Author: Mary

I am a recently retired college professor. Up until June 2012 I taught human behavior and the social environment, social justice and human rights at Monmouth University, in the school of social work. My great joys are reading and telling stories! Reading and thinking about the meaning and implications of what is written. Good literature has the potential of alchemy! of social change toward a world where social and economic justice is respected and where human rights are celebrated.

Experiencing Justice with The Lady and the Tramp

On By MaryIn Awareness, growth into humanity, human rights, social justice, vision and perspectiveLeave a comment

The most basic principle of social work practice is to have a clear goal. After all (maybe before all!) if you don’t know where you are going, how will you know when you get there?!? So, what is justice like? How does it look, feel, smell, sound, taste? What is human dignity like?

Well, on some level we all have a visceral, personal answer to that. Most of us can identify a moment or two in our lives when things just felt right. When all was right with the world, when we did something good for someone else, or maybe when someone did something for us. Now, I’m not talking about winning the lottery grand, but just those moments when things were nice and you found yourself hoping life could go on forever like that. So, go ahead, conjure up one of those moments and bask in it! Recollect how you were feeling, the smells associated with it, the taste it left in your mouth, the sounds around you, the setting and scenery. Bask in all of it for a few moments. Niceness, it is lovely. And that is how I would like everyone to experience fairness and dignity.

And then there is this guy Anthony deMello who offers us this story about a homeless man in London. The man, let’s call him Nigel, has been walking the streets of London all day. He is exhausted, and as night comes on, he finds himself on the bank of the River Thames. It has been a particularly difficult day for Nigel, panhandling has not gone well, he was continually rousted by the constabulary so that he was not even able to secure a bit of bread for himself. He is looking forward to a night’s sleep and a fresh start to the day tomorrow, hoping at least it won’t be raining. Just as he is settling in and about to fall asleep the lights of a car sweep over him, and a chauffeur driven Bentley pulls up near him. A very attractive woman steps out of the car and asks, “Sir, are you intending to spend the night here?” Nigel says, “yes.” And the woman, let’s call her Sofia, replies, “I will not conscience that. You will come with me to my home where you will have a decent meal and spend a comfortable night.” And Sofia insists that Nigel join her in the car, and they ride through London to her mansion. When they arrive at the mansion, Carson ushers them into the mansion. Sofia says, “Carson, please take Nigel to the servants quarters and help him settle in. Be sure that he is treated well and that he has everything he needs to be comfortable this evening.” After a time Sofia goes by to check on Nigel. She sees a bit of light from under his door, and so she knocks on it. Nigel invites her into the room, and Sofia asks, “Is everything alright, Nigel? Did you have a good meal?” Nigel responds, “My lady, I’ve never had a better meal in my life.” “Then are you warm enough?” “Yes, my Lady, the bed is comfortable and warm and lovely.” “Then maybe you need some company to help you to relax and sleep.” And as Nigel moves over just a bit to make some room for Sofia, he falls into the Thames.

Now, when I read DeMello’s version of this story I burst out laughing. I did not see that coming, not at all. But it makes sense. Harboring illusions will not get us justice or respect for dignity. Dreaming may help us to envision a better future, but putting our shoulders to the wheel is what will lay the foundation today for a better tomorrow. So, wake up, drink the coffee, and do some work! We are not required to finish the work, but neither are we free to desist from it!!

And then, because it’s me, I started to think a bit more about the story. And I started to wonder, what if the genders were reversed. What if Nigel were Nancy? What if Sofia were Samuel? How would the fantasy play out? I suppose if it were a gothic romance version Nancy would still be dreaming of her hero Samuel coming to save her. But would even she be dreaming of him crawling into her bed? What if Nancy were a feminist, how would her fantasy play out? If you were homeless, what would make you want to scrunch over in bed? If it were me, I would be dreaming of a warm bed, a decent light, and a good book. But then that’s me.

Ah, and the point of the story was, after all, to wake up, drink the coffee and do the work!

