Among the questions echoing in most of us these days is this one: “How can we be in this place of so much hatred?”
I too, wonder, so, I lay in bed remembering my decade, and Joni Mitchell singing the beautiful, haunting, honeyed song “California,” with lyrics saying, “They won’t give peace a chance, that was just a dream some of us had…. California I’m coming home … Oh, will you take me as I am? Will you?”
And so, it behooves me to stand up to this fight too – another time – never imagining I would have to re-live the marches of the ‘60s.
Now, though, my grief is deeper than it was. Last night, I sobbed seeing the Mayor of L.A. asking for the removal of the California National Guard after the city had just recently been terrorized with relentless, raging fires. I don’t cry much anymore. We usually live in a bubble here, so I had forgotten how it feels to be close up to the excruciating, heart-breaking pain of seeing children and innocents hurt in unnecessary violence and rampages.
I do believe in freedom of speech. I have come to engage in acts of speaking up with hard-learned guardrails, well-worn from use, tools for how to use words respectfully and from an adult stance. I sometimes call it, as we say in yoga, the “warrior pose,” or “the tree pose,” because it is not mean- spirited, it is grounded in the earth. Using our voices is profound when we exercise our full ability to stay strong, but do it with vision, standing up for what is fair and respectful.
How can this be happening? I have spent much of my life helping people resolve conflict, work through difficult dialogues, in gusty conversations, struggling with terrible tension in their marriages, families or friendships, helping them find ways to be heard, discover collaboration and civil resolutions. It brings me to my knees seeing glaring violence again.
Chief Seattle watched his people slaughtered and spoke about the land, the eagles and air. “Will you teach your children what we have taught our children?” he asked. “Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself … How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land?”
Then I remembered how Anthony Hinton spoke such poignant words at the end of his recent talk here for the Sonoma Speakers Series. He spoke about how freedom was so important, “don’t lose it.” This coming from a man who had spent 30 years wrongly imprisoned on Alabama’s death row.
When will it stop? I believe it stops when we become aware of the many parts inside ourselves that either fight, judge or flee. Once we are conscious of this messy quagmire inside, we can stand in maturity with each other. Don’t we all overreact when scared? Haven’t you found yourself yelling at a cashier or another driver on the road over some minor problem? Getting under our anger and grieving is essential to transformation. It melts us to the ground so we can clarify our wishes and next steps. Sorrow is like having personal windshield wipers clear our psyche, so we discover our longing for morality, kindness and ethics.
Katy Byrne, LMFT, a psychotherapist in Sonoma, can be reached at ConversationswithKaty.com.
Be First to Comment