I have been processing so much in my heart these days it’s difficult to stop and take a moment to really dive into the emotions generated by specific severs to our heartstrings. Battle scared and weary, each new awakening seems to come with another hard blow. And so, writing has been difficult. But hearing these words, shared, so beautifully, by my sister Rhei C Gordon In this collaboration with Ken Nwadike, giver of free hugs… It was time to write…
Hurt people hurt people.
Hurt people with assault rifles(?)–Hurt more people
and we ARE love….
I have mused on components of this topic before in varying contexts, but never specific to gun violence… We are all connected and the symptoms of the american dis-ease are showing up in every area of exchange… it’s taken me weeks to pull my thoughts and emotions together on this, and they will continue to reveal themselves in the course of time. I’ll share them when they do…
Anyway. it seems there is a lot more reforming to do beginning with the obvious and then moving on to the elephant in the room… some will likely peg me for victim blaming, and so let me preface myself by saying that I don’t fault the survivors of any shooting. I blame indoctrinative domestication. I blame the fucking patriarchy. Yes, it’s true… I feel that way.
Another truth to this story is that we are all hurting in some way. american “society” raises children to “other” and then sends them to school, where they are expected to find their way in a snake pit of young people trying to find their way and few finding connection… connection to the earth, eachOther, themselves…
rules, regulations and conformity strip the personal connection to actions and kids are expected to follow rules.
where is the love?
Of course the conversation of gun violence should be met with a call for gun law reform. That the top layer, and this is an observation…
I was bullied in my school days. In response I built angry walls around my tender heart. I came into consort with the pit bull snarling at the gate in order to protect myself from the judgement, ridicule and the dismissal… Being one of the only brown people for miles it was the defense I implemented. I learned to speak their language I guess…
I was though, raised with connection to spirit. So even as I was using their tools to protect my heart while in their world, I knew it wasn’t the way and I kept seeking new and expansive ways to both protect and open my heart.
Fortunately I DID have love–From my family and my friends, some of whom became chosen family, others who to this day, I thought loved me like chosen family only to find out that they trivialized my place in their lives… it’s weird what high school does to tender hearts, I am still processing the heart hurt of believing that certain people held me and hold me only to realize they probably never saw me for more than someone to make them laugh. A mascot of sorts.
Why am I bringing this up? Because I want to bring us back to that place that is on the top of everyone’s tongue… to that place of un-assurance, fear, judgement and misunderstanding of ourselves and eachother.
We still don’t know.
What I do know, is that when I was in high school, it was spiritual connection and introspection, it was journeys of exploration that got me through. It’s why I was able to make it only letting the pit bulls out to scare the bullies away. I wasn’t out looking to punish anyone or to cause harm in anyone’s heart. I was just doing whatever I could to stay alive.
As we look at the result of the Parkland tragedy, there are so many layers to unfold.
There is strong need for gun control. It’s clear. No reason for a civilian to have an AR-whatever-they-are… there is every reason to know who has a gun and if they are, not only,a marksman, but if they are of sound mind. And even those considerations are loose. What is considered “mentally fit” these days leaves a lot to question. And the black market will always be the black market. And who the hell knows how many of these guns are out there already. Buy-backs will only take care of some of these runaway guns.
The Youth are standing up and calling for safety in their schools and an end to gun violence and so far, lawmakers (“adults”) are responding in typical fashion, ‘Hell, put more guns in school–arm the teachers–and move closer to
Police state tactics. Put an officer in every school. Metal detectors…’ and so on.
And with merely a vague and creepy glazing over the topic of mental health being tossed around, the american public continues to propagate an exorbitant amount of systemic and belligerent othering, which has identified this “society” since its brutal inception.
Our young people are calling out hard truths, and they are living even more than what they let on…
There is no place more brutal to find yourself than high school. A swirling pool of hormones, emotion, and fear, exacerbated by the toxic results of industrial food, artificial dyes and media driven mind luges of confusing information… how the hell is any child supposed to find themselves amidst those reindeer games?
