people whose well being they had accepted the charge to protect. And I have been among the many who have been stunned into paralyzed silence by the truth of their craven indifference.
For decades now American society has rewarded and promoted leaders who model narcissism and callousness over those with vision and service. What we must change is our idea of what leadership looks like, not just the people who have risen to the top as a result. We have to turn away from brash, egotistical leaders epitomized by George W. Bush, and respond with distrust to impudent, arrogant leaders like Dick Cheney. We have allowed too many of this kind of leader to fill top positions throughout our society. We can't wait for leaders to whom we should never have given our trust in the first place, to get it, because they have never had that capacity. The remedy to our cancerous condition is to rout out our false leaders by calling their naked strutting what it is and to reward and promote instead leaders who demonstrate humility and dedication to service. The election of President Obama is just the first step in this direction.
I hope Arianna Huffington is right in comparing the present obtuseness to French leaders on the eve of revolution, because I hope Americans are ready to hold ALL of our leaders accountable. The "they" her post refers to definitely don't "get" their own rapacious indifference to the suffering of others. I'm hopeful that another thing they don't get is the awakening of American people to the timeless wisdom contained in the "Emperor's New Clothes." We have been frustratingly slow to grasp what some of Americans saw as dangerous and bad for our country 20 or more years ago. The best thing that could result from the unapologetic, naked strutting of George W. Bush, Dick Cheney and their cronies, would be for the lunacy of rewarding such counterfeit leadership to be forever engraved in our hearts and minds.
Reading this short list of brilliant, young dedicated people helps me maintain my faith in the phoenix-like nature of the human spirit. It also makes it undeniable that with all of the things we (the really really big we) have been doing wrong, we must also be doing something really right that is producing these brilliant, caring, minds and spirits.
Ariana is saying it, but what other big voice out there is mentioning that there has been far too much hand waving about the mess our economy is in. Jay Smooth said it perfectly in this pre-election video:
Scores, hundreds, even thousands of people like Jay Smooth gave their time and creative talent to help the rest of us maintain consciousness in spite of the relentless thrum of mcnews and mcentertainment on our tv sets. Thankfully as a result enough of us got out and voted to defeat the right wing machine that drove our country into the middle of this morass.
The bad news is we're still in the middle of the morass.
UPDATE: Newsweek writer Lisa Miller does a nice job of parsing Warren's invocation that on the surface sounded pat and uninteresting, but as Miller points out contained some interesting and significant choices.
My post from January 16:
The subject of Rick Warren has disappeared from huffpo and other media, but I have continued to struggle with how to feel included in the world wide celebration on January 20th. That is, until today. Obama's talking points about including all points of view (including one that disaffirms my identity) only made me feel more excluded. I couldn't imagine watching the inauguration without feeling kicked in the stomach at the sight of Rick Warren smiling smugly on the platform.
Then something happened in my own life, in my own world. I found myself working to bring together two groups within my organization who have historically felt they are on opposite sides of important issues and the parallel with what Obama says he is trying to do suddenly struck me. After weeks spent reading everything I could find and agonizing over my own bitter disappointment, I could finally see beyond Rick Warren on that podium to the sea of Americans standing patiently shoulder to shoulder in the cold. Because of Rick Warren's presence some of them will be people who would not have otherwise come, who would not otherwise be feeling like Obama is their President and I could finally see that Obama's point might be more than the foolishness of trying to change the unchangeable mind of Rick Warren.
If you're reading this and thinking, 'well, duh!' bear with me for a few more lines. As I thought about the good, decent people I know in my own workplace who I want to bring together, I could finally imagine the millions of Americans who don't yet grasp what it is about Rick Warren and his deeply held and oft-iterated attitudes and beliefs that are so hurtful. I could finally imagine that among them are many who are decidedly less sure and even less adamant in their views on homosexuality. Paradoxically, it was when I stopped imagining what it would take to change one man, Rick Warren, and instead began to imagine what can change the hearts and minds of the millions of people who admire him that my feelings of anger and hopelessness subsided. Imagining ordinary people of faith, with life-sized egos, more permeable than Warren's super-sized one, standing shoulder to shoulder with gay people and their families, I thought about Harvey Milk and I began to feel a glimmer of hope.
The revolution Harvey Milk envisioned 40 years ago is on the march, and it won't wait for TV personalities like Rick Warren to "get it." The revolution is happening as Milk foretold, because of all of us who are able to live out, proud, happy lives, among the rest of the real world, beyond TV. It is when people come to know and manifest their full human dignity that it becomes undeniably apparent to all who witness it.
So my hope for the inauguration has changed 180 degrees. I've gone from not being able to imagine how proud, self-loving LGBTQ people could possibly go and be among the millions, to imagining how perfect and beautiful their presence there will be. Instead of dreading the thought of evangelicals showing up that day I am hoping for it, because I have remembered that it will be by standing together with LGBTQ people and our allies that they might begin to experience us as the happy and whole, loving and beautiful people we are.
I started this blog because the Bush/Cheney years scared me more than I thought anything could. I realized last summer that my life is certainly more than half over. Now when an awareness thunders into my head I have an outlet where I can share it, just like the little girl who blurted out that the Emperor's supposed outfit was actually missing. I choose to write under the name Bronwyn Vermont for a few reasons. First my given name has never sounded like me. A friend gave me the pseudonym "Bronwyn" recently when she interviewed me for a paper and I found that I liked it. I use "Vermont" because it has been my chosen home for almost a quarter century, where my belief in the values of care and community have been nurtured and grown stronger.
