When I look down, I see such small feet. As I scan up I realize they have connections to my own legs and I am reminded again of the negligible print I am pressing on this expansive world. The bony pes / preformed footprint ratio is shrinking continuously as I learn of the impassioned and active community I am part of in this pursuit of obsolescence management. I follow in honored steps and stand on the shoulders of giants, knowing deeply and deftly that I am but a faint facsimile of a conglomeration of superheroes and heroines in the world of conscience coexistence. I've surfeited in the emblazoned results of other's hard work and can't help but feel both lucky and lazy. Why does such coalescing and cooperative communities find their way into my reality? How did I get so fortunate to be of the elastic nature of such good people? And will I ever be able to even return one one-hundredth of that which has been presented to me? I fear I am a hapless vagabond when it comes to giving to the equivalence, nay beyond the equivalence, of what has been given to me.
Of my recent days, I have been replaying the lessons learned via the subversive, yet purely optimistic, author, John Perkins. You may know him from Confessions of An Economic Hit Man or, more recently, The Secret History of an American Empire. I attribute a substantial proportion of my political antennas to his work, or at least a fine tuning of the skepticism necessary to live conscientiously, consistently and collectively with the unspoken ways of our global polis. He spoke at our local library last week to a crowd so large that would make any fire marshal fidget. Here is where that massive footprint bears its glory! I am sitting shoulder to shoulder with cortical creativity I can only covet. I am communing with spiritual appetites so satiating, regardless of creed or religious allegiance. Words and worries, signs and stories of true regard for the welfare of others and not just others that are us in similar garments but a buoyant bowl of divergent personalities. Perkins exuded contagious optimism, a welcomed surprise to me. He truly believes we are of a generation that is generating real change and commitment to betterment. That we are catapulting into a dynamic course of conscience living where the earth is no longer our waste bucket and our neighbor no longer a means to our own end. People are passionate and persevering beyond the former years.
I can sign this treaty and sing the triumph that this represents. Again, just a lucky player in this act of rethinking life on Earth. But am I just proud that I belong to a collective mentality that cries for the injustice of the rich-poor divide? Am I just comfortable enough in the good works of the people around me to dupe myself in believing my piece is taking care of? When I began to peak behind the scenes of some of my usual store purchases and learned that rain forests were being destroyed, children were enslaved, and life was ruthlessly disrespected all for the sake of profit, I felt evil by proxy. I already felt so insignificant when it came to human rights on massive scales, this just made me indirectly guilty for those horrific affronts against my distantly occupied sisters and brothers. it was easy to change when confronted in that context. But I rarely think to write the companies I proudly protest against to tell them why I am, inciting another voice in the campaign against the damaging norm. Nor do I think to write letters of appreciation or encouragement for those organizations that are doing well for many. By not buying Post cereal without telling the makers of Post, I don't really help necrose the root problem. I just mollify my guilty mind so I feel better about myself.
Which brings up an interesting point. It seems like it is a badge of honor to be outraged about things. If you aren't angry then you are not paying attention...or so it goes. The activist in each one of us seems proud to be concerned about such harrowing things, almost ad nauseum. I realize it is an emaciated line between standing up as the oppressed with the oppressed and defeating the very obvious battles of societies greatest woes and that of just bitching about things because it is the sexy thing to do [depending on which circle of friends you associate with]. I know, in the authentic center of it all, that my motives - for the most part - are the infusion of a higher power and the intentions are clean. Yet I can't but wonder if am I so concerned about the world food shortage (e.g) because I need reasons to make myself feel better when I get into the disparaging habit of comparing myself to another person where I am destined to lose in the face-off. "I may not be as attractive as she is but at least I remember to bring my take-away coffee mug." When are good deeds compensations for lousy self-perceptions? As damaged as that sounds, I know somewhere in that convoluted concept there is a gem of godly truth, perhaps one that represents less attention to self [both positive and negative approaches].
I don't want to hate Wal-Mart. I don't want to write off any good gesture that the company does as another mechanism of greenwashing. I don't want to be mad at my friends if they buy Mitsubishi vehicles. I want real change. I want fair labor, living wages, clean environments, animal diversity, equal rights...a peaceful people with real grace to give and receive. I don't want to be disgusted at myself. I don't want to become the thoughts that overcome my mind. I want to be a receptive vessel that welcomes the clouds and works with them when an imperfect world is the best and all we've got.
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romancing my wallet, as i endeavor to buy nothing new in the year 2008
2 comments:
So true. I am prone to do that sometimes. I get mad at my friends who don't recycle. Or the check-out girl at Target who, after I combined a few of my purchases into one bag (I forgot my canvas, yikes!), just threw away (THREW AWAY) the extra plastic bags I gave back to her. I quietly seethed.
Great reminder. Great writing. You need to write a book... you know, in all your spare time.
Luvs!
Shar,
Thank you (as always) for sharing your insights. I feel privileged to know you, to be in your presence every week or so. You are such a bright light, and I am already lamenting August because I know it will take you away from us.
Here, you have written about something that's become very important to me in the past year or so... that emaciated line... being aware of it, finding it, being careful not to cross it. I think I first became aware of it when I listened deeply to some of the dialogue (preaching included) at Revolution. I began to fear that we were becoming ever more comfortably camped in that unhappy, angry, bitchy place. I have found that place to be dangerously contagious and entirely unproductive in any quest toward the creation of a new reality, or at least a better one.
I think we've perceived that along with the unhappy, angry, bitchiness comes a very scattered approach to change, with little focus or intention. That approach could, to some degree, describe the culture at Revolution up until about a year ago. We began changing the course of our discourse in worship and movement groups about that time... not all at once, but slowly, incrementally, in an attempt to inject more depth into the ways that we think, pray, worship, and act.
To keep from babbling on, I'll just say that a more inward, reflective approach to change has begun to create a deeper and clearer sense of mission and vision in this community. By inward and reflective I don't mean to imply that it's become individualistic; the inward reflection has been quite communal, as well as personal. We're still slowly making changes, but we're already seeing the positive results of this cultural shift. Less bitching, more understanding.
Thank you again for sharing your brilliance, Sharlene!
- eric
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