Sheltered, warm, fed, loved and loving. Feeling joy in spite of all that is awry in the world that I know and love. On our boat, the well named Grace, with my beloved David and beloved Amelia, listening to country music and unexpected, unknown Christmas carols and songs on the radio. Yesterday's gout is much diminished with little pain now that I'm back to my more balanced diet.
We participated in a local marina New Year's Eve ritual - gathering on the end of the dock to have appetizers and toast the last sunset of the year. We joined about 10 people several we're friendly with from the Monday night potlucks for a very chilly (actually really cold with wind chill), rather quick few moments of conversation and fellowship. Neither sunset nor full moon rise were visible through cloud cover but faith that both were there. Then back to Grace for hot soup, reading, writing.
I finished reading Black Like Me by John Griffin today, an iconic book from the early 1960s about the realities, the horrors of racism - racism both subtle and blatant. For those who don't know the book, Mr Griffin, a white writer/journalist changed his skin color in order to live among black people in the South, a sociological research project. His stories of his experiences of injustice, disrespect, fear, poverty living as a black man remind me of stories African American dancer friend, Arthur Hall (now passed over) told me of growing up in Tennessee. How we humans can be so inhumane to other humans explodes my brain and hurts my heart.
There is a final section of the journal/book in which Mr. Griffin speaks about what has changed (into the 70s?) since his book was published. He spoke of how many of us, black and white, hoped for integration of our cultures; how that mostly meant black becoming more like us white folk as we were the dominate, more powerful culture. It became apparent that the black people needed to discover or rediscover their own heritage and culture, somewhat apart from their relation to the dominate and dominating European-based heritage.
So here we are more than a half century later - some progress in embracing difference with respect, and justice, for some...but not all. I wonder now if Latinos and Republicans and Democrats must also discover or rediscover our own heritage, look carefully at the assets and the liabilities, the lightness and the darkness of each of cultural/social/economic heritage and decide, in love, what we want to bring forward to create a more generous and balanced world.
I feel as if I'm rambling here, not quite able to put my thinking out there clearly. Another memory of sobbing through Bamuthi's dance/text class at Bates Dance Festival one year. Saying to him "But things are better. We're not hanging black people." I'm humbled and embarrassed by my naivete' of his lived experience.
In my head all day I've been trying to draw back a quote, a sentence in a man's voice...."and here we are......" I can't bring the rest but it has to do with thoughts like "again", "together", "searching", "being our most human, defective, and luminous selves". Lacking ability to identify and bring back this, "Desiderata" gets pretty close and is a good way to bring in the new year. These last phrases...I'll copy the entire poem in another post.
Joyful, healthy New Year filled with love and compassion, from and to each and all.
- You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.
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