I’m still mulling over last week’s post. Endarkment continues as Alchemy.
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The other day, my wife Kristin and I were watching a news program on TV when the following photograph was shown:
I had seen it before, but it gets to me every. single. time. A deeply visceral feeling proving pictures do have power—to say the thousand words no one has the courage to speak aloud.
What the hell are we doing? I mean really…what the fuck?
Look Close
That’s a mother holding her daughter.
Hundreds of millions of human, and even more-than-human, mothers hold their daughters every day on our planet. Those two could be anywhere (Ukraine, Afghanistan, Sudan, Russia, Syria, China, Mexico, Israel, Tibet…here, even here!)—but they live(?) in Gaza City right now. Those two could be members of my family, your family, our family. But, c’mon, we really don’t see them that way, now do we?
And therein lies the root cause of war.
We believe in the illusion and fallacy that we are different. But we are not. We are not different. Believing so makes it way too easy to hate; believing so makes it all too easy to murder; believing so makes it all to easy to vilify, rape, bomb, destroy, eradicate, dehumanize, abuse, and humiliate. Believing we are different makes it too easy to create war, and too easy to feel justified in doing so.
In reality, we aren’t different. We can prove this to ourselves should we only pause from all the noise in order to have a look—a closer look. All it takes for that pause to surface is a bit of honesty (with ourselves), a bit of vulnerability, and the commitment to harbor compassion in our hearts.
DAMMIT! Too much to ask, I know. Right?
Because we know already. And we know well our motivations. After all, were we to let down our illusion of separateness, there would be NO justification for war, no justification for the trillions of world-wide dollars the war industry needs as fuel. And who would want THAT?
A Truism:
“That war happens is evidence of small and petty minds; and evil hearts. There are no victors in war. To commit war is to concede you’ve already lost. Even the victors need funerals.”
So, again, what the hell are we doing?
The language that mother and daughter are speaking to each other, silently caught in that (hopefully to all of us) haunting image, is the language of fear, and futility, and desperation, and victimization. Of innocence…lost. And of love. Love is in that picture too. They are speaking the universal language we’d all be speaking “if but for the grace of god….” Yeah, God. You shouldn’t get me started there. It is the absolute height of irony and idiocy that some, there and elsewhere, are calling this a Holy War in the Holy Land.
I’m wondering how blessed that mom and daughter are feeling right now. We should rightly consider both of them holy, but not those perpetrating the needless violence. And definitely not the violence itself.
“Holy” and “War” are oxymorons—shame should befall anyone who combines the two. But again, I ask too much.
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Sadly, that picture is just one moment, literally one snapshot in a wicked time from which hundreds of thousands of other similar photographs could have been taken. It’s one of the absolute guarantees of war. There are too many others across time and space where that image has been repeated—the vast majority of which known only to the souls who lived them. That picture can be taken, and retaken, hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, yearly—of mothers holding and loving daughters amidst terror. And crying. And more still could be and will be taken in all our futures. War, all to itself, feels like an absolute guarantee. We have nothing that proves otherwise.
A guarantee for what purpose, really? To what ends?
Again, what the FUCK are we doing?
(Pardon my French. No, on second thought…don’t. I intend my French in this context. I’m finding I’m speaking French, lately, a little too often. I won’t apologize.)
💜
Human Family
by Maya Angelou
I note the obvious differences
in the human family.
Some of us are serious,
some thrive on comedy.
Some declare their lives are lived
as true profundity,
and others claim they really live
the real reality.
The variety of our skin tones
can confuse, bemuse, delight,
brown and pink and beige and purple,
tan and blue and white.
I've sailed upon the seven seas
and stopped in every land,
I've seen the wonders of the world
not yet one common man.
I know ten thousand women
called Jane and Mary Jane,
but I've not seen any two
who really were the same.
Mirror twins are different
although their features jibe,
and lovers think quite different thoughts
while lying side by side.
We love and lose in China,
we weep on England's moors,
and laugh and moan in Guinea,
and thrive on Spanish shores.
We seek success in Finland,
are born and die in Maine.
In minor ways we differ,
in major we're the same.
