Monday, December 31, 2012
193/365 - The last of 2012
I close this year with a grateful heart and new intentions in mind...
"For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning." ~T.S. Eliot
Monday, December 17, 2012
192/365 - Humbled
I am a hypocrite. After writing passionately about the dissension witnessed in light of Friday's shooting, I posted an article on Facebook about gun control. Not long after, a lovely man I know from church posted one about violence not being a gun problem.
You should know that he is one of the gentlest, most compassionate souls I've ever known. There was once a time I likened him to my dad away from home. If I didn't know him better, I might judge him for his politics, and I'm ashamed to admit that. I haven't seen him for a long time, but I know if I ran into him tomorrow, his face would light up with a smile, and he'd give me a big hug. He'd probably say he misses me, that he prays for me, and I would be grateful for his thoughtfulness.
I am so sad and frustrated right now, mostly at myself. I continue to engage in the politics I despise. I post articles and comments on Facebook and write this blog in hopes of communicating how I feel - others do the same - but this is not communication. This is many, many one-sided conversations. It's no wonder I'm disillusioned. I want to talk to people, I want to find ways to get along, to bring more peace into this world. Don't you?
Over Thanksgiving, I had a rather engaging discussion recently with my dad and my cousin, and it was one of the most meaningful and refreshing conversations about politics and religion I've had in a long time. Now, if differences in politics and religion aren't enough to drive a wedge between people, especially family, I don't know what is... It wasn't easy, but it was real, in-person communication. We disagreed on many things, but we voiced our opinions respectfully, we chose our words carefully, checked our tone, witnessed each others' body language, we listened, reflected, conceded, challenged, and in many cases, we still disagreed. And then, when it was time to move on with our day, we smiled and gave each other a hug and said, "I love you." And then we ate some pie.
Facebook doesn't make room for that - except for humble pie - there's plenty of room for that.
You should know that he is one of the gentlest, most compassionate souls I've ever known. There was once a time I likened him to my dad away from home. If I didn't know him better, I might judge him for his politics, and I'm ashamed to admit that. I haven't seen him for a long time, but I know if I ran into him tomorrow, his face would light up with a smile, and he'd give me a big hug. He'd probably say he misses me, that he prays for me, and I would be grateful for his thoughtfulness.
I am so sad and frustrated right now, mostly at myself. I continue to engage in the politics I despise. I post articles and comments on Facebook and write this blog in hopes of communicating how I feel - others do the same - but this is not communication. This is many, many one-sided conversations. It's no wonder I'm disillusioned. I want to talk to people, I want to find ways to get along, to bring more peace into this world. Don't you?
Over Thanksgiving, I had a rather engaging discussion recently with my dad and my cousin, and it was one of the most meaningful and refreshing conversations about politics and religion I've had in a long time. Now, if differences in politics and religion aren't enough to drive a wedge between people, especially family, I don't know what is... It wasn't easy, but it was real, in-person communication. We disagreed on many things, but we voiced our opinions respectfully, we chose our words carefully, checked our tone, witnessed each others' body language, we listened, reflected, conceded, challenged, and in many cases, we still disagreed. And then, when it was time to move on with our day, we smiled and gave each other a hug and said, "I love you." And then we ate some pie.
Facebook doesn't make room for that - except for humble pie - there's plenty of room for that.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
191/365 - Violent Blame
We are divided in our united cry of anguish. How can this violence be stopped? Clearly legislation must be changed. No, it has nothing to do with the 2nd Amendment; it's a mental health issue. How can God let this happen? We're a culture fixated with violent movies and video games. It's a result of divorce and absentee parents. It's bullying in school. It's autism.
It's your fault, not mine.
We can't even honor the fallen without taking a position on what heroism means or defend our duty to vote or uphold the right to bear arms. We argue our righteous positions until, at best, we ultimately agree to disagree. In the end, we merely pretend that contempt is a benevolent response, but nothing is gained, no understanding is reached, no grief is assuaged.
Perhaps contempt is the evil that most needs to be exposed in light of this tragedy. Perhaps the very violence we rebuke is perpetuated by every angry word spoken, every hateful diatribe written, every finger pointed in blame, every self-serving act justified, every injustice upheld, every atrocity unforgiven. My soul mourns for the lives shattered by this tragedy, but my heart breaks even more at the hatred and contempt cultivated in its aftermath.
“The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy, instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it. Through violence you may murder the liar, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth. Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate. In fact, violence merely increases hate. Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” ~Martin Luther King, Jr.
It's your fault, not mine.
We can't even honor the fallen without taking a position on what heroism means or defend our duty to vote or uphold the right to bear arms. We argue our righteous positions until, at best, we ultimately agree to disagree. In the end, we merely pretend that contempt is a benevolent response, but nothing is gained, no understanding is reached, no grief is assuaged.
Perhaps contempt is the evil that most needs to be exposed in light of this tragedy. Perhaps the very violence we rebuke is perpetuated by every angry word spoken, every hateful diatribe written, every finger pointed in blame, every self-serving act justified, every injustice upheld, every atrocity unforgiven. My soul mourns for the lives shattered by this tragedy, but my heart breaks even more at the hatred and contempt cultivated in its aftermath.
“The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy, instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it. Through violence you may murder the liar, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth. Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate. In fact, violence merely increases hate. Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” ~Martin Luther King, Jr.
Friday, December 14, 2012
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