Tomorrow, at long last, we are heading for the Desert Regional Hospital in Palm Springs, early, for my wife to have a hysterectomy. This has been an obvious need for several months, even strongly recommended by a gynecologist in the first week of August. Now after weeks of arranging and re-arranging plans through her HMO and affiliated resources, the surgery is finally set for tomorrow morning.
Perhaps - just perhaps - some great years of better health and a new lease-on-life will be experienced by this lovely lady in her early sixties who has not known good health since her mid-teens. That's when the migraine headaches began, which have increased in number and severity over the years. Because her mother who suffered similarly, was freed from migraines upon menopause, the hope was always there that at least relief was on the way. But through many years of a debilitating menopausal marathon, my wife not only did not lose the headaches, but has found them ever more difficult and life-altering in recent years. Today, it's a rare morning when she awakes and can fully open her eyes to the light. There is that slight but overwhelming hope in my own mind that tomorrow's necessary procedure may also finally bring the relief her mother's experience promised.
But this writing began this morning because of something the surgery has unleashed: a mega prayer fest.
Amazing to me how many people, both close associates and mere acquaintances, have vowed to pray for her. Not amazing they think that much of her, because she is a wonderful person, but amazing that this concept of saying words or forcing thoughts of some reverential type toward the open sky is offered in an effort to be of some kind of help to my wife.
Okay, before you simply stop reading, at least try to find a way to stay with it for a while. I'm not trying to change anyone's thinking here, I'm simply revealing my own. You might consider these words of mine as perhaps a bit of fluff meant to entertain, maybe similar to little grist-for-the-mill thoughts offered by the likes of the retiring Andy Rooney, or light-hearted humorous jabs more in the vein of a Garrison Keillor. Any way you want to read this to make it palatable is fine; at least I hope you'll try. And keep in mind all along that I very much appreciate the thoughtfulness and concern these folks are revealing by offers to pray. I thank them sincerely each time. They need not know I am thanking them for the humanity they are expressing, not for the praying. It is thoughtful and considerate of them to pray.
But why, first of all, would so many thoughtful people suddenly want to pray for this lady who has been worthy of everyone's compassion for half a century of poor health? Is it that surgery is a big scary unknown so it's obviously time to get serious about calling out to a higher power? To be fair though, maybe some of them have been doing this over the last many months as they have seen her in pain while her organs rebelled inside her, preventing her beloved outings on the golf course, making even walking a terribly difficult activity. She has been so excited to finally get to this stage of hopeful relief from pain, yet now is the time others choose to soften the voice and with ostensibly deep feeling, offer to pray for her.
Possibly there is a carry-over here from the Dark Ages, a time when the practice of medicine was also a practice in the Black Arts. This was very much a part of the ethos in my former religious milieu. Doctors were suspect in most every way, and certainly not to be trusted in life-or-death circumstances. It was apparently feared that any trust placed in the medical profession was a displacement of trust that should have been rightfully held in reverence to a supreme being. It was feared that this misguided trust would show disrespect for said supreme being and probably bring wrath down upon the head of such a reprobate believer.
When I suffered an attack of acute appendicitis in my early twenties, it was put to me by ministers that if I felt that going to a surgeon was more to be desired than staying in my bed and trusting in God through prayer to heal me, then I should go to the medicine men because I had already allowed my faith to slip. Obviously, in the eyes of those nearest and (in a few cases) dearest to me at the time, I could not allow myself to show a lack of faith. I stayed in bed and waited out the storm of fear amid physical pain, and the poisons within my system were eventually overcome by a strong constitution. This was trumpeted as a score for the faith camp, and the fact I am still alive is, naturally, a constant proof to many folks of the power of prayer. The fact that I ceased believing any of that arcane mythology has not, I'm sure, deterred the faithful from their confident belief that I was healed through prayer. The fact that over the past four decades, practically all of those faithful have turned to the Black Arts for medical help and now do so without any concern for showing a lack of faith, doesn't seem to lessen the hoopla over the importance of praying for someone's healing. Call the doctor but call for back-up.
Again I say, the appreciation I feel for anyone's stated humanism and thoughtfulness during this time of looking for relief for my wife's pain, is a deep and real appreciation. The idea that someone cares enough to offer to pray for her is sincerely well-received, by both of us. The fact that I would be just as receptive and thankful to a person who, with apparent sincerity, were to tell me he would send over a pet Unicorn to visit my wife in the hospital, should not cast doubt on my appreciation. Any and all positive thoughts of others will be well received. If a friend calls to say his or her deceased grandmother was a devout woman who is no doubt still practicing her healing touch from the other side and will visit my wife (waiting outside the virtual door while the Unicorn is near the bed), I will thank the friend sincerely. Should a Native American acquaintance tell me his father is a hatathali who will gladly sing the Healing Way ceremony on behalf of my wife, I will sincerely thank the man for the thoughtful kindness.
And while I am hopeful that these words are light and perhaps a little humorous, I ask you to consider something that will help you understand my utter sincerity in the whole matter.
If you are of any religious persuasion other than Catholic, and upon the imminent death of a loved one some Catholic friend offers to send over his priest to administer last rites, how would you handle the offer? Aside from the fact the priest probably wouldn't do it for a non-Catholic, how would you feel about the offer itself? Might you accept as a way of hedging your bets on behalf of the loved one? Might you accept out of a dull surprise by the offer and not wanting to seem ungrateful? Would you fear it might be offensive to the God you worship (or sort of believe in), to have this sudden relationship with a particularly strange concept? Would you be so unkind as to laugh at your Catholic friend for even suggesting such an outlandish idea?
And if you are a Catholic, consider how unimportant anyone else's opinion would be at that moment. You're calling the priest.
In other words, whatever anyone believes is personal and important. Personally, I'm a humanist. I believe it's important to respect others for their depth of motivation, not their method of expressing it.