Choices by Nikki Giovanni

On By MaryIn Choices we make, poetryLeave a comment

Nikki Giovanni has been one of my most favoritest poets ever since I discovered books of poetry. When I started to read her poems, I took great heart that a nice Italian girl could write poetry like that. It gave me hope that maybe this Polish girl might could give it a try too. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that that nice Italian girl describes herself as “a Black American, a daughter, a mother, a professor of English.”  Ah well,  so much for my silly assumption based on how a name appears to me. Naming is powerful. Words are powerful. When we learn to use words, we are learning to develop our power, we are building choices for ourselves. So, check it out … Choices by Nikki Giovanni …

 

Choices

if i can’t do
what i want to do
then my job is to not
do what i don’t want
to do

it’s not the same thing
but it’s the best i can
do

if i can’t have
what i want    then
my job is to want
what i’ve got
and be satisfied
that at least there
is something more
to want

since i can’t go
where i need
to go    then i must    go
where the signs point
though always understanding
parallel movement
isn’t lateral

when i can’t express
what i really feel
i practice feeling
what i can express
and none of it is equal
i know
but that’s why mankind
alone among the animals
learns to cry
—Nikki Giovanni

If you like this, check out these links to learn more and read more by Nikki Giovanni http://www.afropoets.net/nikkigiovanni.html
http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Choices-by-Nikki-Giovanni#ixzz2uSROXMDb

We all have to make choices in our lives. For sure not all of the choices are what we might have most wanted. Sometimes we find ourselves between a rock and a hard place. Sometimes we must discern between the lesser of two evils. But, choose we must. Let us always find a way to choose the path with heart. We can always find a way to imbue the path with heart, to love the one you’re with!

Surrounded by water and dying of thirst

On By MaryIn Awareness, Choices we make, growth into humanity, vision and perspective5 Comments

You know the values clarification game where you are asked to imagine yourself on a raft with 6 or 8 other people? Typically the scenario gives you a brief character sketch for each of the other people, and you are then pushed to decide who you would throw out of the raft in order to save the lives of those who remain. The rationale usually involves something like a lack of clean drinking water or a shortage of food, and of course there is no knowing when or if any of you will be rescued. Well, this raft story is not that one.

 In his book ‘Awareness’ Anthony deMello tells the story of a group of people who are marooned on a raft off the coast of Brazil. Here’s my version:

 One sunny afternoon in Brazil Marta, Enrico and a small group of their friends set out for a lovely afternoon on the waters of the Amazon, dallying away the day. Somehow, they lost their paddle and so could no longer control the direction of the raft. The waters of the river carried them out to the ocean, and there they were, trapped and unprepared. What had been a lazy, lovely day now became a life and death situation. They had no food or water with them. The current was carrying them farther and farther out into the ocean. They knew they were immanently going to die if they did not get some help. And in the heat of sun, they were suffering the effects of dehydration. And they were surrounded by water they dare not drink. The one think that they knew for sure was that to drink the salt water of the ocean.  They knew that drinking ocean water would only make them thirstier. They had all grown up hearing about tourists who drank ocean water and came away with headaches, dizziness, nausea, and vomiting. No ocean water was no help for their dehydration, that they knew. Surrounded by water and they were dying of thirst.

 But, here is what they did not know: the rush of Amazon River water that carried them out into the ocean still surrounded them. The Amazon flows out into the ocean with such ferocity, that it carries a stream of fresh water out into the ocean. There are estimates that up to 100 miles from the mouth of the Amazon in the Atlantic Ocean you can dip out some fresh water. But the paddlers knew what they knew and they were not about to take the risk of even tasting the water around them.

 All too often we are like Marta, Enrico and their friends. We know what we know, and we are not about to be disabused of our knowledge by taking the risk of being open to new perspectives or alternative.  Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me! Ah, yes, but we can be brainwashed by the blinders that platitude imposes. 

 All too often our vision, our dreams are limited by the blinders of fear and mistrust.  April fool’s day is approaching. And this year, I propose that we should all take a risk and be fools for love! Let us move out into the world with hearts open to the joy and freedom of love. For one day (then maybe more), let’s take a risk and approach each other with the foolish freedom of heart that young puppies carry when they meet someone new! Imagine the sweetness and joy of a world where love and justice flowed with the power of the Amazon? Where love and justice were carried for miles into the ocean of fear? Let’s all try it for a day and see what happens?

