Moving toward the light

It's been a good week 

to be liberal.

ALL people in this country are finally 

free to love whoever they love

and have the same odds 

of being happy or miserable

in the state of marriage

as anyone else -

no matter what state they live in.
~~~~~~~~~~
Millions of people can stop worrying about whether their healthcare
will be terminated or disrupted

as they struggle with chronic illness
or new diagnoses
that demand all of their emotional resources.
~~~~~~~~~~

This guy might actually start to learn
in the only way he apparently can
- his wallet -
that there are consequences to words
and when you call an entire people
thugs, rapists and criminals
some of them may not want to watch your spectacle of
 parading and objectifying
women from around the world.

(Now if only they had arrived at that decision
because the whole concept of pageants
in this day and age is wrong,
that would have been even better!)
~~~~~~~~~~
And this despicable object

may finally be on its way
of being removed and banned from public spaces.

I could never understand how a symbol of
the largest movement of treason against our country
was perpetuated and even glorified
150 years after the fact.

It, along with all Confederate statues and memorials,
belong in a museum -
in the Losers wing.
~~~~~~~~~~
Think what we could do if we truly worked together;

Hope springs eternal.
~~~~~~~~~~
ps. among items still sitting on my Wish List
is the removal
of all appropriation
of Native American imagery
as mascots
or fashion accessories

and
the destruction of Mount Rushmore

(or as people on the reservation refer to them, "The Faces")
with the return of the Black Hills to the Lakota people.

This monument to the Oppressors
is built on land that was considered sacred to Native Americans
and is central to their Creation stories;
 the land was promised to them in perpetuity by the Treaty of 1868
(which was broken less than a decade later when gold was discovered);
and each one of these men had terrible relationships
with the indigenous population
and were responsible for implementing and advancing
a governmental policy of ethnic genocide.

From L to R
in 1779
George Washington instructed Major General John Sullivan
"to lay waste to all Indian settlements, 
that the country may not be merely overrun but destroyed"
and in the inevitable skirmishes that would result from that policy
 "not to listen to any overture of peace before the total ruin of their settlements was effected".

Washington became known as the "Destroyer of Villages"
because of his genocidal extermination practices,
including sanctioning the practice of the troops following battles with the Iroquois
of making a kind of legging or footwear
by skinning the corpses of the fallen foes from the hips down.

While Thomas Jefferson initially supported a policy of assimilation,
it quickly turned to one of annihilation,
aimed primarily at the Cherokees and the Creek.
He said all Natives should be driven beyond the Mississippi or "take up the hatchet 
and never lay it down until they are all exterminated."

Theodore Roosevelt, shortly after being elected governor of New York, announced
"This continent had to be won. 
We need not waste our time
dealing with any sentimentalist who believes that it would have been right 
to leave this continent as a hunting ground for squalid savages, 
It had to be taken by the white race."

He further justified the taking of Native lands,
 expansion into their territories
and the wars of extermination by saying it was "as ultimately beneficial as it was inevitable. 
I don't go so far as to think that the only good Indian is a dead Indian, 
but I believe nine out of ten are 
and I shouldn't like to inquire too closely into the case of the tenth"
and last, but not least,

Abraham Lincoln,
who, while a champion of those held in slavery,
is responsible for ordering
the largest mass hanging in US history -
the Dakota 38;
holy men and leaders of the Plains tribes
who history has held
are largely innocent of the crimes for which they were executed.

Their faces, glorified and maintained as a National Park, is a travesty;
akin to having Hitlers face carved onto Mount Sinai

How well do you think that would go over with the Jewish state?
~~~~~~~~~~
That's the trouble with being a liberal, isn't it?
There's never an end to injustice,
there are always more wrongs to right;
frankly it's exhausting.

I know conservatives probably feel that they got run over by a truck this week
but they have no idea how hard it is to be us
on a continuing basis!

I wrote a sentence down years ago;

with no attribution

or explanation.

"He loves us too much to allow a life without heartache,

the kind that leans hard 

toward forgetting who He is".

I found it yesterday -

and still love the truth of it.

Plunder

I suspect that at any other time, 

I would have walked right past it;

but I'm reading a book 

about spiritual practices 

that heighten mindfulness,

(An Altar in the World: 

A Geography of Faith 

by Barbara Brown Taylor).

so I was 'paying attention' -

even in the parking lot at Target.

It was right next to my car when I parked -

the discarded packaging for a toy -

and immediately the word

 'plunder' 

came to mind.

I imagined some child, 

so intent on finally getting what he thought he desperately wanted 

that he was oblivious to,

and simply didn't care about,

 the destruction he was causing around him.

I wish I could say that with Pope Francis's recent encyclical, 

exhorting us to examine all the ways 

in which we're destroying the planet we all inhabit,

my mind was immediately filled with thoughts and self righteous judgments

of global corporations and self absorbed billionaires,

looting and pillaging the environment,

but that would be a lie.

My mind, and heart, instinctively took a more personal turn.

