November 2006
Another November, another election. As always, the general
mood depends on where you live. In Portland, Oregon, for instance, where I live,
the mood is rather buoyant with the mid-term elections returning control of
Congress to the Democrats. Two years ago it was very much the opposite: the
disappointment with George W. Bush’s re-election—along with anger, outrage, and
the whole gamut of other emotions—hung over the city like a dark cloud. I
imagine that something similar is now happening in the Republican regions of
our country.
People find all sorts of outlets for their frustrations.
Back in 2004, a staunchly liberal acquaintance of mine expressed her feelings
through defiant poetry. “Do not marry yourself to this,” she wrote. “Do not
marry yourself to…”—she offered a list: the slaughter of Iraqi civilians, voter
disenfranchisement, environmental destruction, injustices to children, political
corruption, popular opinion, media manipulation, and the results of the
election.
“This is a time,” she continued, “for distance,” “for the
spirit of independence to rise up”—but definitely not, she emphasized,
a time for union. “We are a divided nation,” concluded the piece, “Concede
nothing. Let freedom, justice, liberty, and life stand alone.”
Yes, a powerful statement of defiance if there ever was one,
aptly reflecting the feelings shared by many in this city and elsewhere in the
country.
With these mid-term elections, I imagine that similar
sentiments are now ringing across other parts of the nation. Do not marry
yourself, they are probably saying, to the slaughter of unborn children, the
reign of suicidal terrorists, the destruction of values and property rights,
disenfranchisement of taxpayers, political corruption, popular opinion, media
manipulations, and, of course, the results of the election.
What I find most striking about these sentiments (along with
the usual radio talk-show verbiage), is the sheer degree of negation they
contain. Our political diet, if you will, is generally an endless buffet of do-not’s,
will-not’s, don’t want’s, and so forth. Yet it shouldn’t be so surprising: it’s
far easier to react against something that you oppose than to embrace something
you love. Reactive opposition also awakens very strong emotions, and such
excitation seems to give one power, often expressed through anger, outrage, and
violence.
Yet as powerful as all this negating might appear, it
provides no answers. Defiant statements like those in my acquaintance’s poem
only offer plenty of things not to do, lots of things not to agree
with, and plenty of things not to accept…leaving us with nothing, really.
For the best you can ever achieve by negating negatives is a big ZERO.
This seeming powerful negating is neither constructive nor
empowering. In fact, the poem struck me as a clear example of how we allow the
outcome of elections—and, more generally, the decisions of others—to
disempower us. What is accomplished by simply saying “NO” to everything? The
only thing you can create this way is a vacuum.
To be empowered means to say “YES.” It means knowing what
you want, rather than just what you don’t. It means knowing what to
positively embrace, not just what to reject.
This is an approach that is absolutely essential to living
with any meaning or consequence. Without the clarity of knowing what you’re
trying to accomplish, achievement is merely accidental. With clarity and focus,
you direct your energies to a real goal instead of scattering them ineffectively
to the wind.
Going back to the poem, I see only two possible exceptions
to its general negativity: the line about “the spirit of independence” and the
phrase about “freedom, justice, liberty, and life.” These are, of course,
offered as potential solutions or antidotes to the stated problems—just as
they’ve been offered by those on the other side of the aisle for their issues.
(When in doubt, throw in a few constitutional buzzwords!)
Yet what do these words really mean? What is this
independence, freedom, and justice we claim to cherish? What is the life and
liberty that we are so intent on defending? What do these things look
like?
Liberty and freedom mean much more than the ability to defy:
they guarantee that each one of us has the opportunity to pursue our most
important priorities, whatever they may be and whether or not they agree with
others’ priorities. We have the freedom to choose how we invest our energies; we
have the freedom to choose what the Life we seek to protect means for us,
personally.
For myself, I’d certainly like a life that’s full of
positives, not simply devoid of negatives. True peace, for example, is much more
than the mere absence of conflict; true joy is much more than the mere absence
of pain.
What, then, I ask, should the world look like? As
much as I get the poem’s message of what not to marry myself to and what
not to accept, what, then, should I marry? What, exactly, should I
accept? Where, precisely, should I invest my energies?
In asking these questions I saw that within each statement
of negation lies a seed of positive vision. That vision only needs to be brought
out by rewriting the poem in positive terms, dropping the “do not’s” and
inverting the details:
Marry yourself to the power you
have
to make the world a better place.
Marry yourself to empowering
others
to make a difference also,
if even only in their own lives.
Marry yourself to unbending
honesty and integrity
in every thought and every action.
Marry yourself to peace and
kindness
that you never allow any difficulties
to grow into open conflict.
Marry yourself to sharing peace
with others,
that there will be ever-growing communities
where anger, violence, and conflict are
never again invoked as a solution.
Marry yourself to ever-greater
simplicity,
claiming fewer and fewer resources for yourself.
Marry yourself to sharing
even those resources with others.
Marry yourself to cleanliness,
to beauty,
to harmony—
first in yourself, your relationships,
your immediate environment,
then let that harmony extend itself
in ever-widening circles.
Marry yourself to seeing the best
in everyone, regardless of their attitudes and actions.
Marry yourself to seeing the
wonderful potential
of every man, woman, and child
to live in love, joy, and harmony,
a inherent worth that needs no measure.
Marry yourself to creating the
conditions
in which that potential can be realized by all.
Marry yourself to Truth despite
both popular
and personal opinion alike,
ever willing to sacrifice
even your own first principles
when a deeper understanding is revealed.
Marry yourself to the humble
realization
that you are but part of a greater reality.
Marry yourself to the joy of being
a humble channel for that greater reality
to manifest itself in the world.
This is a time for
distance, yes,
not from each other,
not from those with whom we disagree,
but from the complexities of confusion
and from the bottomless pit of negativity.
And yes, this is a time for the
spirit
of independence to rise up!
Be independent of opinion,
be independent of pride,
be independent of despair,
be independent of sloth,
be independent of selfishness,
be independent of anger,
be independent of hatred,
be independent of fear.
If there is a nation divided,
it is that nation that exists within each one of us.
Marry yourself first to inner
unity;
let that unity radiate from your heart.
Rededicate yourself to Truth, to
openness;
Rededicate yourself to faith, to positive action,
to self-offering and selfless service;
Rededicate yourself to the power
of compassion and understanding.
Marry yourself to
the real power of love,
to the capacity for healing,
to the capacity of forgiveness,
to the capacity to pray even for your enemies
and especially for yourself.
Concede not this love,
concede your bitterness.
Concede not your power,
concede your resentment.
Concede not your freedom,
concede your hesitation to use it.
Claim your power
to focus your energies,
to focus your resources,
on manifesting the best you can imagine
for our world.
Be the justice.
Be the freedom.
Be the liberty.
Be the love.
Are these not virtues upon all might actually agree?