Let’s go back to the playground and play a little game of tag —Tackle the guy with the open heart —let’s peg him, break him & call him a fag
It was every man for himself out there —no better when some got home —spent the nights shaking in fear , the days trying not to feel so alone
Please don’t hurt me ‘cuz you’re hurthing inside —swallow me up in your pain —none of us have a place to hide we all get wet in the rain
May sound corny or a little cliche’
but when the reindeer games are finally over
it will be Rudolph who saves the day
Let’s go back to the playground how about a little hide and seek . maybe we’ll play for fun this time I’ll count to ten –go hide– promise I won’t peek
Still every man for himself out here —hope it’s better since we’ve grown —paid all our debts in arrears and found ways not to feel so alone
Can’t hurt me now when you’re hurting inside —swallow me up in your pain —Might not have a place to hide but I’m getting out of the rain
May sound corny or a little cliche’ now that all the reindeer games are over.
see? It was Rudolph who saved the day…
I wrote that after receiving a FB message from someone I had gone to school with. He had held a lot of animosity for who he recalled me to be. And he attacked me for being who I am now, calling phony on my evolution.
We carry all of who we have ever been with us on the way. And whatever our intention, we can never know what our actions feel like unless we care to ask. Thirty years later, we can come to clarity about how we have hurt someone, but what if young people had the tools and desire to know how our energy translates?
If we recognized that to invoke peace we must be love…
Somehow, somewhere in all of this, with the president of the united states being the most obscene display of america’s personality disorder, the mirror has to, at some point, awaken more people to the hard truth–the US is likely the ugliest nation on the planet.
Our children, are learning from us and the average american median disposition is one that lacks conviction, integrity, objective perspective, empathy or generosity… what are we teaching our children?
No. I am not blaming the Parkland shooting on the kids. I’m not blaming it on anyone. I’m not even blaming it on the kid who was holding the gun. Because this is not a mental health problem nor is it really about guns. It’s not an issue of what the weapon was even… It is about all of that and more… a lot more. And it will start in love.
Where do we find it? In gratitude for the bees who give much more than honey, pollinating the plants which feed us. In loving embrace of another human with open heart. When we sit and listen to what the water says as she caresses the stream floor—she has been traveling since before time—she might have some answers for those who seek ways to strip away the conventions inflicted upon us all, by patriarchal systems of oppression.
Creative flow and spiritual connection are medicine.
Whether our boys are protectors of the land and the people, or they become weapons of the societal machine–the toxicity of oppression is apparent either way. And we all have a responsibility to find our love. Not the fairy tale image of “happily ever” after with a picket fence… our LOVE… or connection to all that is… our connection to the great mother who binds us all in connection. There is great need to discontinue the cutting away of that connection….
Here in our own community, one of our tender and beloved boys sits in jail for making a stupid remark about ‘shooting up the school’ in the midst of sharing about his painful times and feelings of abandonment. From the outside looking in to the flat screen world, sure, people could tell all kinds of stories about what would cause him to say it or even think about actually doing something detrimental to those in a place where he felt great harm… but in my heart of hearts, I don’t believe that was ever his intention. The kid doesn’t even have a gun, and context is everything.
So who takes the time, who has the capacity to hold him in love–From up close or even from afar? To go to him and try to understand? What do we do for our kids as a community?
That is a difficult question because we don’t really live in a strong community anymore. And this is one of the drivers of why some of our young people are coming up in such pain. We are not raising families together anymore.
Smack me down if you wish. But I feel it strong. Making the kids sit down at dinner time doesn’t constitute exchange of emotional connection even if it looks like that’s what is happening. Families are struggling on their own, rather than congregating and connecting over the issues arising for our kids, and the Youth are clearly calling for a voice in the conversation. Tragedies like this one call families together. This is a blessed byproduct of such an occurrence, and how can we find more and enriching ways to come together? We ask these questions across communities… Meanwhile, the military awaits the fallout of gamers looking for new fixes when net neutrality
kills their data speed, they will find more drone pilots to enlist. And the Earth Mother continues to call us to attention.
We must find the love somewhere. Quick.
I don’t have all the answers… I am wingin’ it myself as the parent of a young man in america… I have a million questions, plenty of opinions and lots of ideas.
The policy is in our hands and the question remains… what are we going to do with our hearts?
What’s up with the love?
Want Peace? Be Love.
And take 20 minutes with Justin Baldoni…