 

Ropa Vieja

On By MaryIn alchemy, Food, love1 Comment

Bread may be the staff of life, but in my family food was surely the stuff of life. When you walked into my parents home, if you were friend or family (in my parents world, there were family, friends and strangers, if they knew you for 10 minutes and liked you, you were immediately friend); so, if you were family or friend you went to the kitchen where the entire contents of the refrigerator appeared on the table. We all sat and ate and talked. But there was no talking before there was eating. No one ever left my parent’s home hungry! So, I fell in love with the story of ropa vieja the second I heard it.

If you know any Spanish at all, you know that ropa vieja means old clothes. So, what does that have to do with food? Just this: old clothes plus love (lots of love) equals food.

In the Canary Islands, Venezuela, Cuba and Mexico the story is told of a man whose family was coming to visit him. He loved his family deeply and wanted to prepare a grand feast to welcome them to his home. But he was a poor man and could not afford to buy food for them. But he deeply wanted to show them his love and to feed them. So, he went to his closet, gathered some of his favorite old clothes (ropa vieja) and imbued those clothes with his love. He then put the clothes in his stew pot and cooked them with the herbs and some vegetables from his garden.  By the time his family arrived, the clothes turned into a wonderful beef stew!

Alchemy at its best — the nurturing transformative power of love.

And today, Ropa Vieja is a well loved family meal in the Canary Islands, Cuba, Venezuela and Mexico. The dish might (or might not) have chickpeas or potatoes; sometimes it is just the shredded meat (beef, chicken and/or pork) in sauce. It is often made with mint, garlic, tomatoes, onions and green peppers. It is often served with beans and rice and sweet plantains. For families today, ropa vieja is much like old clothes: warm, comforting and familiar.

Love, let us bask in it. May it flow through all of our lives in abundance. May it nurture us body and mind, heart and soul, even as it knits us ever more closely in the hearts and arms of family and friends.

Chiyono and the bottomless bucket

On By MaryIn change, compassion, growth into humanity, human rights, vision and perspective4 Comments

 “If you are as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, you still will not escape slander! Get thee to a nunnery, go!” Around 1600, by way of William Shakespeare’s pen, that was Hamlet’s advice to Ophelia. A continent away in Japan, and 300 years earlier in 1290, Chiyono found herself facing similar options. So, Chiyono set off to the nunnery, to the Zen temple in Hiromi where she was accepted to work as a servant.  Chiyono journeyed to the temple (and agreed to work there as a servant if that was the only way in) because she wanted to attain enlightenment (for the new agers or feminists among you, think empowerment).  For years – years and years even – Chiyono worked faithfully, diligently moping and cleaning, chopping wood and carrying water for the nuns at the temple. And through all those years her desire to attain enlightenment never wavered.

Chiyono would listen and watch the nuns from a distance. She emulated their sitting posture and practice each evening when her work was done. Chiyono sat facing the wall in her room, quietly breathing, quietly chanting the words she heard the nuns saying. And, over the days, weeks and years, nothing happened. Persistently Chiyono practiced what she observed, and still nothing happened, she could feel no progress towards enlightenment.  Eventually, Chiyono summoned up her courage asked one of the older nuns, “Sister would you please tell me the principles of your practice? How can I attain enlightenment?”

The elder nun looked at Chiyono and recognized her as the woman who cooked and cleaned, who chopped wood and carried the water. The nun was a woman of wisdom and compassion and so she said to her, “In your search for enlightenment, you must not cease your effort. The Buddha tells us that at the end of all our exploring we will arrive where we started, and shall know the place for the first time (who knew that T.S Elliot was quoting the Buddha!?!). Enlightenment is not words; it is looking deeply into your own heart, into your own mind, and nurturing the compassion for all sentient beings, the compassion that is always already there.  Each of us is complete and perfect just as we are. But each of us is best by desires for what we don’t have, and by fears of loosing what we hold dear. We are deluded into thinking that we can hold off changes that we foresee; but changes will happen, indeed that there will be change is the only constant. Let go of your delusions. That is the way of Zen. Practice this diligently as you walk, as you work, as you move through each day.” (Ah, new agers and feminists among you, think empowerment here too! Each of us is complete and perfect just as we are; each of us is fully powerful and need only learn to exercise and manifest our unique strengths, skills and powers.)

