Too many things!!! There is a lot to get angry about in the news at the moment. Domestic violence, atrocious treatment of refugees in detention, discrimination of LGBTIQ people in our schools, the #metoo campaign and the list goes on. I try not to read too many of the comments on social media, as this only fuels my despair and rage.
I must say, that it is not only the injustice of these situations that makes my blood boil, but a deeper sense of disturbance. I have read enough and lived enough to know that our natural tendency as humans is to find a tribe, a place to belong. I do feel, however, that there is a rise in dualism and tribalism. There is much uncertainty in our society and what better way to feel safe and secure than find a group we identify with and who will watch our back. When we can identify who the "us" and the "them" are, we know where we fit, we know where we belong.
People who are passionate about a cause will naturally band together to try and make a difference. Be it exposing violence against women, protecting religious freedoms, advocating for LGBTIQ people, enforcing border control, showing compassion for refugees; whenever a "tribe" is formed there is the potential to fall into an "us" and "them" mentality. Groups and movements fighting for a cause, can quickly become an angry mob defending their patch.
Now, don't get me wrong, there is an integral place for coming together to support a cause, for advocacy of the vulnerable in our community and getting angry at the injustice in our world. I do feel, however, that when we take our eyes of that focus, and it becomes more about protecting the group, perhaps we fall into the trap of stroking the communal ego rather than living out our true purpose.
My hope in all of this is that we can find another way; a way that is embedded in love and doesn't react out of our own fears. I don't anticipate it is an easy way. There will always be conflict and differing opinions. I often wonder if it is possible, in our humanity, to find a way that does not divide. But what would it look like to live within the paradox of life, navigating our way through the joy and suffering of differences without resorting to violence and devaluing of the other? Maybe I am just imagining utopian dreams, but I do have a hope that we are better than this.
The closest I have come to even touching this possibility is through living a contemplative life. Through stillness, silence and being present, I find myself in the best possible position to live an authentic life centred on the Ground of our Being. As James Finley said, "I cannot make moments of nondual consciousness happen. I can only assume the inner stance that offers the least resistance to being overtaken by grace."
I have read to beware the angry Gemini. They may go silent, but they are secretly plotting to kill you. Thankfully, for those around me, I try to live a life of non-violence. I can, however, relate to the silence. I would describe it a different way - speechlessness. Over the last few weeks I have found much to be angry about. There are injustices and atrocities happening that I find difficult to comprehend.
I watch some of my friends reacting on social media. Some are able to vent their frustration very eloquently. They find the right words and rally support from others. Others jump into action, joining protests, writing letters and signing petitions. And still others use their wicked sense of humour to deal with what is not funny at all. It takes great effort for me to do any of these things. Anger, for me, brings with it a state of paralysis. Everything seems heavier and more cumbersome.
I recall, as a teenager, struggling with my expression of anger and initiating an 'Angry Book', some sort of journal especially set aside for my times of rage. I found it a few years ago now, had a laugh, and realised there were very few pages used. In the same way, over the last few weeks, I have not been able to find the words to write this blog. Instead of taking me to some outward place of physical or mental release, setting me screaming, kicking or punching, anger sends me inward and into shut down.
Thank goodness we are all different. If everyone reacted like me, nothing would be done in this world. I realise that my speechlessness is not always helpful, but often I come out of my anger with new insights, new confidence or new awareness. I am not going to explain it away by pinning it on the fact that I was born under the Gemini sign (although this may contribute). Having more awareness of my own needs when I get angry has been very valuable. Knowing when to protect myself, when to rest and when to get up and fight has been, and still is, a huge learning curve.
I no longer need to give myself permission to be angry, but I do need to allow myself to express it in ways that are true to who I am.
At the beginning of the year 2000, my husband and I were about to embark on an adventure of living overseas for two years. As part of the whole process, we attended a week of training. The course covered cross cultural considerations, culture shock, communication and other skills we may have needed in living in another country. There is one part of this training that I have been reflecting on again the last week.
I think it was Andrew Dutney who spoke to us about risk and choice. The statement made was the more choice we have in life, the greater the risk. I don't think I fully understood what this meant until we came home from our overseas experience. While living in Tonga, grocery shopping was limited. There was one brand of powdered cordial, with two or three flavours to choose from. At our local shop we could only get unsliced loaves of white bread. There was no wholemeal, multigrain, soy and linseed, toast slice or sandwich slice. The longest section in the aisles was always the tinned corned beef. This had nothing to do with choice, but everything to do with the demand for the product.