I note the obvious differences
between each sort and type,
but we are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.
We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.
We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.
Our Way Out…
Because it is no secret who starts wars, who has started every single war this world has ever known, and why (to prove who has the biggest penis—metaphorically if not, sometimes, literally), I’ve concluded I, with no uncertainty whatsoever, now know exactly who we need as leaders in our world. Many indigenous peoples had this figured out eons ago—the things we’ve lost but at one point held dear sometimes stagger the mind, nay, stagger the heart!
These “leaders we need” would create a world in which war was eradicated; where conflict was settled peacefully, and likely around a dinner table, potluck style!, with lots of talk of family; where stories of ancestors and photos of progeny would be shown and shared with pride—from all sides. They’d create a world that would end the need for militaries, and arsenals, and weapons, and bombs—and even guns. A world where the money saved from those “man”-made endeavors would be diverted into health care, and medicine, and education, and clean water, and organic food abundance, and solving once and for all the global homelessness epidemic. Where migrants would be welcomed with opened arms and supported to live meaningful lives while at the same time ending the need for immigration to begin with. They’d create a world where peace was the only goal, and anything short of that, they’d consider themselves to be failures. But, because of who they are, they wouldn’t fail—they’d keep at it, until they succeeded. And then they’d keep going, because they know what’s at stake (see again that lead photo).
Do YOU know the leaders we need? I think there have been a few in the highest positions in some countries over the course of recent history—but not here in the “United” States. But I’m talking about these individuals needing to hold the highest position IN EVERY SINGLE COUNTRY OF THE WORLD, simultaneously. THAT’s what would make this ideal work. That’s the only way it could work. But in knowing what’s needed, and its impossibility, I also know this will NEVER come about. It’s just a dream figment of my worn-down and sad imagination after looking at way too many pictures of mothers holding their daughters in the midst of war.
So, wars will continue. As long as there are men in positions of power, wars will remain both “good business” and ways to prove manhood (aka, big penises; or the biggest ICBM warhead, take your pick). Because, as these men say when they start their wars, “Those people, they’re different from us. So why should we care—they started it, we’ll finish it.”
Still, because we are humans who can imagine a better world and a better future, I can still dream and consider just how things would be different if the leaders we had in the world were…
…grandmothers.
Only grandmothers can speak grandma.
There’s a reason why “man’s inhumanity to man,” as a phrase, is a thing. And there’s a reason why “grandmother’s inhumanity to grandmothers” will never be a thing.
… Is Through. Together.
Okay, if this world of my ideal cannot exist (where do ideals exist anyway, but only in imaginations?), where exactly are we then? What are we left to do? How are we left to inhabit this one “pale blue dot” of a planet with our billions of sisters and brothers (and grandmas still), each of whom are individually separate from us, but yet with whom, each, we are no different?
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To get this real for us here in America, since it’s way too easy to distance ourselves, in all ways, from distant wars and both the people directing them, and those being victimized by them (remember they are all different from us anyway), we only need to reluctantly set aside the current wars waging heavily in Gaza and Ukraine and ask how we here in America will choose to live together following this year’s presidential election. Like me, many are worried about what lies in our immediate and long-term futures, no matter which candidate wins. We have cause to worry because of what happened the last time, and because of the America we are co-creating right now (a creation, btw, whose birth date can be pinpointed to a single day in time: Tuesday, November 8, 20161).
How will we choose to live come Wednesday, November 6, 2024–the day after the presidential election? And then each day following?
Are you, by any chance, wondering the same? I trust you are, but…
“Wonder,” in this context, is passive. We can do better. We need to do better.
💜
As another example of synchronicity in my life, the video clip below entered my life yesterday morning in one of my feeds. It’s too good not to share, here now in this blog, and right smack in the middle of the muck of our current political climate. That it comes in the guise of a beer commercial, of all things, does not matter (maybe my Dad would have recognized the irony here, and smiled—he having been a hop farmer his entire life). Look past the brand (btw, I have to say, I am impressed that the sponsor of the spot downplayed, despite the product placements, mention of their name—the brand is the least important thing in the entire commercial. We can’t say THAT very often! Were I a beer drinker, I’d drink only Heineken now!); so yes, look past the brand and just stay focused on the message—it’ll be easy to do so. I will admit, I teared up when I saw this. And when I watched it again, I teared up again. I’ll be replaying this over and over yet-again in my future—we could use all the exemplars of excellence we can get our hands and hearts around to get us through the times that are ahead.