And Chiyono took the elder sisters words to heart and practiced letting go of her attachments even as she moped the floors and cleaned the lavatories, even as she chopped wood and carried water.  She moved through her days with one pointed focus and determination. As she worked and practiced her letting go, she became ever more compassionate in her encounters with the other nuns in the temple. As she moved through the days, where once she might have felt some resentment for the younger nuns who were free to sit in meditation throughout the day, now Chiyono saw her own work as actions of caring in support of the other’s practice.

One evening Chiyono was carrying her bucket to the well to bring back some water to the kitchen. As she carried her bucket, the bottom which was held on by bamboo strips fell out, and the reflection of the moon in the water vanished. In that instant Chiyono touched enlightenment. This is her enlightenment poem

With this and that I tried to keep the bucket together
And then the bottom fell out.
Where water does not collect
The moon does not dwell.

            For all of that I like the story about Chiyono for the first two lines of her enlightenment poem: “With this and that I tried to keep the bucket together, and then the bottom fell out.” For her, when the bottom fell out she saw through to enlightenment. That resonates for me as I think about how hard we all try to keep it together, wrapping our lives with bobby pins and bubble gum to hold the pieces together. And for us too, maybe only when things fall apart will we find our way to living lives that allow respect for all sentient beings (and isn’t that just what lived human rights are about?) to live lives that respect all sentient beings, all of them. (It is the all of them part that seems to particularly trip me up. It is so much easier to be fully respectful of people I like, people who agree with me.)

            So, I find myself wondering –  what will I see, what will you see, when the bottom falls out, and we have enough compassion for ourselves to remember to look through to the other side.

Blaming an Empty Boat

On By MaryIn Choices we make, Cloister of the Sisters of Mary Magdalene, growth into humanity, Koan, laughterLeave a comment

During the rumspringa that marked the transition moment after entering as a postulant and before being accepted as a novice, Sister Bridget was in a rowboat on Round Valley Reservoir.  It was a lovely late spring afternoon. The sky was emerald blue, with a few billowy clouds floating by, just enough to invite a bit of day dreaming to envision the clouds as castles and a dragon drifting above her.  Bridget was lost in her thoughts, contemplating the decisions that were just ahead of her in her progress towards becoming a full member of the cloister. The day was calm, water in the reservoir was crystal clear and smooth as a mirror. Bridget inhaled deeply basking in the peacefulness of the moment, of the day.

But then she looked up, and to her surprise saw another boat on the reservoir heading right toward her. She waved her arms and shouted, “Look out! Hey watch where you are going! Hey, hey, I’m here! Watch out!”  But the people in the other boat just ignored her. Her frustration growing, Bridget tried desperately to paddle out of the way. But the boat just kept coming at her. She kept shouting and paddling, but the boat just kept coming.  The other boat rammed right into her little row boat, and knocked Bridget into the water.

Now Bridget is cold and wet. Her borrowed row boat looked a bit damaged. The peace and serenity of her day is in ruins. As she flails in the water trying to drag herself back into the row boat without capsizing it, she continues to shout at the people in the other boat, “what’s the matter with you! What were you thinking!! Why don’t you watch were you are going?!? I just don’t understand how some people can be so inconsiderate.”

Finally Bridget gets herself back into her row boat, and is able to see that the other boat is empty. The person she has been so incensed with is no one at all.  And Bridget’s anger and frustration instantly turn to concern for the owner of the boat.  With a shift in her thoughts, anger dissolves into concern and compassion and Bridget begins to scan the waters for a body without a boat.  Off a short distance, Bridget sees someone splashing in the water waving an oar.  And she manages to stop the motor on the other boat, tie it to the stern of her row boat and to paddle over to collect the woman who is overboard.  Together they restore the other woman to her boat, and each of them finds her way back to her own maritime meanderings.

And Bridget is left thinking about how easy it was to feel personally affronted and to cast blame, insult and injury on an empty boat. And she found herself wondering how often when she thought she was on terra firma finding fault she was actually a bit loose from her moorings casting blame where there was none to be had.

If we are going to be fair and just, before we shower blame on another, it might indeed be better to first be sure there is someone in the other boat, and even then to walk a mile or so in their shoes.

The Old Wisdom by Jane Goodall

On By MaryIn poetry, vision and perspective4 Comments

It’s been a little while since I shared a poem here. This one from Jane Goodall just seemed right for a cold winter afternoon. But that may be because it IS a cold winter afternoon as I am writing this. I suspect it would be quite wonderful for a soft spring day, a balmy summer day or a brisk autumn day as well. 