We became quite accustomed to shopping with little choice for the two years we lived there. I will always remember our first day back in Australia. We stopped in Sydney for a few days on our way home. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas. The streets were full of shoppers and we decided to join them. I recall feeling completely overwhelmed by the choice on the shelves. Where would we start? How would we choose? It was all too much. If I chose this brand I risked the fact that I should have chosen any of the other ten in the aisle. Shopping was just one area where the link between choice and risk was evident.
Over the last month I have been very aware of other choices I have, particularly the choice of how I engage with justice issues that are very current in our society. I seem to waver with my energy levels. I would never describe myself as an activist. I certainly shy away from taking the lead on issues and would much prefer to turn up to an event that someone else has organised.
Recently, however, I have had a question running through my head, "If not me, then who?" Should I sit around waiting for someone else to come up with a bright idea, or should I get out of my safe little comfort zone and do something? In some ways there has been no choice. I have felt a compulsion, a responsibility to get involved.
So, what on earth does this have to do with choice and risk? Last week I was invited to be part of another event. I was given a choice. The issue does not directly affect me, even though I am very passionate about it. The person asking gave me an out. Just because I had taken a stand before, didn't mean I had to do it again. This struck me. I had a choice whether to get involved or not. I'll be honest, I was feeling tired and drained at the time and really wasn't keen to help organise another event. I could have said no, but all of a sudden I was very aware of the privilege of choice.
I could choose to be involved or not. Unlike my friends who have no choice but to be involved, who are directly affected, I could decide to bow out. From my place of privilege, I have a choice. But with that choice comes a risk. The risk, in this case, is far greater than simply choosing the wrong product in a shopping aisle. The risk is that my privilege will make me complacent. That I will let the passionate fire be extinguished by my longing for comfort and rest. That in my silence I may as well join the injustices.
There has been a lot of talk about privilege recently - who has it and who does not. It is easy for me to sit back and label those who have more than others, but perhaps the greatest changes for good in this world come when we realise our own privilege in life and make choices to stand beside those who have less.
There are so many issues in our society for which people form strong opinions. Whether it be a global issue, such as climate change or asylum seekers, or something more local, such as the clearing of land for housing or an increase in crime. Some people are very vocal about their view writing to newspapers, local politicians and on social media. Others join a public protest with a supportive group. Others remain quiet until their buttons are pushed in a more private discussion.
How we act upon our opinions depends on a number of factors. Personality plays a big part. Some people are more comfortable expressing themselves in public, while others really don't want to draw attention to themselves at all. Some people are born leaders and forge the way, while others are more comfortable being part of a group or institution that provides a network in which to relate. The way we view the world and our place in it also has an influence. Is the purpose of our life here to bring about change and a better way of being for all? Are we simply a moment in time, unable to make any real contribution to the vastness of life? Is this life significant or are we waiting for something more wondrous and perfect after death? Does how I live my life now determine how next life will be? Each of these views brings a different ideology which will determine how we act upon our opinions.
I am part of a church, the Uniting Church in Australia, that is not afraid to voice its opinions and stand up for justice when it feels something is wrong in our society. I am eternally grateful for this Church, as I am a thinker rather than a doer. I will ponder the world around me. I will reflect on the wrongs I see. I will look at all the aspects of a situation and form my own opinions. I will hesitate... and hesitate... and hesitate... The question rings through my head, "What if I'm wrong?"
In the last year or so, I have been trying to get out of my head more and let my heart and gut have a bit more of a say. I have tried to find the courage to voice my opinions on some issues that I am very passionate about. I have received a lot of support, but I have also had some people tell me I am wrong. That's a big deal for me.
So, here is how I am learning to deal with that question that seems to return again and again. If my opinions, and therefore my actions as well, are based on love, compassion, peace and non-violence (all the things that Jesus and many other wise people preach about) I must be heading in the right direction. If the people who tell me I am wrong are acting out of fear, ignorance or their own lack of control I need to be very aware. I am not sure that this is a matter of being right or wrong. To me it is a matter of being a decent, loving human being who longs to be in good relationships.
So, now, if that question pops into my head, "What if I'm wrong?", I listen a little more to my heart and gut. If the way of love and compassion is wrong, I don't want to be right.