Please bear in mind through all of this that I am not an Atheist. I have no horse in the race toward an afterlife and no personal concern one way or another as to whether there might be a supreme being anywhere. I observe pain and misfortune befalling good people and I see health and prosperity heaped upon evil people. Human life convinces me of only one thing: we're all in it together. Being good to one another seems to me the best way to get through it. Trying to convince or force others to believe as we do is futile. Tiring, too. And it would be quite easy for me to be irritated by all the offers of prayer for my wife because I see praying as a completely meaningless waste of time. However, the positive thought it requires for someone to actually make this meaningless effort is itself, meaningful!
So, thanks for your prayers. And your Unicorn or Shaman or deceased grandmother visits. My deep respect is always paid to anyone with the humanity to be considerate of others.
UPDATE - - Sunday, 10/02 She's home and gaining strength quickly. Already I've been told once that it was "due to all those prayers." My respect goes to a top-notch surgeon, to medical science, and to a strong lady who maintains a positive attitude about the desire to live and thrive.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Dumping IKE!
Progress is an uphill battle.
There's no logical reason for progress to be so difficult, except for the fact that some people seem to thrive on being difficult themselves.
In an earlier post, I mentioned that I am a political independent. I think of myself, correctly or not, as an individual with the ability to reason and in possession of a general sense of logic. This whole current flap over the need to get millions of people back to work while the also-obvious need exists to repair our nation's infrastructure, appears to be rather simple. Let the 21st Century WPA begin!
Our current president is in a constant struggle against illogical folks masquerading as legislators. I have to question the motives of those who drag their feet - in fact, drag our entire country to a halt - when their own future interests would be better served by opening their eyes. It must be that many in government have instead opened personal bank accounts and have set up virtual lines of direct deposit from big monied corporations and powerful lobbyists. In other words, their current monetary self-interests outweigh their concern for the possibility that their luxury cars might one day fall through unrepaired bridges. Does it not appear that these legislators are being well paid to fight progress?
Then there's the label: Progressive to deal with. It's often thrust from the lips of ultra-conservatives as though it contains poison or a vile oath. In actual fact, President Obama has never shown himself to be terribly progressive, merely logical in trying to help the masses in our society. I was one Independent who helped elect the man because at least he seemed to hold out the hope of being somewhat progressive, and following the utter destructive previous administration, he offered a huge breath of fresh air. Intelligence alone makes him far more acceptable as a national leader than was the embarrassment and the appearance of ignorance we had to endure for eight years previous.
But really progressive? Would that he were more so and could find a way to bring others along in to a progressive mentality. Our country is in dire need of some dramatic brand of progress. Having the "rich get richer and the poor get poorer" spells regression for a society. That frustration has gone on far too long.
If only our leadership could become as wildly liberal and progressive as former President Eisenhower, we might begin the climb out of the dumps. We need not go all the way back to FDR for an example of rescuing the country from ruin; the respected Republican, Eisenhower, will do just fine. Try to consider what it took for him to push through the outragious spending bill to get the Interstate Highway System established. Just imagine that kind of forceful action in dealing with legislators today! Today, we can't even manage to repair what Ike built!
Today's conservatives would be trying to dump Ike, their own party's flag-bearer, and make him a "one-term-president." He was far more progressive than President Obama has shown himself to be thus far. But to hear the ludicrous rhetoric of the far right in their sound bites on the news, you'd think they are facing some kind of liberal monster. No, I'm afraid what they're fighting against is common sense and decency. What today's House of Representatives actually represents is apparently greed - supporting and enabling the immense greed of huge corporations and wealthy individuals. And almost certainly their own greed. Surely enough loose change falls from those deep pockets into the waiting hands of many legislators to influence their votes. (Why a dedicated investigative reporter hasn't made it a mission to dig into the personal, and hidden, income details of members of Congress, I cannot fathom.) I'd wager that the salaries of many of todays members of congress, salaries that have risen to be quite substantial, are less than the amount they take in under the table. Let the needs of the masses go un-noticed as long as the Golden-egg-producing Geese of Corporate America, Wall Street and Big Oil keep handing out bribes!
Real progress will come only when our nation's willingly duplicit (or sadly ignorant) electorate wakes up and fires those who do not represent the people at large. We can UN-elect those whose self interests are placed before public needs. Easy to spot these people; they've sworn an oath to never raise taxes. They pass this off as a good idea and get away with it because it's easy to hoodwink a populace who quite often can't see the big picture. Never raise taxes is an aluring mantra, but it's really a sworn protection for the rich, and there can be little reason to protect those outrageous incomes unless it trickles down to lawmakers' bank accounts. It doesn't trickle into yours or mine. The concept of never increasing taxes is ignorant and destructive. Progress is the victim.
I miss Ike.
There's no logical reason for progress to be so difficult, except for the fact that some people seem to thrive on being difficult themselves.
In an earlier post, I mentioned that I am a political independent. I think of myself, correctly or not, as an individual with the ability to reason and in possession of a general sense of logic. This whole current flap over the need to get millions of people back to work while the also-obvious need exists to repair our nation's infrastructure, appears to be rather simple. Let the 21st Century WPA begin!
Our current president is in a constant struggle against illogical folks masquerading as legislators. I have to question the motives of those who drag their feet - in fact, drag our entire country to a halt - when their own future interests would be better served by opening their eyes. It must be that many in government have instead opened personal bank accounts and have set up virtual lines of direct deposit from big monied corporations and powerful lobbyists. In other words, their current monetary self-interests outweigh their concern for the possibility that their luxury cars might one day fall through unrepaired bridges. Does it not appear that these legislators are being well paid to fight progress?
Then there's the label: Progressive to deal with. It's often thrust from the lips of ultra-conservatives as though it contains poison or a vile oath. In actual fact, President Obama has never shown himself to be terribly progressive, merely logical in trying to help the masses in our society. I was one Independent who helped elect the man because at least he seemed to hold out the hope of being somewhat progressive, and following the utter destructive previous administration, he offered a huge breath of fresh air. Intelligence alone makes him far more acceptable as a national leader than was the embarrassment and the appearance of ignorance we had to endure for eight years previous.