And yes, Jane Goodall is known to the world as a primatologist, she is also a poet. Have a read?

THE OLD WISDOM

 By Jane Goodall

In Bill Moyers Journal: The Conversation Continues

When the night wind makes the pine trees creak
And the pale clouds glide across the dark sky,
Go out my child, go out and seek
Your soul: The Eternal I.
 
For all the grasses rustling at your feet
And every flaming star that glitters high
Above you, close up and meet
In you: The Eternal I.
 
Yes, my child, go out into the world; walk slow
And silent, comprehending all, and by and by
Your soul, the Universe, will know
Itself: the Eternal I.

 Thay Nhat Hahn writes about the interdependence of all that is. As I think about interdependence, as I read Goodall’s poem, I can’t help but think that if we all knew and remembered, literally re-memberd that we are all part of the warp and weft of the same fabric, then calls for social justice and for respect of human dignity would be moot. 

maybe the Beatles said it best?  . . .
I am she
as you are she
as you are me
And we are all together . . .
 
and we ARE all together, inextricably interconnected and interdependent. 
 
and justice? well … “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere” Dr. Martin Luther King
 
and “Everyone does better when EVERYONE does better.”  Jim Hightower.
 
we are all together. in you, in me, in us all, the eternal. let us all pledge to work for the well being of all sentient beings, until there is compassion and justice for us all, everyone of us.

A Fable about Salt and Love

On By MaryIn authenticity, Choices we make, growth into humanity, laughter, vision and perspective1 Comment

 

Once upon a time there was a land that was ruled by man who was both king and father. The king had three daughters and loved them each in turn. As he watched them moving through his castle and court yards, the king noticed that while he love each of his daughters, he loved each of his daughters somewhat differently. He began to wonder about this odd quality of love. Being a king as well as a father, the king had also recently begun to wonder about which of his daughters he would entrust with his kingdom. And so one day he summoned the three young women to him, and he asked each of them how they loved him.  

 

 “My dearest king and father,” replied Elizabeth Barrett, the oldest daughter, “I love you to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, I love you more than words can express.”  The king and father was filled with joy and was very pleased when he heard these words from his eldest daughter.

 

Bonny Anne, the middle daughter said, “I love you like the sun that gives us light and warmth and life. I love you more than my heart can hold.”  And now too the king and father was filled with joy and was very pleased when he heard these words from his Bonny Anne.  Then he turned to Salannia, his youngest daughter and asked her to tell him how much she loved him.

 

“Dear father, my king,” she answered, “I love you as much as salt . . .”

 

Before Salannia could continue the king, overcome with disappointment and dismay, interrupted her and shouted, “As salt! You say you love me like salt! The most common and simple spice in my kingdom! If only you might have said saffron, which is rare and precious, or honey, which is sweet, I would have been pleased! But salt! That is the same thing as saying that you do not love me at all!”

 

In his anger the king had Salannia ushered out the door and he banned her from ever appearing before him again. The king then proclaimed Elizabeth Barrett, his eldest daughter, would be heir to the throne.  When Bonny Anne, the middle daughter, learned of this, she was outraged that her father neglected to establish a role of power for her within the kingdom, and she set out to sea and became a pirate queen of the oceans.

 

And Salannia, the youngest daughter, left the kingdom in sadness. She walked for days and days, and eventually she came to another castle where she secured a job in the kitchen.  In a short time Salannia’s skill became known throughout the castle. Her reputation as a chef was recognized by the servants and by the Lord of the castle himself, and soon she became the head chef. 

 

And life went on in the kingdom with each of the daughters taking up her new life responsibilities and becoming ever more sure of herself in the world. After a time the Lord’s of the castle where Salannia was head chef announced that son was to be married. All the Lords and Ladies from the neighboring lands were invited to the feast, and of course Salannia’s father was to be among the guests. Salannia and her staff worked for days to prepare the feast. As they cooked, Salannia saw to it that only she prepared the foods that were to be served to her father – and she ensured that not a touch, not a hint, not one grain of salt came near the food that her father was to eat.

