The Unclad Soul

And into the world are born those spirits, those souls, those persons, who light the way for us out of whatever darkness we are in. These can be mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts, and uncles, teachers and ministers, coaches and mentors. They can be the neighbor or the employer, the elderly or the young, the broken or the mended, the friend or the lover. These are people who do not do things for us, they show us how to do things for ourselves. They model. They instruct. They affirm and nurture. They live and love before us in ways that influence us to be our better selves. They are not always successful, well established, or even well known. They may be on the cleaning staff at the office, or the clerk at the grocery store. They may be the stranger we pass that smiles broadly and shares a sense of warmth as we walk by them. They may be the cop that pulls us over, gives us a calm warning, and sends us on our way. There is something in these people ...

I had an enjoyable conversation with my nephew, David, the other night. In the midst of talking about other things he mentioned a recent essay I posted here. He reads all of them and though he doesn’t always agree with them he makes a point to keep up with what I’m thinking about. That makes his uncle enormously grateful. He has mentioned before that he would like to see more positive pieces and less negative ones. What I wrote about The Handmaid’s Tale was especially dark for him. “Why write about such horrible stuff, Uncle Tim,” he asked. “I never see that side of you when I’m with you. Write about the good stuff,” he said. I took it to heart. I have admitted here before that I know I have a streak of cynicism that runs through me at times. I don’t want to be cynical, or negative. And yet, I don’t know how to hold in my feelings of alarm, fear, and often anger at the seemingly endless injustices in our nation. Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, though a merci...

In the long search for life’s meaning, and its joy, there is stumbling and pause; error, setbacks, and defeat. There are times when, despite our best efforts, we never find the path, and we stay too long on the mistaken road. There are times of deep anguish and a sense of loss that moves all the way into that space that defines us, and leaves us doubting our worth. Love for or from another that languishes and dies. The faded memories of a time when we thought there could be no end to the feelings of togetherness and rightness. We learn the dreams and innocence of our youth are often replaced with the hard realities of adulthood. We discover that those blissful days when the world seemed safe and home was love and people were kind, don’t protect us from a world where it all can become phony, selfish, and mean. When others we trust, even love, betray our loyalty and leave us in something broken and pointless. We experiment with relationships, with marriage, with intimacy, an...

The Hulu series, The Handmaid’s Tale, is a scalding, brutal, at times sickening portrayal of life in some future totalitarian and theocratic state in New England known as Gilead. The storylines are so reprehensible they leave one churning with rage and shattered with sorrow. They offer a glimpse into a horrifying future that may not be impossible to imagine. Gilead is growing childless. Those in charge have devised a way to repopulate the state. Women of childbearing age are simply taken off the streets or out of their homes and proclaimed handmaids for commanders, slick and morally compromised men who have wives unable to conceive. A handmaid is chosen for them, even if she is already married and has children of her own. They are permanently separated from her. She has no rights. Her only existence is to serve the elite couple she is assigned to. The lead character in this inhuman existence is June (Elizabeth Moss), whose name is changed to Offred. Once a month, in the mo...

The president and vice president want to establish a Space Force. The president has signed legislation for a military budget of more than $700 billion dollars. The number is staggering. And the motives within it alarming. There is not a single threat facing us that warrants such a ridiculous idea as a Space Force. What does seriously threaten us is global warming, world poverty, national weather disasters, economic inequality, racial division, the destruction of public education, congressional greed and corruption, a future Stock Market collapse, the arrogant aggression against terrorist groups and the killing of their innocent women and children. Those are the real threats. Those are the things that may end up destroying us as a nation and maybe even the world. And yet, pennies are thrown at these problems, and in some instances, nothing at all is being done to address the dire situations created by these threats. We are not being led by smart people. Money is a ...

I have a friend in Los Angeles who asked me to partner with her on a book project. She is a bright, gifted writer, with a personal story of pain and abuse. She is a gay woman who grew up in a strict Christian home filled with rules and moral demands. Though she knew at a young age she was gay, she had no way of processing that with her parents. When she finally did come out to them, which was an act of enormous courage, she was rebuked, sent to a physician who sexually abused her, and later was put in a mental facility to be treated, not for the abuse she endured, but because she was gay. She grew up in the church, attending services three times a week, doing her best to follow all the rules while still trying to deal with her sexual identity. The church provided no support for her struggle. No affirmation for her as a gay person. Only condemnation. Her parents participated in her rejection. She eventually left home, estranged from her family, and deeply hurt and bitter to...

And now, the struggle for authenticity beckons. The fight for what is real in our world, in our nation, and in ourselves, that fight exists whether we participate in it or not. War is real. Syria is real. Children dying, their small bodies broken in pieces, blood running from their frail faces. That is real. Iraq is real. Afghanistan. Yemen. The horror that stalks the days there, the screams heard through the nights. The innocent brutalized. The cities decimated. Those are all real. We ignore it. We pretend those things are far away from here, that we are not a part of it, that we have no responsibility for it. We close our eyes, our minds, our hearts to it. I can’t turn away, can you? And here, in dear old America, our flag sags under the weight of our mutual shame. Reagan’s tired description of us, “a shining city on a hill,” rings discordant, empty, false. We do not shine; we are tarnished with the stains of our selfishness, our shallow cravings, our racism and ...