But really progressive? Would that he were more so and could find a way to bring others along in to a progressive mentality. Our country is in dire need of some dramatic brand of progress. Having the "rich get richer and the poor get poorer" spells regression for a society. That frustration has gone on far too long.
If only our leadership could become as wildly liberal and progressive as former President Eisenhower, we might begin the climb out of the dumps. We need not go all the way back to FDR for an example of rescuing the country from ruin; the respected Republican, Eisenhower, will do just fine. Try to consider what it took for him to push through the outragious spending bill to get the Interstate Highway System established. Just imagine that kind of forceful action in dealing with legislators today! Today, we can't even manage to repair what Ike built!
Today's conservatives would be trying to dump Ike, their own party's flag-bearer, and make him a "one-term-president." He was far more progressive than President Obama has shown himself to be thus far. But to hear the ludicrous rhetoric of the far right in their sound bites on the news, you'd think they are facing some kind of liberal monster. No, I'm afraid what they're fighting against is common sense and decency. What today's House of Representatives actually represents is apparently greed - supporting and enabling the immense greed of huge corporations and wealthy individuals. And almost certainly their own greed. Surely enough loose change falls from those deep pockets into the waiting hands of many legislators to influence their votes. (Why a dedicated investigative reporter hasn't made it a mission to dig into the personal, and hidden, income details of members of Congress, I cannot fathom.) I'd wager that the salaries of many of todays members of congress, salaries that have risen to be quite substantial, are less than the amount they take in under the table. Let the needs of the masses go un-noticed as long as the Golden-egg-producing Geese of Corporate America, Wall Street and Big Oil keep handing out bribes!
Real progress will come only when our nation's willingly duplicit (or sadly ignorant) electorate wakes up and fires those who do not represent the people at large. We can UN-elect those whose self interests are placed before public needs. Easy to spot these people; they've sworn an oath to never raise taxes. They pass this off as a good idea and get away with it because it's easy to hoodwink a populace who quite often can't see the big picture. Never raise taxes is an aluring mantra, but it's really a sworn protection for the rich, and there can be little reason to protect those outrageous incomes unless it trickles down to lawmakers' bank accounts. It doesn't trickle into yours or mine. The concept of never increasing taxes is ignorant and destructive. Progress is the victim.
I miss Ike.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Are White People Death Mongers?
Extremely interesting information has come out relating to the Georgia death-row case in the news.
First of all, the fact that Georgia authorities were willing to wait to hear what the US Supreme Court had to say in the matter was a nice surprise. They didn't have to wait by law, but they waited. Another surprise was the letter offered by multiple former - and current - correctional officers and wardens pleading for caution. Their own consciences have been damaged and a great deal of loss of sleep has been suffered by this collective group who have executed people who might possibly have been innocent.
What struck me more though, were the surprising cultural issues and glaring differences between attitudes of Blacks and Whites concerning our execution practices themselves.
The man being executed in Texas at the very time of the Georgia case's national attention this week, was a white man who confessed his guilt and was known by others to have been guilty without question. And the crime of dragging a black man unmercifully behind a vehicle for miles, actually beyond causing death, going on until the body was decapitated - this heinous crime would seem to shout for the ultimate penalty. Yet it has been reported that the [black] family of the murdered man had begged the court not to execute this despicable [white] human who murdered their loved one in such an unimaginably horrifying way. They said killing someone could not lessen their loss.
In Mississippi currently another [white] man is unquestionably guilty of murdering a [black] man, and again the family of the deceased has made the case for not taking another life in an attempt to lessen their loss; their statement was rational and powerful. So much so that Mississippi authorities are considering taking the death penalty off the table. The family's prepared statement was an amazing document that expressed so much pain and suffering caused by the crime but at the same time conveyed that there would actually be new pain still to come for these sufferers if they were to see the murderer executed.
In both of these cases, there was no question of guilt; there was only the question of penalty. And in both cases, the black sufferers of loss asked the courts to not take a life for a life, but to allow the clearly guilty white criminal to live.
In the case in Georgia, a black man has spent over twenty years in prison, on death row, his execution set now for the fourth time, and all along he has been pleading innocence of the crime. [This is, of course, itself an extremely rare event; the truly guilty practically always unburden themselves at some point and admit to the crime, especially over a long period of imprisonment. This man refuses even to eat a "last meal" each time the execution is imminent; he is that strong still in proclaiming his innocence.]
Seven of the "witnesses" against this man have recanted in recent years, some admitted to lying, under pressure from police, about what they saw. Of only two remaining "witnesses" from the trial, one was also a suspect in the crime and his testimony against the accused helped remove himself from suspicion. Three members of the jury from that trial say they could now not find the accused guilty due to the lack of sufficient circumstantial evidence. It had been the weight of nine "witnesses" at the time that made the case; at least seven of them really should not have counted at all.
Amid all the above extenuating circumstances, the white family of the deceased have vehemently called for the execution of the black man convicted. One reporter stated that these people are "not blood-thirsty, only justice-thirsty." If this were true, why would they not want, more than anything, to know beyond any shadow of a doubt that the actual murderer is the one being executed? Is it enough for these folks to know that somebody, in this instance, maybe even important that some black somebody, is paying the ultimate penalty for the death of their loved one?
If ever there were a case in which a family suffering loss would want to show the utmost patience in order to be assured of the guilt or innocence of an accused murderer, it seems this would be that case. It would appear that if the racial variables were reversed here, at the very least the deceased's family would be asking the court to please not execute until absolutely sure of guilt; if the examples of the attitudes of black families mentioned in other cases are any indication of cultural differences involved, the plea would likely be to not execute at all - to not take a life for a life.
As a member of the segment of the human race called white, I am culturally embarrassed by the proceedings in Georgia. I was similarly culturally embarrassed recently by the debate crowd's eruption in applause and hoots of approval for the many executions carried out under the administration of the governor of Texas. My guess is that the audience was heavily predominant in white attendees.