Please watch. PLEASE. It takes only 4 minutes out of your day, but I believe it has the power to ignite change if not simply a different way to envision our shared future. So, please do watch, unless you don’t care to learn a way to get ourselves out of the mess we’re getting ourselves more deeply into with each passing day. You don’t want to hear me use more French now, do you? No one wants that!
This clip by the way, embedded in this article here, was from a non-profit group I follow called “Starts With Us.” This group is a non-political, non-governmental organization of researchers, social scientists, and organizers dedicated to finding ways that lead us toward paths of understanding, peace, and unity—no matter our individual starting points.
You’ll see—cuz you’re gonna click and watch this video now; because I know you trust me.
“We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.”
(Grandmothers notwithstanding.)
Actually, why are we waiting? We should be having conversations like this right now. We should be led to have them, compelled to have them, obligated to have them. We should want to have them. They are grandmother approved.
So, are we? Having these courageous conversations? Am I? Yes? No?
Pretty soon, like, REAL soon, if people choose to no longer engage with one another in the spirit of this message (not that we are now—we’re not!), then it will become crystal clear where the problem lies—if it’s not already. And yet, those among us who get it, and recognize the Truths inherent in those moments, must still persist in this same spirit. There will always be false starts in life, but failure simply cannot be an option; when those happen, we must commit to start again—but better, smarter, with an even more-opened heart. The alternative is too devastating to even entertain.
Despite any “behind the scenes” covert negotiations that are happening around the world, we have few, like, VERY few exemplars of leaders who can do this—who can lead this way. Especially ‘cuz we don’t allow grandmothers in the Oval Office, or the Kremlin, or anywhere near the seats of prime ministries or presidencies or religious thrones around the world.
That Which We Hold In Common…
At our core, we are NOT different. No matter who you are, where you are, the language you speak, the spacesuit you wear (ie color of your skin), the political party you belong to, the team you rooted for in the Super Bowl, the pop music star you listen to the most, and no matter the deeper beliefs we hold, even the religious ones we want to believe are real and that we hold onto so tightly that we’ll even kill because of them, there is something much deeper that binds us all together, that unites us all in a common bond of unity, connection, and identity. “We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.”
It’s hard to explain and articulate, but at a primal level within each of us, I think we all recognize it when we see it—despite the fact that sometimes it’s hard to find. We can certainly feel it though—our hearts, from the moment of our births, after all, are primed for it. I think it’s what our grandmothers taught us, and would have led with, had we the brains (and balls) to hand over the reins of power and allowed them to lead. This unifying bond? This way of being that clearly shows we are more alike than different? I think it goes by one name:
Love.
…Is The Strongest Power There Is
May we yield it.
And may we do so with courage and persistence and without apology.
(French, ironically “the language of love,” is not required.)
~ k
Always and Ubuntu.
🙏🏼
PS: And if we need yet another reminder:
Tuesday, November 8, 2016–the day the antiquated Electoral College “awarded” Donald Trump the presidency despite his losing the popular vote by over 3 million ballots cast—each one, legal. If FDR were alive, I have no doubt he’d dub this “the second day that will live in infamy.”
Wow! One of your BEST ones yet, Kert. The blog and video left me teary-eyed. No need to apologize for your 'French', brother. Because yes! WTF ARE we doing? I forwarded to my sister and son to read/watch. I so look forward to all your blogs, but this one really got me. Love you, brother.
Thank you for your passion, Kert. It's sad how few have the broadness of mind to envision a world where war was seen for the atrocity and the sickness it is. Where Peace Departments existed in every government, and received more funding than war departments, because OF COURSE, duh, war is the LAST thing we ever want to see. It would require a psychological and spiritual revolution, but where do those start? In individual minds. Like yours! Thank you, gentle soul.