Tuesday, March 9, 2010
I tend to write about what matters most to me. I might post about my relationship with my best friend who is also my husband. There is a lot to say about our thirty-eight years together. For instance, neither one of us has ever thought of divorce. No, seriously, never. Murder many times, but never divorce. Then there are my seven children. Having children too numerous to remember by name can become quite a story in itself. Add six grandchildren to the mix and well, it’s just plain mayhem.
Did I mention we live on a farm? Yep, we do, with chickens and horses and pigs and ….. Well, I am going to save the goat sleeping on the living room couch story for another day. Let’s just say it is a real funny farm in every sense.
I also care deeply about deep things ….like people. I am especially drawn to people who are not like me. I like different. Different cultures, races, viewpoints, and everything in-between. I am a Christian who truly loves Jesus with all my heart. I also love people who love Buddha, Mohammad or No One. Yep, I love them and invite them to dinner at our house. I want to hear about their lives and what makes them tick, so to speak. I guess that sums it up. I love because I am loved.
Now before you ask if those are wings on my back, look a little closer….at my head. Are you looking? Closely? My mom always said I was an angel…with horns. I think that is probably one of the truest statements about me ever spoken. I can be opinionated but only because I am right most the time. I can get angry, moody, silly, stupid, scary.
Speaking of scary, I am always looking for the next adventure involving humanity. Right now, it’s about The List. What’s that? You’re a crazy adventurer too! Awesome….feel free to jump right in and be a part of making a difference too.
it is my opinion, which means it is highly debateable :) -
Truth is, we're all the same
we all want to survive
and we all kill and steal and cheat
find loop holes
to get there
It's just that
when you are poor
what you do is obvious and
often that is the only
choice you're left
if its illegal, then illegal it is
no lawyers to sort you out
what you do is out on the street
what you do to just survive
and often what you have to do
seems so shocking and dirty
who observe it on a screen, a newspaper, from the sidewalk
from behind their gate
from their car window
from their privilege
When you are protected by your privilege
what you do to survive is subtle
covered up by policy and cushioned by self-protectionist laws
and the "ways of the market"
and when not justified by suitable law
white collar crime seems so inocuous, so clean
well hidden under nice and tidy
under "decent family"
under "good people"
under nice clothes and
While we are watching slumdog and think of ourselves
and our culture perhaps
the developed or developing world
or your caste or class...
more moral perhaps?
it is because we are blind
by our privilege
because it is made to seem natural
not something earned by colonial greed and massacre
we earned it, we are worth it. we are wise capitalists
we worked hard
sweat of our brow
This is what justifies
our lifestyle pursuits
makes us feel better
when we want a good deal,
when we buy cheap goods made cheap by cheap labour
materials and methods.
I do this.
But we are good, no?
and therefore whatever we the good do
is not made criminal,
there are ways...
our market is God, no?
the priviledged are mostly
tourists in someone else's land
or tourists in their own land
as if on holiday
consuming the best like kings and queens
luxury an every-day commodity
our mouths open for more
we are hungry, always hungry
we are good as are they as are we
we are ONE
when the clothes fall off
when the privilege fades away
flesh and bones
spirit and eyes
the God of the market
the God of the privileged
I watched The Fight Club again after several years and it was interesting that different aspects of the movie resonated with me this time than when I had first seen it. Probably because of where I am in my life right now vis-a-vis a decade ago.There are a lot of gems in this well-scripted movie, but what stayed with me most was this piece of monologue from Brad Pitt:
You’re not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your f*&%ing khakis.Aren’t these, though, the things we identify our “selves” with the most? The brands, the paycheck, the number of rooms in a house, the front lawn, the backyard, the mortgage, the rent … but if these things don’t really matter then what does?
We judge people immediately by their titanium watches, their diamond earrings, their leather jackets. We nod our heads as they describe their professions. We “relate” with them when they talk about taxes, phone bills, and the rising cost of every consumable commodity. But do we ever look through to see the person they are?
Do we even look inward that way?
We let material things define us. Armani, Bebe, Gucci, Mercedes.
We let our jobs take over our lives.
We have no time for R&R and introspection because we’re so caught up in the “bling” of life.
We don’t look past the outer shell. We don’t seek answers. We don’t ask questions. We don’t think.All we do is react.
We’ve let ourselves be shaped by things that don’t matter in the bigger scheme of life. Some people find their “calling” but a majority don’t even know the answer to “Who are you?” anymore. Not for anyone else, but for oneself.
And perhaps, most of us are ok with that. Perhaps, that’s how society can function “normally.” When folks don’t go out on a limb seeking answers. When people operate like machinery. Like puppets saying the same things in different languages. Pining for the same material comforts. Fighting for the same limited resources. Lusting. Hoarding.
Dying with just the clothes on their backs.
I’ve realized in the last two years that what makes me happiest are the simplest things in life. Things money can’t buy. Things corruption and greed can’t touch. Things like the twinkle in a person’s eyes. A baby’s toothless smile. The smell of the earth when it rains. A croaking frog. A blooming bud. The silence of the hills. The calmness of a lake. A sunset. Writing.
Satisfaction, I have found, comes from within. Peace follows closely behind.
It’s true that I am able to roam the world and enjoy its people and its beauty only because of the paycheck that comes with a 9-5 job. That monthly deposit to my bank account allows me to do the things I really love. But should I let it define who I am and what my life should be? Shouldn’t I let what I love define what I do?
There are things we want, and then there are things we need. Sometimes we confuse between the two.It’s tough to let go of the lifestyle one has become used to, but it isn’t hard to review and let go of things that truly don’t matter.
This is your life and it’s ending one minute at a time.You can choose to continue living it the only way you think you know how. Or you can ask the hard questions of your self and discover a way you never knew. In the process you might just find out who you really are.