Here's another cultural slant that bothers me, though there is no space to cover it properly in this post, so it will need further rumination later. In the raucous response to the record of a far-right governor, especially this particular governor who also boasts of a great following by ultra-religious conservatives, there is a strange dichotomy of attitudes. Those same folks who gladly witness executions and apparently want more, will do practically anything to see that no abortion is ever allowed in our country! In other words, the medically approved and directed method of preventing an embryo from even becoming a human being is never to be sanctioned by religious people. But directing the execution of a fully functioning human being - because he is thought to be guilty of some terrible crime, whether or not it's provable beyond any shadow of doubt - that kind of killing is justified. And apparently applauded!
As I said in an earlier post, I am eternally confused!
An infuriating P.S. - this morning's news tells us the execution was carried out late last night.
First of all, the fact that Georgia authorities were willing to wait to hear what the US Supreme Court had to say in the matter was a nice surprise. They didn't have to wait by law, but they waited. Another surprise was the letter offered by multiple former - and current - correctional officers and wardens pleading for caution. Their own consciences have been damaged and a great deal of loss of sleep has been suffered by this collective group who have executed people who might possibly have been innocent.
What struck me more though, were the surprising cultural issues and glaring differences between attitudes of Blacks and Whites concerning our execution practices themselves.
The man being executed in Texas at the very time of the Georgia case's national attention this week, was a white man who confessed his guilt and was known by others to have been guilty without question. And the crime of dragging a black man unmercifully behind a vehicle for miles, actually beyond causing death, going on until the body was decapitated - this heinous crime would seem to shout for the ultimate penalty. Yet it has been reported that the [black] family of the murdered man had begged the court not to execute this despicable [white] human who murdered their loved one in such an unimaginably horrifying way. They said killing someone could not lessen their loss.
In Mississippi currently another [white] man is unquestionably guilty of murdering a [black] man, and again the family of the deceased has made the case for not taking another life in an attempt to lessen their loss; their statement was rational and powerful. So much so that Mississippi authorities are considering taking the death penalty off the table. The family's prepared statement was an amazing document that expressed so much pain and suffering caused by the crime but at the same time conveyed that there would actually be new pain still to come for these sufferers if they were to see the murderer executed.
In both of these cases, there was no question of guilt; there was only the question of penalty. And in both cases, the black sufferers of loss asked the courts to not take a life for a life, but to allow the clearly guilty white criminal to live.
In the case in Georgia, a black man has spent over twenty years in prison, on death row, his execution set now for the fourth time, and all along he has been pleading innocence of the crime. [This is, of course, itself an extremely rare event; the truly guilty practically always unburden themselves at some point and admit to the crime, especially over a long period of imprisonment. This man refuses even to eat a "last meal" each time the execution is imminent; he is that strong still in proclaiming his innocence.]
Seven of the "witnesses" against this man have recanted in recent years, some admitted to lying, under pressure from police, about what they saw. Of only two remaining "witnesses" from the trial, one was also a suspect in the crime and his testimony against the accused helped remove himself from suspicion. Three members of the jury from that trial say they could now not find the accused guilty due to the lack of sufficient circumstantial evidence. It had been the weight of nine "witnesses" at the time that made the case; at least seven of them really should not have counted at all.
Amid all the above extenuating circumstances, the white family of the deceased have vehemently called for the execution of the black man convicted. One reporter stated that these people are "not blood-thirsty, only justice-thirsty." If this were true, why would they not want, more than anything, to know beyond any shadow of a doubt that the actual murderer is the one being executed? Is it enough for these folks to know that somebody, in this instance, maybe even important that some black somebody, is paying the ultimate penalty for the death of their loved one?
If ever there were a case in which a family suffering loss would want to show the utmost patience in order to be assured of the guilt or innocence of an accused murderer, it seems this would be that case. It would appear that if the racial variables were reversed here, at the very least the deceased's family would be asking the court to please not execute until absolutely sure of guilt; if the examples of the attitudes of black families mentioned in other cases are any indication of cultural differences involved, the plea would likely be to not execute at all - to not take a life for a life.
As a member of the segment of the human race called white, I am culturally embarrassed by the proceedings in Georgia. I was similarly culturally embarrassed recently by the debate crowd's eruption in applause and hoots of approval for the many executions carried out under the administration of the governor of Texas. My guess is that the audience was heavily predominant in white attendees.
Here's another cultural slant that bothers me, though there is no space to cover it properly in this post, so it will need further rumination later. In the raucous response to the record of a far-right governor, especially this particular governor who also boasts of a great following by ultra-religious conservatives, there is a strange dichotomy of attitudes. Those same folks who gladly witness executions and apparently want more, will do practically anything to see that no abortion is ever allowed in our country! In other words, the medically approved and directed method of preventing an embryo from even becoming a human being is never to be sanctioned by religious people. But directing the execution of a fully functioning human being - because he is thought to be guilty of some terrible crime, whether or not it's provable beyond any shadow of doubt - that kind of killing is justified. And apparently applauded!
As I said in an earlier post, I am eternally confused!
An infuriating P.S. - this morning's news tells us the execution was carried out late last night.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Tolerance
My wife and I watched a televised movie last night. The subject of the 1987 film was the harsh realities faced by gay lovers a century ago. In this case, the "scene of the crime" was jolly olde England and the players were of that class of young aristocrats who went off to Oxford and Cambridge, some already called "lords" and most already adept at pontificating on many erudite matters. These were privileged fellows whose futures were not in any peril from without; their families owned land and they were heirs to large fortunes, assumed to become men of weighty influence in society.
The two star protagonists were innocent boy-men who found in each other more fundamental interest and excitement than either could see in females. Their accumulating commonalities only increased their deep feelings for each other during their years of sharing close quarters and activities while in the colleges. Upon receipt of diplomas and acceptance into their rightful positions in law and finance, respectively, they maintained the old college-chum demeanor in the eyes of family and all who knew them, but they seethed with suppressed desire for each other. In rare moments of total privacy they confessed profound love for one another, but they cautiously avoided showing this unspeakable corruption in the presence of others. They also, owing to the intense fear on the part of one of the pair, managed to keep their love on the emotional level and never allowed the physical fulfilment to progress beyond the infrequent stealthy kiss.
