Murder in Paris, rage boils over on the internet. I sit next to a Muslim friend while the vilest invective floats through my phone, rationalizing his death. The perpetuation of this murderous cycle. The cries against Muslims vary only slightly from the cries for the blood of the westerners. Their hearts are the same. Their heartbeats pulse from the same rage.
"Love your enemies as yourself", and many other such words of Jesus, ignored by his followers. Rage so dominant a drive, we lose track of compassion and dignity.
Over the course of the evening, I couldn't stop watching or reading. I ran head long down the most horrible of rabbit-holes. Laden with brutality, with disrespect, frothing with corrosive invective. Chasing down other topics, equally ugly, our inability to dialog with other views. Both sides, neither able to express themselves gracefully, and each descending fast into the realm of personal insult. There were voices of reason, generating hope for me, for humanity.
However, this mad blast of rage gives me deep pause. I will not be part of this brutal back and forth, of name calling. Empty posturing. Pretty much nothing of substance. I think I shall post peace centric messages: Jesus, MLK, Rumi as a response. And work to add thoughtful, graceful dialog to this swamp of outrage.
Driving along in Kirkland , home of the modern yuppie, I’m passed by a new Mercedes. Lovely, silver, shiny, new, bling-bling; a part of me loaded with insecurity twinges while I purr along in my Toyota. Why? How come this is a metric of my self-esteem? Am I being unfair to myself, being upset by this train of thought and it’s influence? Consider, please, how much this viewpoint is drilled into us. Look at how often this imagery gets pushed into our faces, and how long that’s been going on. It shouldn’t surprise me, really, that I sometimes feel this way. Though my conscious values oppose this, the lingering thread of this programming has threads into the depths psyche.
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