I was forced to acknowledge 

that I know, firsthand,
about plundering.

~~~~~~~~~~

It's been 30 years;

yet the truth is 

there is rarely a day when he doesn't cross my mind. 

We loved each other - 

and yearned for a different kind of relationship  - 

with a yearning that was both an intoxicating aphrodisiac

and an all consuming addiction
we couldn't  -
wouldn't -
give up.
Because that's how addictions work.

It had all seemed so complicated -

when it actually was the oldest kind of

simple -

he wasn't free to make a commitment 

to me

because he'd already made one 

to someone else.

And, for a long time, 

I didn't care.

I wanted what I wanted 

and would have willingly 

inflicted lasting damage 

to any number of people 

to get what I thought
I desperately wanted.

I have to admit,

this whole situation taught me 

one of the most valuable lessons I've ever learned:

"NO" 

is an answer 

to some prayers.

And thank God for the reality of that.

For some reason,
yesterday,
I needed to be reminded
of the very different trajectory
my life might have taken
had I been the one in control.

Reminders of important life lessons
don't always come in the forms you expect they would.

And they're fleeting ...
you can miss them
if you aren't paying attention.

Happy Mather's Day!

For all those brave single mamas 

doing the work of both parents!

Whether you're parenting singly 

by choice

or by circumstance,

thank you for standing strong 

in the face of societal censure,

 both subtle and overt;

for refusing to accept the perception 

that you and your children are 'less than' other families 

because you don't look like 

a 'typical' American family;

for your humor in the face of obstacles

and for your enduring devotion to your children.

Know you're not alone!

"Why do you go away?

So that you can come back. 

So that you can see the place you came from 

with new eyes and extra colors. 

And the people there see you differently, too. 

Coming back to where you started 

is not the same as never leaving." 

Terry Pratchett

Though sometimes, 

our journeys and those differences are not very clear.

~~~~~~~~~~

I drove over 4,000 miles in one week.

I'm tired.

I came back to a dog who contracted 

hemorrhagic gastroenteritis 

while in the kennel -

and, almost a week later, 

is still vomiting blood 

(and other mucousy fluids you can imagine 

but don't want to see) 

and getting IV fluids.

I'm praying my other dog doesn't get it as well;

it's viral, 

so there's no telling.

I came back to work

where little has changed;

in fact,

there'll be another move next week,

so nothing is settled there either.

Much of the peace and serenity I found on the Plains

seems to have been left there.

This is the part where I confess

I wish I had been left there too.

Speed demon

No, this isn't a post about being pulled over again by police 

for driving too fast;

although I have been because I do.

I'm talking about the time it takes for me 

to see something 

and make a judgment about it.

It's about a heartbeat long;

literally the blink of an eye.

And, from conversations with the other participants on Mission,

I know I'm not alone.

Misery does NOT love company.

I wish the 'mean girl' from junior high,

the one who lives inside of me; 

the one always ready to judge others,

 to make fun of someone else,

yeah,

that girl;

I wish she'd grow up 

and be more like the Christian she likes to believe she is.

I see houses

and make judgments about the people living there;

rating their work ethic,

their sense of personal responsibility,

their education level,

and their 'worthiness' of being helped.

I don't have to have conversations with them;

I don't have to see them as 'real people';

I know 'them'; 

I know 'their kind'.

And, most importantly, 

I know they're not like me.

The only problem is,

then you come on Mission trip

and see a house where a single mom lived;

a house she'd inherited from her grandfather;
the house in which she was raised
when she was taken away from her parents
due to their substance abuse;
the house where she'd planned to raise children
with her husband.

 The house where,
while her children slept,
she dreamed of an easier and better life for them
than the one she'd had.

Until alcohol and drugs changed the man she married;
until he became abusive to her and their children;

until she kicked him out to save them all.

As anyone could have predicted,
he didn't like that.
He came back;
breaking out every window,
dowsing all their possessions in a toxic brew of kerosene and urine
threatening to kill her.
~~~~~~~~~~
He's in jail now.
Their children have been placed in 'the system'
because she couldn't provide a stable home.

She's starting all over.
She's 3 credits shy of graduating from the University.
She has great potential;
she's determined to make it.

She's scared.

And,
even if her story is not MY story;
even if her issues were not my issues,
I remember being a single mom.
I remember starting over.
I remember being scared.
~~~~~~~~~~
The man who brought us to the house today
wasn't asking for donations for her,
although he wouldn't have turned them down.

It's just that he's watched her grow up;
he believes in her
and what she can become.

He brought us there to remind us
that every house we see on the reservation
tells a story;
a story of broken relationships,
of pain
and of hopelessness.

A story of people who are prisoners of circumstance
and so overwhelmed that,
at this point in their lives,
they can't do it without help from others.

It took about the length of a heartbeat for me to realize
that makes them exactly like me.
~~~~~~~~~~

He thanked us 

and reminded us 

that our being here is changing their stories.

Little did he know, 

it's changing ours too.

And, for some of us,

it happened in the blink of an eye.

Don't look for me here ...

I've taken the highway to heaven.

find me this week here

I'm not gonna lie;

it's hard.

Not the "OMG, did I just 'clear' some kid to go home

 and get raped again or killed" hard

that I had in the ER;

just the "banging your head against a brick wall,

loosening a brick or two -

only to find they've reinforced it overnight 

plus added a few more layers"  hard

of dealing with systems 

that actively - and passively - 

resist all change.

The daily grind of having too much to do;

the majority of which is outside 

both my control AND my comfort zone

and is someones else's job to boot.

Not listening daily to multiple stories of sexual abuse

but seeing those same kids, 

removed from their families for their own safety 

but feeling rejected and struggling

 in home after home, 

desperate to belong;

desperate to know someone loves them.

There are all kinds of hard.

There are all kinds of ways of being broken open 

by being witness to children's pain.

I've simply found a new way

and I'm not gonna lie;

it's hard.