A noted friend and schoolmate of the pair had been accused and convicted of moral corruption and of encouraging this sin among members of his inferiors (the working class). He was sentenced to six months imprisonment with hard labor, and told in a terse, matter-of-fact statement from the presiding judge that he would be disbarred and had already lost all hope of a political career he was sure to have enjoyed.
Only a movie, right?
Naturally, dramatic license is taken with any subject of a film, but as to the realistic depth of the subject at hand, it was probably handled with care and kept close to the original story of real events. A hundred years on, we don't any longer send gay people to prison for revealing their desire for others of the same sex. And the western world doesn't t kill homosexuals as some societies still do. But do we actually show tolerance?
Generally, I have eschewed the term "tolerance" because of its connotation of judgment. The context seemed to be that decent people are put upon to tolerate someone who is not desirable among us or who has shown himself less than totally respectable.
This morning I had to look up Webster's definition of the word. The first meaning of tolerate is "allow or permit," which I would think falls into a scenario such as this: a horse owner boards a fine horse but seldom goes riding, therefore expects a groomer to take care of the horse. He finds that the hired hand is bringing a date out to ride at least once every week without permission, but since it's good for the horse to be exercised, the owner "tolerates" this behavior.
The second meaning of tolerate (where ownership, therefore "permission," is not involved), is "to recognize and respect without necessarily agreeing." [Emphasis mine] And I go back to my earlier comment. The meaning had seemed to me to be a forced acceptance of something undesirable, and that's basically the meaning tacitly understood by society even in today's "enlightened" world of the twenty-first century.
My neighborhood grudgingly accepts the clearly undesirable gay couple next door to me. There is no respect for them nor even recognition of their marriage, save from my wife and me and perhaps someone whose gracious tolerance we don't yet know. I have to field many snide remarks and cruel barbs hurled at the two elderly gentlemen by cowardly critics. Due to my proximity to the offensive couple, others assume I am the most onerously confronted by their disgraceful way of life. The shallow religious bigots all around me like to think I am one of them and therefore I would naturally be unhappy that I'm forced to live near the undesirables. In fact, though these two particular gay men are not the neat and tidy types we typically see and appreciate for their uncanny ability to raise property values in Palm Springs, they are okay people and good neighbors. They are far less offensive to me in most every way than are the aforementioned good people of my little village.
So I must accept the sad truth that for many years ahead, in order to prevent becoming an offense myself I will need to walk that fine line of quiet neutrality. The simple act of making a strong defense of my decent near neighbors would offend the many, and if I were to join in the crude jokes and ignorant laughter offered by the many, I would offend myself, my next-door friends and the whole cosmos. Oh, if some specific need were to arise in which my gay friends needed my protection, I would accept the mantle of social pariah in my neighborhood in order to do the right thing. But for now, it behooves me to avoid over-reacting, to simply respect these two men quietly and avoid jumping onto a soapbox to try to convince the good people around us that ignorance and hate need to fall away eventually into the distant past.
This is my treatise today on gay-bashing, on the lack of tolerance and the general misunderstanding and misuse of the word. Racism will have to await another diatribe!
The two star protagonists were innocent boy-men who found in each other more fundamental interest and excitement than either could see in females. Their accumulating commonalities only increased their deep feelings for each other during their years of sharing close quarters and activities while in the colleges. Upon receipt of diplomas and acceptance into their rightful positions in law and finance, respectively, they maintained the old college-chum demeanor in the eyes of family and all who knew them, but they seethed with suppressed desire for each other. In rare moments of total privacy they confessed profound love for one another, but they cautiously avoided showing this unspeakable corruption in the presence of others. They also, owing to the intense fear on the part of one of the pair, managed to keep their love on the emotional level and never allowed the physical fulfilment to progress beyond the infrequent stealthy kiss.
A noted friend and schoolmate of the pair had been accused and convicted of moral corruption and of encouraging this sin among members of his inferiors (the working class). He was sentenced to six months imprisonment with hard labor, and told in a terse, matter-of-fact statement from the presiding judge that he would be disbarred and had already lost all hope of a political career he was sure to have enjoyed.
Only a movie, right?
Naturally, dramatic license is taken with any subject of a film, but as to the realistic depth of the subject at hand, it was probably handled with care and kept close to the original story of real events. A hundred years on, we don't any longer send gay people to prison for revealing their desire for others of the same sex. And the western world doesn't t kill homosexuals as some societies still do. But do we actually show tolerance?
Generally, I have eschewed the term "tolerance" because of its connotation of judgment. The context seemed to be that decent people are put upon to tolerate someone who is not desirable among us or who has shown himself less than totally respectable.
This morning I had to look up Webster's definition of the word. The first meaning of tolerate is "allow or permit," which I would think falls into a scenario such as this: a horse owner boards a fine horse but seldom goes riding, therefore expects a groomer to take care of the horse. He finds that the hired hand is bringing a date out to ride at least once every week without permission, but since it's good for the horse to be exercised, the owner "tolerates" this behavior.
The second meaning of tolerate (where ownership, therefore "permission," is not involved), is "to recognize and respect without necessarily agreeing." [Emphasis mine] And I go back to my earlier comment. The meaning had seemed to me to be a forced acceptance of something undesirable, and that's basically the meaning tacitly understood by society even in today's "enlightened" world of the twenty-first century.
My neighborhood grudgingly accepts the clearly undesirable gay couple next door to me. There is no respect for them nor even recognition of their marriage, save from my wife and me and perhaps someone whose gracious tolerance we don't yet know. I have to field many snide remarks and cruel barbs hurled at the two elderly gentlemen by cowardly critics. Due to my proximity to the offensive couple, others assume I am the most onerously confronted by their disgraceful way of life. The shallow religious bigots all around me like to think I am one of them and therefore I would naturally be unhappy that I'm forced to live near the undesirables. In fact, though these two particular gay men are not the neat and tidy types we typically see and appreciate for their uncanny ability to raise property values in Palm Springs, they are okay people and good neighbors. They are far less offensive to me in most every way than are the aforementioned good people of my little village.
