–teaching the skill of love with radical acceptance–
Sticks and stones, like words, can hurt. Unlike sticks and stones, words can also heal: they have power. They possess this power because even without utterance words live; they breathe. But should you speak them, putting them into the air, the atmosphere, you will find that they change, changing you in the process. Let’s inhale a few…
There was a popular saying back in the early ’70s taken from a poem written by a Jewish psychotherapist, Frederick E. Perl:
I do my thing, and you do your thing. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you, and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, it’s beautiful.
I like his words because I’m a child of the sixties and teen of the seventies and want to be left-the-hell along, and because it speaks of the kind of freedom of expression that so many of us desire. I want to live in a world with people who understand that what I think or believe (at the end of the day) is my opinion. And that I can hold my opinion and practice my beliefs in a way that does not prevent you from doing the same. I want to live in a world of thinking, civil people who understand that my wearing a boy cut works for me. If you don’t like my haircut, just don’t cut yours in this fashion. You may hold your opinion about it, but essentially, it won’t change mine about it—and that should be okay; it’s my thing, not yours. The problem is that many people think my right to have my opinion is somehow going to change their otherwise, sane world; that my simply being different is going to ruin everything for them. Well, welcome to the real world, Boo, everything changes. It’s a fact of life; things that don’t change, somehow end up dead. The problem, in my opinion, is that these people want the world to change according to their dictates, not some other person’s. Well, welcome again, there are a lot of Others here and more are coming to the Land of Free, the Home of the Brave. So get ready Americans: What it means to be American is getting more and more unusual. God Bless America.
What would you say if I told you that everyone in America is a racist? What would you say if I told you that anyone who comes to America and stay for at least a month joins the crowd of racists? And, would you stop reading my post and start to cuss me out if I told you that all of my accusations are not only true but normal for us? We’ve created a national culture that disenfranchises and marginalizes Americans of color. Unfortunately, Americans of color in efforts to identify with the White and privileged, hate themselves and those who look like them. This is normal behavior as well.
Not sure how you’re taking this. But if you are an honest, open-minded person then you are neither mad or offended. Instead you are delighted that you can freely be who you are, racism and all. Okay, there is a catch. The catch is that you are free to think what you want about others, but not so free to mistreat anyone. The other catch is that if you want to live in a country where you can be free to be yourself, you’ve got to be willing to allow others the same freedom.
Now, allowing others to be free means accepting them, honoring their practices, learning about them and, maybe, finding value in the differences. Our country can only be called the land of the free, if everyone is free; or, can only be ONE nation if everyone may share in those privileges. America is a beautiful idea. Those who initiated this ideal may not have seen the America that we have come to be. Perhaps they couldn’t see this far into the future. But, alas, here we are a country full of all kinds of people. People who are by birth or citizenship Americans. Since we’re here, let’s give the ideal a shot. Let’s treat the constitution like it was written for everyone who has become a part of this republic. Let’s imagine together and practice in cooperation what it means to be “one nation under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for ALL.” What a beautiful thought/idea.
Something terrible happened. You goofed; made a mistake; said an awful, unforgivable thing; did something stupid—but now it’s time to get on with your life. Sounds simple, but if you are guilty of any of the above actions, you can’t. Someone in your head is telling you to hold on to it, to punish yourself a bit longer. So you do. You play it over and over in your mind; go to sleep thinking about it, wake up with it on your mind. You may try to erase it, but it looms even bigger. “How could I; Why did I?” you ask yourself over and over. Who is the person in your head who has decided that you deserve this torment? The voice that reminds you how inadequate a human you are incessantly rehearses your stupidity or ineptness—“That was so boneheaded of you.” Okay, you get the picture.
Where, then, is the voice that reminds you how beautiful you are, how precious and sweet you are? I know, I long to hear her voice, too. Is she sleeping or does she care about how much you’re losing, I wonder. I need so very badly to hear her say it’s okay; “I still love you.” Can you trust that she still loves you in spite of yourself? You wonder if she really loves you at all, especially when you seldom get an encouraging word from her. When you do well, you never get a pat on the back or a high five. All you get is criticized and chastised when I screw up. I know a way to end her fear that you’ll never be what she wants you to be. When she spouts accusations of fear, shame, or blame just tell her you love her and you forgive here. Maybe, then she’ll get preoccupied with these ideas. Maybe at your next infraction, she’ll tell you how much she love you, because she really does. You just haven’t taught her how to love you without the fear attached.
Lying is so easy. It is easy to spit a lie to protect your image. It is simple to say: “I was late because I had an emergency” or “traffic was backed up.” Very common lies we use because we are afraid that if we tell the truth–we just plain forgot–we won’t be forgiven. “We won’t be calling him for anything; he is not a good manager of time.” You can’t risk that so you lie. Ironically, no one believes you when you tell these lies, because everyone tells them to play the game, yet is a respected way to cover up common mistakes. I guess in our culture being considered “professional” preclude our being considered honest or human, even. So the lies continue. Or, could you simply say, “I messed up,” and deal with the consequences. Part of the payoff for your honesty is that your integrity consoles you when you lose credibility, although your accusers are liars. Man, it’s crazy. Remember integrity? I believe it’s more than being honest. It is how you behave when no one is around; it’s telling the truth without having a witness to testify—swear—on your behalf. It’s picking up a piece of paper without an audience, or turning in a valuable you found when no one is there as pressure to do so. You are your only witness or audience. And your integrity is your only pressure. But if you lied to protect yourself, I’d certainly understand.
