Can We Soar? It is Time

I wonder now, in these agitated, often berserk times, if we have lost something precious in ourselves. Maybe we never had it. Maybe I have an image of our humanness in my mind that does not exist outside my mind. If so, then where did I get the idea that we are mostly good, and kind, and know how to behave in decent ways? I got it from people in my life who demonstrated those beautiful characteristics to me. Real people. Family. Teachers. Neighbors. Coaches. Friends.

I know we can be caring people because I still see people caring all the time. And because I want to be caring, too. Where does that come from if we are basically just selfish, coarse, vulgar people?

Who in our culture today champions good manners, courtesy, appropriateness? Where are we to look for people who value intelligence, learning, curiosity; who demonstrate kindness and generosity?

It was blistering hot this past weekend. I was running errands and saw an elderly woman walking on the sidewalk. She was frail, had on a lightweight sweater and was carrying a small bag of maybe groceries or maybe household items. I passed her going the other way and I slowed to watch her in my rearview mirror. I turned my car around and put on my flashers and slowed down by the curb next to her. I stopped and rolled down my window and asked if I could take her to where she was going. She never really looked at me, she just shuffled along, and said, “Oh, no thank you.” I said, “It’s so hot out and I would be happy to take you wherever.” She just smiled and kept walking.

I looked at my dashboard and the temperature reading was 108. I slowly drove on but felt terrible for her.

I wondered if, in this day and time, she simply refused to get in the car with a stranger for fear that something bad might happen. How enormously sad that as a society we fear one another with such intensity. I do not fault her. If she was my mother I would not want her to get in some man’s car either. I felt helpless though. I can’t imagine how she got home in that heat.

Wouldn’t it be nice to live in a society where we all openly helped one another in every way possible? And where none of us were afraid to be helped? Where none of us worried that we were being manipulated or used for some form of mistreatment if we allowed another person to assist us?

Emerson once said, “The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be.”

Why do we not decide to be respectful, warmhearted, unselfish, and neighborly? Why are those attributes seen today as weakness, cowardice, passive, naive? When did we get the idea that cheating others, grabbing what we want, climbing over someone else, lying to avoid responsibility for our actions, and disregarding the feelings of another person, on our way to fulfilling our basest urges, is American, is acceptable, is right?

I’m not calling for nirvana. I don’t expect everyone to be nice all the time. But what has happened to our sense of good will? When did we decide to disregard as irrelevant, feeble, and useless, our conscience and the innate power of reasoning and humility in defining our conduct with others?

Novelist Pat Conroy had a great line, “My mother, Southern to the bone, once told me, ‘All Southern literature can be summed up in these words: On the night the hogs ate Willie, Mama died when she heard what Daddy did to sister.’”

It’s funny at first. But then you sense the harsh reality in it. Southern literature and all good literature for that matter remind us that we humans can sink into slimy depths of conduct if we are not careful. There are, as Jung said, our shadow sides where lurk unresolved conflicts, unhealed wounds, rage and fear, that drive us toward bitter and sometimes violent living.

Today, those unhealthy aspects of our humanity seem perfectly acceptable if not even outright encouraged. Where can we find those amazing individuals who instead guide us in the direction of emotions and strengths that are uplifting and transforming, that show us the superiority of common goodness, integrity, and dignity?

There is an old saying, “You are destined to fly, but that cocoon has to go.”

We are as a society caught in some crusty, dark cocoon, unborn yet, embryonic and formless. In order to bloom into something beautiful, we will need to shed that shell. It is not intended to protect us forever, only until we are big enough and healthy enough to break free. It is way past time.

We are Made for Human Connection

There are words from Brandi Carlile’s song, “The Story,” that I might sing, and perhaps you, too. “All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to” You don’t have to be single or alone to feel the depth of those words. Someone in a longtime marriage or relationship might feel them, too. The voyage through life takes each one of us through an assortment of experiences. Some of them ennoble us. Some crush us. Some lift us beyond ourselves and carry us into the lives of those who need us. And some carry us to those we need. Some experiences are burdens. Others ease and encourage us. Some leave us baffled and unsure. Some build confidence within us and are so affirming that we grow in substance, in courage, in tenderness, and sympathy. As we age, the lines in our faces can represent the hurts we have not yet resolved. Or t

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want

Do we need a new country?

Have you seen the elaborate, stylish, opulent television commercial for Cartier? The original commercial seemed to go on forever, a full three minutes. They have shortened it now, but it still drips with ostentatiousness. It is conspicuously pretentious in spite of the beautiful music and the sleek panther and the stunning scenery and the elegant model dressed in a striking red gown. The commercial takes the viewer through an amazing montage of dreamy landscapes and famous cities and spectacular stunts while moving past a giant expensive watch and finally to a glittering diamond bracelet modeled by the woman in red. Each time I see it I keep wondering who the target audience is. It seems to be such an over the top expression of unbridled greed and materialism gone ape. In a time when much of the world is starving and millions are still out of work here at home it seems bizarre that Cartier would spend what has to be millions on a television commercial celebrating 165 years in

The Unclad Soul

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