So I must accept the sad truth that for many years ahead, in order to prevent becoming an offense myself I will need to walk that fine line of quiet neutrality. The simple act of making a strong defense of my decent near neighbors would offend the many, and if I were to join in the crude jokes and ignorant laughter offered by the many, I would offend myself, my next-door friends and the whole cosmos. Oh, if some specific need were to arise in which my gay friends needed my protection, I would accept the mantle of social pariah in my neighborhood in order to do the right thing. But for now, it behooves me to avoid over-reacting, to simply respect these two men quietly and avoid jumping onto a soapbox to try to convince the good people around us that ignorance and hate need to fall away eventually into the distant past.
This is my treatise today on gay-bashing, on the lack of tolerance and the general misunderstanding and misuse of the word. Racism will have to await another diatribe!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Would Eternal LIFE be Eternal LIVING?
The term, the goal, "eternal life" has often intrigued me. The idea seems to be very powerful in that it has caused countless millions to devote a current existence to the cause of a future "eternal" one.
Inadvertently, I am editing this draft to post today, on 9/11/11. Ten years have passed and commemorations are all over our television channels honoring those who died in the attacks on our country in 2001. The reading of so many names of those who died, especially when read by their children, is of course, deeply touching. And obviously, those who died are living on in the memories of their own loved ones and in our collective memory. Eternally remembered. But it strikes me that a first responder on that day who rushed into those flames resulting from the attack on the towers in New York was not rushing there to save his own eternal life. He/she was there completely devoted to helping save physical lives of victims, because it was the right thing to do. To prolong this life where possible, not thinking of the next life. Interesting to contemplate that a person who was saved from sure death by one of those responders will be eternally grateful, especially if the person who selflessly saved the lives of others lost his own life in that effort. More interesting for me is the very fact that some of those who died helping others may well be, in the judgment of some, headed for a "judgment day" and "eternal punishment" in a burning lake called hell because of a perceived general un-godliness. I am eternally confused!
Let's consider for a moment just a tiny fragment of eternity.
While learning the old religious song, Amazing Grace, back when I was a child, the next life ideas already gave me pause. "When we've been there ten thousand years," is one phrase of the song. The connotation is that we will be together, doing whatever might be available to do there. But sharing that ten thousand years with others, is a jarring thought. Last night my wife and I had company for dinner and a game of Pinochle. I would have been somewhat happier to have done one or the other, cutting the total time together by a good bit. Typically, for me, the enjoyment of the company of others can wear thin pretty quickly. Spending ten minutes with some people can be rather tiring; ten days around some would drive me bonkers. Ten years with a loved one can be a generally beautiful experience but even within that happy union there can be many difficult times in ten years. Ten thousand years? Really? And with souls I don't even get to choose? I'm not sold!
When my mother, who loved that old song by the way, was eighty-eight years old, I commented to her that she was so healthy and strong she might live a hundred years. She retorted, "Yes, - but why?" Forty-eight years of age at the time and feeling reasonably strong and full of life, I didn't quite grasp her meaning, but I never forgot the question. Today, at sixty-six (my mother having given up the ghost at 99 long after giving up the ability to recognize her own family and probably even herself), her meaning is far less opaque. Life can certainly be exhilarating at times, even as we age, but after passing from that "summertime" of life when the livin' is easy, we don't continue with the same vim and vigour we might have once enjoyed. We deal with the many struggles and pains of living in diminished and less-than-ideal physical bodies. We may lose balance while negotiating a step up or down. May have trouble just standing up from a seated position, and we need to be very careful when trying to get on the floor to play with grandchildren. I'm already wondering whether I might ever have great grandchildren, and if so, whether I will be able to play with them. Oh I do like life, but it's already getting to where the living ain't easy. Perhaps I have the genes that will allow me to reach one hundred years. But why?
Religionists will say, "Well, you can't think of all this in physical terms because eternal life is spiritual, living in spirit form with no pain." Fine. No pain. If my mother, the epitome of devotion and righteousness, had so prepared for her reward in eternity, why was she not allowed to step from the physical life a bit earlier, prior to years of suffering physical and mental deterioration, directly into that painless state of spirit existence? No pain! It's a concept to which I cannot clearly relate, having dealt with insidious pain most of my life from my earliest memories, but I do try to imagine it. Still - ten thousand years?
And then there's eternity! In reality, the term has no meaning to a human. It's too ethereal to even properly contemplate. It actually is supposed to exist beyond time as we know it. Forever. We can grasp only our markings of time - not something beyond the reach of time.
All these thoughts began to visit me consciously back in 1975 while I was a completely devout young minister, struggling to be as righteous as anyone who ever lived (oops! - Bible warns against comparing myself to others) - trying to make my ever-so-righteous mother proud of me (oops! - she could never be guilty of pride!). But what bothered me most was the very fact that I was not a happy human being while trudging along that particular straight-and-narrow path. It appeared to be too arbitrary, based on other people's concept of what it meant to be "righteous." The path was simply not a path on which I could find the delight of living. And when thinking of qualifying to reach an eternal state of life that embodied that same interpretation of "good & bad," I saw eternity as not representative of living at all but as a state of existing as a meaningless pawn on some mystical chessboard. Seeing the need to give up living now as a gesture that might possibly please an invisible force, in the potential hope of achieving something beyond my grasp, even of its desirability, I decided a happy current existence was far more to be desired. I have often said that I awoke one day to realize I was living a "good-news/bad-news" joke. I was not happy in that way of life, but if I did it perfectly, I could go on for eternity in the same way!
My departure from the path I had followed for thirteen years was a welcome return to the fundamentally happy person I had been before. My way of treating other humans had always been based on the Golden Rule, which even the biblical reference stated was one of only two real commandments as recognized supposedly by the God in human form to whom everyone was giving lip service. Since I had been happy living as a Golden Rule human, I figured I may as well live as I saw fit in every way because my basic attitude was desirable to any God there may be.
