Friday, December 20, 2013

Well, I will be a monkey's uncle

There is is hopping big news story that North Korean Leader Kim Jong-un Executed His 'Worse Than a Dog' Uncle, it reminds me of a family story about the Zacachichimeca. The Zacachichimeca were a tribe in Mexico that were nomadic raiders and whose name has loosely translated into the lowest of the dog people... at least to the Aztecs who conquered them and spilled their blood and made them slaves of sorts. 

I think that the name for the Zacachichimenca and for the recently executed uncle  is an interesting thing... namely the use of the word dog as a pejorative.

I have always been intrigued by the almost cross-cultural use of the word in this way. The thing is, most of the world does something like this with one word or another.

Once I called a friend a worm, with the intent being more in the glory of the being but they took great offense. While I maintained (to their disbelief) that it was well intentioned the truth was that it was not a term that spoke to them in a way they understood. I assume they got over it.

But, as a species that loves hierarchy it is interesting to ponder what thing a culture can perceive to be as low enough to be an insult.

"I still love the people I've loved, even if I cross the street to avoid them."
~ Uma Thurman

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Reflections on acrimony and the circle of love

Today a friend shared this post, which lead me to read this one.

I was struck by the ideas, not because I consider myself an angry person (I am usually quite the opposite) but for what these thoughts mean for someone who lives with the focus of anger. Yes, labels are really awful, especially when they are not given with a charitable mind. I root for the underdog so when I see people rallying against some real or perceived injustice, I tend to call them on it. People don't like that and they tend to get angrier or more upset.  That is a part of the human condition. We want our worlds to be peaceful streams of consciousness. And in my times of anger, I fight against that like mad. Unless, of course, the principal object is to be the proverbial devils advocate (which can be cruel, and unfair because you don't do that to friends, it is not gentle).

However, I am generally not an angry person. I have learned to vent and let my thinking processes run me through the gamut of emotions entailed therein. There are exceptions, but they are able to be counted on one hand with fingers left over.
“Anybody can become angry - that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not within everybody's power and is not easy.”
~ Aristotle
See, the one thing that I have learnt is that anger comes from fear.  And fear is not an ideal thing, it produces a stress response, it can cause delusions, it creates anger, it starts up the flight or flight response... which are fine and dandy if you are being chased by a predator, but not if you are navigating a world you want to be filled with gentleness. Angry people are averse to gentleness, and I think that I can say that based on how I can be towards those who anger me. I am not gentle, I can be cruel, I fight them, and ridicule them. I admit that this response of mine most likely comes from a place of fear. I venture to guess that they cause me to feel vulnerable, and I may not trust them to take care of me there. Or I think they are crazy and need to be put on medication.
“Most hatred is based on fear, one way or another. Yeah. I wrapped myself in anger, with a dash of hate, and at the bottom of it all was an icy center of pure terror.”
~ Laurell K. Hamilton, Guilty Pleasures
The one thing that I have noticed with angry people is that they tend to find comfort in being a victim or feeling victimized. Such comfort that it must become addictive, I would guess. The thing that struck me in the second link above was that the author was searching for the naivete that she had when she was younger and, I am guessing, the world seemed so much more open and the shades that were not black or white were making themselves known and it was exciting and waiting to be discovered. I have had those same feelings, though I call that wish to return to that time as searching for a state of grace.
“It is wise to direct your anger towards problems - not people; to focus your energies on answers - not excuses.”
~ William Arthur Ward
But, anger is not a state of grace. It is almost its opposite. And because it is such a destructive force, theologians (I am sure) included it in its pantheon of the most vile of human behaviours... yes, it is built in to the ideas that gave us the more modern notions of the deadly sins... and were thankfully complemented by the seven virtues.
“How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it.”
~ Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
Another thought on anger that I have is that is inflamed by cowardice. When I hear that someone is angry at me, I try to confront the issue and manage it accordingly. However, there are folks out there that are such that they refuse, they set up specifications that are almost impossible to arrange, or cancel (repeatedly) appointments made at my request to discuss things. In the face of these, I have to find that they are cowardly and that they are living in such desperate fear that they are incapable of listening to the other side of the story, or even of allowing me to hear theirs... selfishness?
“The fiercest anger of all, the most incurable,
Is that which rages in the place of dearest love.”
~ Euripides, Medea and Other Plays 
How sad to be that angry, I can't think of a single person that I would not give the opportunity to should it be requested of me... but to live in that kind of anger, just breaks my heart because I might venture that, as Euripides suggests, the anger is taking up the space that could be occupied by love. Even for others that might not be the source of the anger. My mother often reminds me when I rail at anything, why waste your energy on that when there is so much else you could spend your energy on.


“Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything - anger, anxiety, or possessions - we cannot be free.”
~ Thích Nhất Hạnh, The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching: Transforming Suffering into Peace, Joy, and Liberation
So, there is letting go. What does that mean? Is there any one answer? Is it an easy step? is it a process? I think it is all of those. One of the things most people don't understand is how I came to peace with my father. After all, I railed enough that I changed my name (something I still would not change if I could do something over)... my answer, and it is often completely misunderstood is that I let go. I let go of the anger and resentment (not that they don't raise their ugly head on occasion, but I am aware and I try to curb it) and focused on what was between us. I would not call myself close to him, but I try to read through the actions to find the languages he uses to communicate with others. In the process, I have learned so much... and mostly because my mother made me...
“Anger, resentment and jealousy doesn't change the heart of others-- it only changes yours.”
~ Shannon L. Alder, 300 Questions to Ask Your Parents Before It's Too Late 




 So where did I learn to try to manage my anger? My mother, who has had enough chaos in her life that if she were the most bitter and angry person on earth I would think it was with good reason. My mother, whenever I would have fits of anger at my father or any other perceived injustice would gently say to me:
“He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic , rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him In!
~ Edwin Markham, From the poem " Outwitted”
Now, I can say that being angry is easy, drawing that circle of love... that's hard! Another lesson I learned at my mothers wise and gentle side. How lucky I am to have her as a guide.

NaBloPoMo 30 (I did it!)

Friday, November 29, 2013

Manifesting my illuminated ancestors

When we illuminate the road back to our ancestors, they have a way of reaching out, of manifesting themselves...sometimes even physically   
~ Raquel Cepeda

Today we went, as an extended family, to visit the grave-sites of our most distant local ancestors.


While I am sickly and tired and exhausted I am so glad I did. I love trudging around the huge cemetery looking for my ancestors. 

I love wondering if there will ever be the mystery flowers  put on my great grandmothers grave again. The story is that she was well liked by a former politician (mayor or governor?) and that flowers were placed there well into the 80's. I know she was a tremendous force in the burgeoning days of Phoenix, she had "the sight", was a well respected dressmaker, and even supposedly sold Winnie Ruth Judd the ticket to California... of all the ones I have heard about, it is her that I would love to have met. Though not at the expense of the others, she just sounds like she must have been a wonderful person in a way that I could relate to. She was my maternal great-grandmother... and her grand-daughters (my mom and aunt) recall her most fondly.

I look at so many different things; the differences in headstones (an indication of those who had and those who had not as much), the direction their headstones face... The old cemetery is always such a journey of stories, so it was especially wonderful to have my mom there with us today... telling all of us stories as we sent the young ones off to find the different grave-sites from our map, watching them run around the headstones asking if one or the other had found it yet...

One thing struck me today, as we were driving out... was that I noticed a group of headstones, decorated with ribbons, balloons, potted plants, stuffed animals... and all of them had Hispanic surnames. 

So, I talked with my family about this observation, nothing which really surprised any of us but did lead me to ask "when did "white, non-hispanics" get so bad at veneration of the dead?"

For the record, the picture above is a before, we placed a poinsettia with all sorts of holiday baubles and glitter at each of the sites... my family is just a hair shy of adding a stuffed animal to our ancestral graves. I love that about us.
We're all ghosts. We all carry, inside us, people who came before us.
~ Liam Callanan
NaBloPoMo 29

Thursday, November 28, 2013

A thankful strain


“Our rural ancestors, with little blest,
Patient of labor when the end was rest,
Indulged the day that housed their annual grain,
With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.”
~ Alexander Pope, Imitations of Horace 

NaBloPoMo 28

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Habemus Papam

I have never made a secret that my life was greatly formed by liberation theology.

As a child who was a deeply religious seeker (still am, though the nature of the seeking has changed a bit), I was awed by the Church that I witnessed serve the people in South America. It was a Church that was still evolving away from the pre-Vatican I rituals to the ones that were intended by the council... so, I witnessed a lot of Latin, covered heads, churches that had not yet lost the adornments (of ostentation?) that I would postulate that they shouldn't in this part of the world, many of these cathedrals were built with the blood, sweat and tears of the natives during conquest and they were allowed to put in their own touches... one of my favorite cathedrals in Quito is painted with red ocher paint (and tons of gold), an unusual color for the walls of a a Church. The Jesuits had the most lasting influence, in part because I think they were the most willing of orders to manage the New World and its intricacies.  Like the Inca rise and conquest they managed to influence the most striking behaviors of the natives through adaptation... a rather ingenious way to be able to govern a conquered group. It was not without its own evils and problems, but there were some amazing things that came out this (movements to end slavery came out of the clergy serving South America)

Our new pope embodies that whole idea, and has dramatic sparks of the liberation theology that I grew up with. I know this kind of thinking is not without its problems, but the compassion behind the ideals has always deeply appealed to me. I am humbled by the return to true service. I am excited for the church, it feels familiar again (it hasn't felt familiar since I arrived in the USA). I read his interviews with atheists and things like this story and I feel moved and so very excited for what could come from this kind of religious leadership.


NaBloPoMo 27