 

Course after course of sumptuous foods were served to the guests. All of the guests praised the excellence of the food, one after another proclaiming that they had never tasted food as delicious as that which they enjoyed that evening. All the guests, that is, except Salannia’s father. He alone could hardly swallow a bite of the food, while the food was beautiful to look at, it was very nearly inedible. When he heard the other guests reveling in the brilliance of the dishes, he could contain himself no longer and demanded to speak to the cook. “What have you done to my food? It looks wonderful, but it has no flavor or taste? I cannot even bear to swallow it.!

 

“My dearest king and father,” Salannia replied, “You exiled me from your home when I told you that I loved you as much as salt. And so today you have no salt in your food. Just as the food at this feast is dull and pointless without salt, so too my life is dull and meaningless without you.”

 

As he heard these words from his daughter, the king relented and repented. He begged his daughter to forgive him, and he welcomed her back home, where he established her as co-queen with his eldest daughter. And together they ruled happily ever after.

 

 

 

And what does all of this have to do with justice? If justice is fairness – and it may well be much more than that, but it is at least that – then fairness and respect require listening carefully to each other. Fairness and respect require hearing the full meaning of what each person means to say, and then pausing long enough to understand the meaning of what each person is saying from within their own context. At least that if we will be worth our own salt, if we mean to be the salt of the earth, otherwise we will just be rubbing salt in each other’s wounds 😉

 

Forest Gump, Saint Peter, Authenticity and Truth

On By MaryIn authenticity, growth into humanity, laughter, truth and truthfulness1 Comment

Life and death are grave matters, but that does not mean that we should necessarily always and everywhere take them or ourselves too serious. And yet, all things quickly pass away, even our most beloved Forest Gump. And so it came to be that gentle Forest Gump, with box of chocolates and small suitcase in hand, following a drifting feather found himself at the Pearly Gates. And there, larger than life was Saint Peter waiting to greet him.

The gates behind Saint Peter were closed, but Peter warmly greeted Forest, “Welcome, Forest! It is good to see you. We’ve heard a lot about you, and have enjoyed following your adventures. But, I need to let you know that there have been some new administrative changes here, and we are now requiring everyone to pass an entrance exam before they can pass through the Pearly Gates. The test is short, but you have to pass it before you can get into heaven.

Forrest smiled offered Saint Peter a chocolate from his box, and said, “Well, Saint Peter, I am indeed happy to be here. I didn’t know nothin’ about an entrance exam. I certainly do hope it is not too hard. Life was kinda hard as it was, a good bit of a test right there is you ask me.”

Saint Peter thoughtfully chose a chocolate, bit into it, savored the flavor, and continued, “Forrest, thank you very much for the chocolate. We don’t get much of that here. It is a most pleasurable treat. And the test is a short one, only three questions. The first question is, what two days of the week begin with the letter T?”

Forrest sad down on his suitcase, thought for a moment, and then responded, “Why sir, I do believe that I know the answer to that one, it is Today and Tomorrow.”

Saint Peter chewed on his lower lip to hold back a smile, thought about it, started to say something, thought for a second more, and then said, “Well, Forest, you are not wrong. So, then you must be right. Good for you. And now the second question, how many seconds are there in a year?”

Forrest was a bit taken aback at this question. He furrowed his brow, sat deep in thought for a bit and then smiled and said, “Ah, Saint Peter, there are twelve seconds, of that I am certain.”

Saint Peter’s eyes fluttered, he involuntarily took half a step back, and asked, “Forest, how in Heaven did you come up with twelve seconds to fill a whole year?”

Forrest said, “Well, when you first asked me the question I was kind of scared by it ‘cause I’m not that good with numbers but then it just sort of came to me, there is January second, February second, March second, April second.”

Saint Peter interrupted Forrest and said, “OK, Forrest, I see where you are going. That is not quite what I had in mind. But your explanation is cogent and coherent, and so I will count that answer as correct also. Now, Forrest the third question is the most difficult, and the most important. So please take your time and think about it carefully before you answer.”

Forrest assured Saint Peter that he would indeed be thoughtful in his response. He suggested that maybe they should both have a chocolate to prepare themselves. Saint Peter gladly agreed, and when they each finished savoring the sweet, Saint Peter asked Forrest, “What is God’s first name?”

Forrest leapt up off his suitcase, set his box of chocolates on top of it, hugged Saint Peter, and said, “Well Saint Peter, that’s the easiest of all your questions! God’s first name is sure enough ‘Andy’ I just know it.”