As far as eternity is concerned, if you should wake up IN it and I'm not there, I genuinely hope you love it and thrive on it - for all eternity - and I won't miss it, apparently. How could I after I'm dead?!
This happens to be submitted on the anniversary of the mayhem in New York, Pennsylvania and Washington DC which took the lives of thousands. I have ultimate respect for these humans and for their loved ones who miss them; I have not one tiny concern with where any one of them will spend eternity. They lived; they were loved.
Inadvertently, I am editing this draft to post today, on 9/11/11. Ten years have passed and commemorations are all over our television channels honoring those who died in the attacks on our country in 2001. The reading of so many names of those who died, especially when read by their children, is of course, deeply touching. And obviously, those who died are living on in the memories of their own loved ones and in our collective memory. Eternally remembered. But it strikes me that a first responder on that day who rushed into those flames resulting from the attack on the towers in New York was not rushing there to save his own eternal life. He/she was there completely devoted to helping save physical lives of victims, because it was the right thing to do. To prolong this life where possible, not thinking of the next life. Interesting to contemplate that a person who was saved from sure death by one of those responders will be eternally grateful, especially if the person who selflessly saved the lives of others lost his own life in that effort. More interesting for me is the very fact that some of those who died helping others may well be, in the judgment of some, headed for a "judgment day" and "eternal punishment" in a burning lake called hell because of a perceived general un-godliness. I am eternally confused!
Let's consider for a moment just a tiny fragment of eternity.
While learning the old religious song, Amazing Grace, back when I was a child, the next life ideas already gave me pause. "When we've been there ten thousand years," is one phrase of the song. The connotation is that we will be together, doing whatever might be available to do there. But sharing that ten thousand years with others, is a jarring thought. Last night my wife and I had company for dinner and a game of Pinochle. I would have been somewhat happier to have done one or the other, cutting the total time together by a good bit. Typically, for me, the enjoyment of the company of others can wear thin pretty quickly. Spending ten minutes with some people can be rather tiring; ten days around some would drive me bonkers. Ten years with a loved one can be a generally beautiful experience but even within that happy union there can be many difficult times in ten years. Ten thousand years? Really? And with souls I don't even get to choose? I'm not sold!
When my mother, who loved that old song by the way, was eighty-eight years old, I commented to her that she was so healthy and strong she might live a hundred years. She retorted, "Yes, - but why?" Forty-eight years of age at the time and feeling reasonably strong and full of life, I didn't quite grasp her meaning, but I never forgot the question. Today, at sixty-six (my mother having given up the ghost at 99 long after giving up the ability to recognize her own family and probably even herself), her meaning is far less opaque. Life can certainly be exhilarating at times, even as we age, but after passing from that "summertime" of life when the livin' is easy, we don't continue with the same vim and vigour we might have once enjoyed. We deal with the many struggles and pains of living in diminished and less-than-ideal physical bodies. We may lose balance while negotiating a step up or down. May have trouble just standing up from a seated position, and we need to be very careful when trying to get on the floor to play with grandchildren. I'm already wondering whether I might ever have great grandchildren, and if so, whether I will be able to play with them. Oh I do like life, but it's already getting to where the living ain't easy. Perhaps I have the genes that will allow me to reach one hundred years. But why?
Religionists will say, "Well, you can't think of all this in physical terms because eternal life is spiritual, living in spirit form with no pain." Fine. No pain. If my mother, the epitome of devotion and righteousness, had so prepared for her reward in eternity, why was she not allowed to step from the physical life a bit earlier, prior to years of suffering physical and mental deterioration, directly into that painless state of spirit existence? No pain! It's a concept to which I cannot clearly relate, having dealt with insidious pain most of my life from my earliest memories, but I do try to imagine it. Still - ten thousand years?
And then there's eternity! In reality, the term has no meaning to a human. It's too ethereal to even properly contemplate. It actually is supposed to exist beyond time as we know it. Forever. We can grasp only our markings of time - not something beyond the reach of time.
All these thoughts began to visit me consciously back in 1975 while I was a completely devout young minister, struggling to be as righteous as anyone who ever lived (oops! - Bible warns against comparing myself to others) - trying to make my ever-so-righteous mother proud of me (oops! - she could never be guilty of pride!). But what bothered me most was the very fact that I was not a happy human being while trudging along that particular straight-and-narrow path. It appeared to be too arbitrary, based on other people's concept of what it meant to be "righteous." The path was simply not a path on which I could find the delight of living. And when thinking of qualifying to reach an eternal state of life that embodied that same interpretation of "good & bad," I saw eternity as not representative of living at all but as a state of existing as a meaningless pawn on some mystical chessboard. Seeing the need to give up living now as a gesture that might possibly please an invisible force, in the potential hope of achieving something beyond my grasp, even of its desirability, I decided a happy current existence was far more to be desired. I have often said that I awoke one day to realize I was living a "good-news/bad-news" joke. I was not happy in that way of life, but if I did it perfectly, I could go on for eternity in the same way!
My departure from the path I had followed for thirteen years was a welcome return to the fundamentally happy person I had been before. My way of treating other humans had always been based on the Golden Rule, which even the biblical reference stated was one of only two real commandments as recognized supposedly by the God in human form to whom everyone was giving lip service. Since I had been happy living as a Golden Rule human, I figured I may as well live as I saw fit in every way because my basic attitude was desirable to any God there may be.
As far as eternity is concerned, if you should wake up IN it and I'm not there, I genuinely hope you love it and thrive on it - for all eternity - and I won't miss it, apparently. How could I after I'm dead?!
This happens to be submitted on the anniversary of the mayhem in New York, Pennsylvania and Washington DC which took the lives of thousands. I have ultimate respect for these humans and for their loved ones who miss them; I have not one tiny concern with where any one of them will spend eternity. They lived; they were loved.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Expectations
With respect to Dickens, I decided not to use "Great" in the title line. Just expectations - that can be enough to drive us over the edge sometimes. And be critical or judgmental toward others.
