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.
This post gives me pause. Meetings, the infernal overwrought obsession of our lives. It's not just corporate America, but the various groups and org's I've dallied with over the years suffer from meetopia, too. No one I know likes the blasted things, yet I don't know anyone offering up a successful resistance. Related to this, methinks, I have noted that I do a great deal over my workdays (check off a ridiculous number of to-dos) and accomplish little or nothing. The mass of tasks don't roll up to anything. And I've noticed a lingering sense of frustration lately. I spend precious little time reflecting on my goals, and how I can link them to what I do over the course of any given day. I'm so divorced from this, I really wonder what I really want to do, to accomplish any more. Within a recess of my brain comes a niggling thought. Perhaps this passion for meetings offers up a substitute for reflection. Knowing that we must account, personally, face-to-face f
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