Saint Peter looked ashen and positively startled, even as a half smile peeked out under his beard. “Forrest, how do you know that God’s first name is Andy?”

Forrest replied, “Well, Saint Peter that just is no secret at all. Every Sunday in Sunday school when I was young and now often enough on a Sunday in church we all sing the song with God’s name:

Andy walks with me,
Andy talks with me,
Andy tells me I’m his own.”

And Saint Peter threw open the Pearly Gates and said, “Run, Forest, run. Welcome home!”

 

A dear friend shared this story with me the other day. Her pastor used it as part of his sermon to highlight the importance and value of being true to ourselves – authenticity. And indeed, if we will build a world where justice prevails and human dignity is respected, then we first need to know and respect ourselves. We need to be comfortable enough with ourselves to simply be ourselves where ever we are, who ever we are with. I do believe that reciprocal warmth, authenticity and genuineness are core elements of respectful relationships.

And, as I thought about the story, I found myself peeling back another layer as well – a truthfulness layer. I found myself thinking about epistemology – how do we know what is true, what is truthful, what is an accurate representation of what we believe to be reality? Clearly Saint Peter knew the answers he was expecting to the three questions he posed. And, yet, he was open to recognizing the veracity of Forrest Gump’s responses within the context that Forrest presented. And for me that is the heart of the story – the delightful caution to take care to wonder at the world through which we wander; to never to too absolutely sure that we know the one and only truth. Let us all wander through this wonderful world with open and generous hearts, minds and hands.

Maya on Bulls Island

On By MaryIn Choices we make, growth into humanity, strong empathy2 Comments

Spring along the Delaware River is always an interesting time. One early spring Maya was out walking near Bulls Island. She had just walked over the bridge and was exploring the island when she heard a rolling thunderous sound coming from the river. As she looked she could see massive ice blocks being pushed along in the now roaring river waters – waters that looked like they were coming right at the little island that she was meandering around.

Maya started for the bridge but something told her to wait. Just as she paused, a tree that was caught up in the river crashed into the island side entrance to the bridge knocking it off its foundation and she watched in collapse into the water. Moments later an old wreck of a car came careening down the river and tore into the bridge on the other side of the island. Maya was marooned.

She walked along the shore of the island cursing her stupidity at letting this happen to her. As she walked the shore on the canal side of the island, she cursed the canal and the river for cutting her off from the safety of the mainland. The shore was close enough to see. She could probably throw a rock across the canal and hit the other shore. . But the banks were steep. The water was rushing too wildly. And the waters had to be frigid from the ice. She was angry and frustrated, plan-less and clueless and worse, no one knew where she was, and her cell phone was in the car. Eventually she found a boulder, crumpled onto it, and wept in frustration.

As she wept, she heard a voice in the wind say, “it is silly to curse and struggle against what isn’t there.”

In her frustration Maya muttered, “What isn’t there?”

“Your enemy is not here. The water is not your enemy. Just as you are a woman becoming the fullness of who you are, the water is merely water, flowing and following its path.”

Maya listened, thought and studied the waters. She walked thoughtfully along the shore of the island observing the waters, watching and waiting, observing and thinking.  As she looked more carefully at the canal side bridge, she noticed that a cable still connected it to the island. She could crawl along the cable to the part of the bridge still above water and make it to the other side. And so she did.

Life is life. Each of us is doing the best that we can with the knowledge, awareness and resources that we have available to us at the moment. Yes, it is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness, but that assumes that you have a candle and match available to you – resources matter. Knowledge and awareness are in our control. Those we can increase.

So when frustrations best you, pause a moment. Take a deep breath (or two or ten). Swear if you have to, if just to get it out of your system. And then look, listen, breath and pay attention to your environment and circumstances, see your world from a different perspective. Who do you think is your enemy at that moment? What might the reality that person be? That empathy thing can go a long way to opening new vistas and alternative.

Oh, and if you are in immediate danger, see to your safety before you shift your awareness!

Discipline, thoughtful meditation, and compassionate action – what a difference they can make!!  If we are going to work effectively for justice and respect for human dignity, it is good to remember ‘no enemy’; human rights are the rights of ALL human beings, of ALL sentient beings, even those who frustrate us.