Ah – we’re over it right? I hear the pain, exhaustion, and harried voices of my friends and family. Whether or not it’s an “election year” the truth is we are all constantly putting up with a barrage of politics in our daily lives.
Now I state (on a near constant basis) that I am my daddy’s daughter & as such – every single time I hear one of these stories of political pettiness I want to rope the neck of said politicking person and sit ’em in a corner. And then I want to stare them down for a real long time. Until they start to shake a bit. All that petty, mean, insidious stuff making them feel so very seen. And then my momma’s side takes over. I want to rock them, croon to them, teach them how to soothe that scared, insecure, inadequate part of their soul so that it releases it’s damaging influence in their & others lives. I want to give them some fragile sweet thing that they have to take care of that would become squished if they decided to go back to their competitive & ego driven ways. We could call that fragile sweet thing Soul. And we could learn to give it room to shine without suffocating fear.
I’m typing this not because I am not guilty or because I have overcome all the ego, fear and insecurity, no, I’m typing this because I am learning to walk with myself and my light with a freer stride. With a jubilant heart. I am ok. Some days I am sad. Some days I am lonely. Some days I’m scared. But as I sit in those feelings, As I open up to that pain, To moments of inadequacy, I find I can look into the face of my “competition” and say hi, nice to meet you, tell me your name? What brought you to this path? How can I help you? How can I rejoice with you. That we -in fact, speak the same language, instead of guarding the words I may know that you don’t -yet.
Folks in positions of power inside of schools, inside hospitals, in management, in churches, non-profits, large corporate chains, small struggling businesses, to my comrades in fashion design, to the press at large – I’d like to say – I’m Talking To You. All of you. I’m talking to myself. In this culture we are driving ourselves to sickness. In our bodies, in our minds, in our spirits. I mean it. We are withering when we look at a situation as something to “win at” instead of learn from.
I started off thinking about my momma today but I wound up thinking about every person I know and their struggles with this issue of negative politicking. If there are politics inside of healing, there are politics EVERYWHERE. And there are. My mother tries to circumnavigate them. She steps around. She tries a gentle hand. She tries compassion. And then if none of those things work, she leaves. She goes where she’s called. She looks at the scale, how much time do I spend handling ego over teaching healing? How much? I’ve seen her do this my whole life. My humble, gifted, light-bearing mother. She’s at the top of her game. If we were looking at “winning” she’d be on that pedestal with all the gold medals & they’d be singing her anthem. But that’s the point isn’t it? The work we do with our lives isn’t about “winning”. Sometimes I wonder – sometimes that cowgirl gets aholt of me and I say in my most over-it-cowgirl-voice, “Momma – Tell ’em to go screw themselves because – (and this is the truth folks) There isn’t another one of you on the planet. Do they realize that when they want to learn more, have a recommendation, get to the next level, that door is Through You??!!” I get pissed. I get furious. They’ve forgotten who held their hand through their first steps on their road. They’ve forgotten who believed in them. Who still does. They’ve become – like teenagers, disrespectful and insecure. Why do we trade The Point for Self Importance? And my momma? My momma smiles a sad smile. And she moves on. Each time. With tears. With Prayer, and with Thanksgiving for having been their teacher for a little while. That’s divinity friends. That’s Soul. That’s the top of the staircase before our next journey. And when I watch it, every time, I know she’s earning her right to carry her gifts. She’s achieving her enlightenment. It’s not without pain, disappointment or sadness. She is breaking open. She is returning hands open to her God. And on bent knees I have heard her offer this my whole life, “How may I serve?”
Today. I honor that. Today I feel the mantle of being her daughter & I’ll work towards the legacy of what that really means.
Ah! Such beauty from you, always, dear heart. And that momma of yours: what a delight to spend a weekend with her. I just soaked it all up. You are both (and that Apple, too)light and inspiration and staggering beauty to me. So thankful for sisters on the journey…