I decided, yet again, that I am not going to let other people’s shhstuff become mine. The other day, I was in a great place: I was cleaning up my email, checking things off my to-do list, feeling great. Then someone (who shall always remain nameless–more on that later) just lied–through their teeth–as we use to say in my hood. As I sat there trying to stay in my good mood, I struggled with being in my good place and just going off on this person. Man, I was torn. Something in me was loving my place, the peace of it; and something in me just needed to rant about this blatant lack of integrity! People! I said to myself.
But as, I sat there trying very hard to stay happy, I decided to re-recommit to not letting other peoples’ crap bring me out of my self-imposed happiness–it is a choice you know. Right then I decided to be happy, so I let it go. Now for the “nameless” comment I made earlier.
I am not the one to gossip–just never got into it. I guess it never became a part of my culture–personal habits. But, as I struggled to rant about this person’s behavior, I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to just vent my frustration about the experience, which I did but without naming who. That’s when it hit me: “What will talking about this person really change about what they did or who they are? I wondered, “Will my telling someone else about this stop him/her from doing this to someone else?” That was the right question to ask myself. And when I realized the answer was “no,” so I decided not to tell anyone, else (even without naming). What I decided was to tell others of my re-re-commitment. Now, that’s something I can control–what I do. Breathing now and back in my good space, good mood, and checking things off my list–this post included.
“It’s just right to do right,” says my mother. My dad often quotes his mother as saying “Do right and right will follow you.” “What kind of circular, redundancy is that?” is what I use to think. Now, of course, I know that when I do the right thing, I never have to apologize, rethink, take back, or fix anything. I just thoughtlessly go through life as if all is right with the world. And that’s because it is. What freedom! Okay, what if I don’t do the right thing? Well, I did a foolish thing. But if forgive myself and give myself permission to make a mistake (okay many mistakes), I can still thoughtlessly go through the world as if all if right. And that’s because it is. What freedom!
I once read a t-shirt that said something to this effect: “It is not the difficulties of life that scare me; but that period at the end.” Death is one of the few things that we know is sure. Yet it is not something we anticipate with excitement. Yes, many have reported having wonderful experiences of seeing bright lights and not wanting to return to the “reality” we know. But, I believe I speak for many of us when I say, “Heaven can wait.” Then there are some others who might say that they are putting off “Hell” for as long as they can. For some others, still, death is simply another waking state, and life is “but a dream.” So there are many “truths” about what it means to transition from this reality to another. Not to be overly euphemistic, but suppose death is not the dreaded monster we have created it to be but a gateway to the most peaceful existence imaginable. Or, what if we could create our own “reality in death?” We could then suspend our fear of dying and embrace, even welcome, and anticipate it. Ponder that. And if we can imagine death signifying peace then would it still be the worst thing that could happen to a person. On the contrary, some of the most horrific things that happen to us actually happen in the reality we call life. So, my final question is, “How can we create a life of peace so that we won’t have to die to get it?” May you live in peace.
Redemption is an ongoing process. Each day we can exchange something that we don’t want for something that we do want and need. But to make the switch, we need to be willing to offer up useless or worn-out behaviors for ones more beneficial, ones that offer us more options in our lives, our relationships. What makes the redemptive process even more compelling is that once set in motion, it’s contagious—you’re always doing it. And once you decide that you want something better than what you have, you will challenge yourself to do something to get it; that something can be as small as a getting a fit body or a partner that’s a better fit. Or it could be a decision to relinquish your need for acceptance and go against some long-standing societal tradition. Whatever it is, you need to do. You can do it by simply giving up something worthless in exchange for something worthwhile, something that makes you whole. Now that’s a redemptive act.
A psychologist back in the 70’s did some experiments with dogs to test their responses to shock and confinement. Seligman was is name–look it up. This idea is important to me because lately we’ve been hearing a lot about “those freeloading people,” who don’t want to work but want law-abiding-tax-paying-hardworking-citizen to take care of them. Every time I hear one of these “true Americans” make this kind of statement, I wonder if those deemed as taking advantage of the system are truly lazy, good-for-nothing-freeloaders. Of course, at the end of my wondering, I know my answer and it is “no they are not.” Well, guys, at the beginning of my wondering I know that the answer is “no.” But being the open thinker that I am, I had to ask the question.
Then I begin to wonder about the CONTEXT that surrounds welfare recipients. By the way the majority of those on welfare are not Black or Brown–look that one up too. But, when I consider the context of the lives of the Black ones, we should be asking the question, how they are doing as well as they are doing. A lesser people would be dead. A people with little inner-strength or intestinal fortitude would not STILL BE HERE.