Another week has rolled by since my last post, and it's the Labor Day weekend already. End of summer. That's really the way most people see Labor Day, just the signal that summer is ebbing, school is starting, or has already in some areas, white clothing will now not be "acceptable" in some circles until next spring. At least this is what I hear. But actually celebrating labor on this weekend? Perhaps a few will remember to do that. Probably more in Wisconsin will consider the implications of the day more than people might elsewhere; they just had to fight the ludicrous governor there to keep some union rights. Say what you will, our nation would have few of its greatest successes and fewer individual rights today if laboring folks had not unionized and fought the abuses of industrialists more than a century ago. And the fight today is possibly as arduous as it's ever been.
Labor deserves its special day, so I hope some of us raise a toast, sipping our iced tea, beer, lemonade or other beverage of choice, during gatherings over the holiday called "Labor Day." Please recall, we wouldn't even have "weekends" in this society were it not for labor unions!
But to my point: we tend to have expectations of others in our small circles of influence. And many times, perhaps in more than half of our experiences, we are not satisfied in our expectations. Part of living among others (simply put, society) is the need to balance ourselves within that framework of satisfaction vs. disappointment. Personally, I find it best for my equanimity to watch for the counter-balancing offered to our notice. Over this holiday weekend my wife and I are privileged to have our kids and grandson visiting. The time spent in watching a little boy grow up and beginning to recognize his world and himself - priceless! I had to bow to the desires of a client and go out yesterday to show a property again (fourth time) and then to write the purchase offer; my Saturday time with my offspring was reduced by over four hours to deal with business. No one blamed me for taking that time, but I am fairly sure it was disappointing to a degree for someone. Was to me! But we all know some things need to be done, even when they are inconvenient.
Golfing with my son and grandson is one of the great delights of my life. Jack, at five, is already able to hit the ball farther than some of my local friends can. Of course, like labor, these folks deserve recognition; they are in some cases over ninety years of age and still going out on the golf course and enjoying themselves.
Anyway, a few minutes ago on a gorgeous Sunday morning with the fairway beckoning from just outside our back door, I asked my son if he would like to get an early round of golf in, but he was more content to sprawl on the couch in a slow morning climb back to wakefulness. Our bio-rhythms have never been in sync. I tried for many years to get my growing boys to join me at sun-up on the first tee but they never could stir themselves into active living until late morning. So I appreciated the good things they did with their time later in the day and they watched me turning in exhausted by eleven PM when they were beginning new projects. If I ever expected them to handle their day/night schedules in a fashion similar to my own, I would have been always disappointed. I had to be the "adult" and accept the differences, complimenting their strengths while accomplishing what I could within my own strengths. It's still this way.
My expectations for my sons and grandson are that they will make life happen as they see fit and in a way that creates their greatest happiness. They are not responsible to me nor for living my life over again. They are free to be themselves. In this manner, I avoid being disappointed while reveling in our many shared experiences and celebrating our differences.
Another week has rolled by since my last post, and it's the Labor Day weekend already. End of summer. That's really the way most people see Labor Day, just the signal that summer is ebbing, school is starting, or has already in some areas, white clothing will now not be "acceptable" in some circles until next spring. At least this is what I hear. But actually celebrating labor on this weekend? Perhaps a few will remember to do that. Probably more in Wisconsin will consider the implications of the day more than people might elsewhere; they just had to fight the ludicrous governor there to keep some union rights. Say what you will, our nation would have few of its greatest successes and fewer individual rights today if laboring folks had not unionized and fought the abuses of industrialists more than a century ago. And the fight today is possibly as arduous as it's ever been.
Labor deserves its special day, so I hope some of us raise a toast, sipping our iced tea, beer, lemonade or other beverage of choice, during gatherings over the holiday called "Labor Day." Please recall, we wouldn't even have "weekends" in this society were it not for labor unions!
But to my point: we tend to have expectations of others in our small circles of influence. And many times, perhaps in more than half of our experiences, we are not satisfied in our expectations. Part of living among others (simply put, society) is the need to balance ourselves within that framework of satisfaction vs. disappointment. Personally, I find it best for my equanimity to watch for the counter-balancing offered to our notice. Over this holiday weekend my wife and I are privileged to have our kids and grandson visiting. The time spent in watching a little boy grow up and beginning to recognize his world and himself - priceless! I had to bow to the desires of a client and go out yesterday to show a property again (fourth time) and then to write the purchase offer; my Saturday time with my offspring was reduced by over four hours to deal with business. No one blamed me for taking that time, but I am fairly sure it was disappointing to a degree for someone. Was to me! But we all know some things need to be done, even when they are inconvenient.
Golfing with my son and grandson is one of the great delights of my life. Jack, at five, is already able to hit the ball farther than some of my local friends can. Of course, like labor, these folks deserve recognition; they are in some cases over ninety years of age and still going out on the golf course and enjoying themselves.
Anyway, a few minutes ago on a gorgeous Sunday morning with the fairway beckoning from just outside our back door, I asked my son if he would like to get an early round of golf in, but he was more content to sprawl on the couch in a slow morning climb back to wakefulness. Our bio-rhythms have never been in sync. I tried for many years to get my growing boys to join me at sun-up on the first tee but they never could stir themselves into active living until late morning. So I appreciated the good things they did with their time later in the day and they watched me turning in exhausted by eleven PM when they were beginning new projects. If I ever expected them to handle their day/night schedules in a fashion similar to my own, I would have been always disappointed. I had to be the "adult" and accept the differences, complimenting their strengths while accomplishing what I could within my own strengths. It's still this way.
My expectations for my sons and grandson are that they will make life happen as they see fit and in a way that creates their greatest happiness. They are not responsible to me nor for living my life over again. They are free to be themselves. In this manner, I avoid being disappointed while reveling in our many shared experiences and celebrating our differences.
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