Finding Our Own Way
remembering humanity, seeking community who remember human essence = love
Recently, I was chided by a former colleague for believing in astrology—something now employed by an increasing number of psychotherapists (in the tradition of Jung, along with tarot). I used to be a naysayer, too. For decades.
In a text thread with another former journalist colleague, I referenced the effect of the recent lunar eclipse on culture and then noted the aforementioned chide. The second colleague—one whom I have struggled to understand and he likewise me, which created an uncomfortable tension between us for too long—responded with such grace….Grace with which I’ll kick off this week’s post:
"Doesn’t bother me about your astrology or other beliefs…live and let live. We’re all trying to find our way.”
Human first.
Standing in the caress of today’s late afternoon sun I had the loveliest conversation with a neighbor. Because I know where she attends church, I presumed I knew her politics. (Assume nothing, verify everything is the first rule of journalism—and ideally extend to all forms of communication.) Yes, she is anti-abortion and does not support LGBTQ “lifestyle,” as she put it, but she railed against TOMD (The Orange Mad Dog). (That’s my new term of un-endearment, not hers.) She revealed that she’d voted opposite of most of the christians she knew the last three elections and that their vote, (no surprise,) was driven by the abortion issue. She shared that the stringent prejudicial edicts spewing from DC (my wording) were harming her family. I shared the ways they were affecting mine.
Taken during this weekend’s visit with a friend in Seabrook Island, S.C., these footprints belonged to a daring ocean kite sailor we met. Rugged, agile, and unfazed by March windchill and the icy Atlantic, he was in his late 60s or older.
Okay. I confess: I opened the political flood gate when she probed how we were doing. I goaded her. (My bad. I be bad like that too often, but not as frequent as I’ve been in the past.) I told her we were doing fine…just hoping that Grace (my autistic daughter,) would receive her next social security check and her Medicaid services would escape the massacre of Elon’s mad-mad chainsaw. And that’s when she began to talk.
We were able to agree that regardless of if someone—and I did point in the direction of the neighbor whose flat screen flashes Fox on the nights I drive by—believed differently than us—their humanity came first. Regardless of how someone votes, I told her, I want to concentrate on what we have in common. Your my neighbor first. She agreed and said so about LGBTQ individuals and indicated she understood that abortion laws were also killing people who needed intervention in cases of ectopic pregnancies and miscarriages.
When we finally parted ways I wished her well and told her I was glad to know she believed the things she shared about our presidential administration’s harm. I wish I’d told her, I appreciate, too, how she lives out her faith. Truly, I do. Maybe next time we meet and venture into the gutter of politics, I’ll share my appreciation.
Everyone is going through something.
In the last few weeks, I’ve visited or spoken on the phone with so many friends who’ve broken down into tears or were wringing their hands in fits of anxiety. Only the most stalwart of my meditator-friends aren’t anxious on some level for how the entire world is imploding. I’m not alone in believing that the pandemic was a precursor to this now moment in time. During the pandemic, as in this now, unresolved issues of any kind—familial, relational, health, home…the list goes on—were/are exacerbated. It feels difficult upon difficult if not tragic upon tragic.
Conversations.
Sacred ones are being had. I am ravenous for spiritual community right now. For light seekers who wish to connect in person, in group formation to share what we are learning, how we are evolving, where do we go from here? With people who know who they are and whom we all are in our essence and wish to transcend the labeling and hate mongering.
Several times a week, I slide into DM’s, texts, or emails sharing with friends nuggets of inspiration (or dark humor) I find in the ethers or via old fashion printed paper. I often send special selections with an older friend I’ll call, “Anna.” She texts or emails back pearls. every. time.
From this morning’s meditative reading of The Daily Stoic, 366 Meditations on Wisdom, Perseverance, and the Art of Living by Ryan Holiday —
“[…] Moral Purpose in the world [is] nothing but our dim perception, ever growing through spiritual friction, that we are all bound more and more toward the understanding of ourselves and each other, and all that this carries with it.” —John Galsworthy
Image from my weekend visit with a dear friend in Seabrook Island, SC.
Anna’s reply: “Thank you, dear Leisa; that fits right into a receptor in my brain/heart designed for it—fits a belief, understanding I’ve held for several decades.…that we’re all here to learn everything, grow thoroughly kind, become the fully developed wisdom of the pure energy of love—and need to give each other plenty of grace and help and companionship on our journeys.”
Yes.
………………
PS: If this resonates, speak my love language, would you? That’d be hearts, shares, restacks, comments, subscriptions—free or paid at a range you choose. Thank you kindly. —xxL