Neighbors as Ourselves

"In this Ashram, we make it a rule that we must say 'No' when we mean 'No', regardless of consequences." - Speech on 'Ashram Vows' at the YMCA, Madras, Indian Review, February 1916, The Hindu, 16 Feb. 1916 (from The Essential Writings of Mahatma Gandhi edited by Raghavan Iyer)

My efforts at lobbying in support of the abused, neglected, and orphaned children in the state of Texas continued this morning.

After my disappointing and disheartening trip to the State Capitol last week, to talk to my local representative about the upcoming budget for these children, I wrote an email  to the representative describing my position and my experience in her office.  A return email from a staffer requested my telephone number so that she could speak with me about my experience and about the representatives support for the children of the state.  I sent my number, but included that there was no need to call.  That I did in fact understand what role the representative played in writing budgets and that the representative could still count on my support (which she can.  Her opponents have made this state last among states in spending for children.)

She called this morning.  I was polite.  I was understanding.  I was respectful.  I'm afraid that what I was not was truthful.  I'm afraid I let politeness smother the truth as I understand it.

What my representative agreed to in the budget will be a greater hardship for the children already suffering trauma.

I know that there are people in the world who would see the 'hardship' of my state as a huge step forward for their children.  Their children lack food and clean water and shelter.  Their lives are torn apart by disease and war.

I cannot reconcile these two worlds.  I wish I could.

What I can do is speak for those being injured in my neighborhood.

But I must learn to lovingly speak the harsh truth and not hide the truth behind a curtain of politeness.

The Least of These

"Every sin is a form of violence."- 'Problem of Non-Violence,' Navajivan, 6 June 1926 (from The Essential Writings of Mahatma Gandhi edited by Raghavan Iyer)

I'm a foster parent.

My state, like many states, is having sever budget issues.  Yesterday, I went to my State Capitol to rally and lobby to restore the funds cut from the proposed State Budget  for the agency that oversees abused and neglected children.  I won't bore you with the details, even if I fully understood them, but suffice it to say, that the proposed cuts would devastate a protection system that is already last in the country in helping children.

I was brushed off by my local state representative, one of the few liberals left in my state's government, and I found out that this representative was actually responsible for writing this section of the proposed budget.  She defends the budget by saying how much worse it could be.

I sat down in the halls of government and watched, and prayed, and thought.

Everything in the Capitol Building is over-sized, gilded, hand carved and covered in leather.  Twenty foot high ceilings and doors.  Marble walls, columns, statuary.  Enormous wooden door frames and stair railings.  Huge paintings of the important battles for independence.  Portraits of every Governor, many of whom have gone on to be President.  And gold and bronze gilded everything.  The place was designed for fifteen foot high humans who stride like gods through the halls.

I went out onto the grounds of the Capitol and found what the plaque said was a collection of six statues of school children created with funds donated by school children in 1993. "A Tribute to Texas School Children" the plaque was titled.  Only four of the statues were there.  The base for a fifth was still there, the sixth base was missing.

I wanted to cry.

The giants of the Texas Legislature and the school children of Texas.

"Every sin is a form of violence."

Deep Down Inside, I'm Really Very Shallow

"Everyone should follow his or her own inner voice.  If he or she has no ears to listen to it, he or she should do the best he or she can." - 'Non-Violence,' Harijan, 29 June 1947

My mother used to say about herself that 'Deep down inside, I'm really very shallow."  I've always felt that this described me.

I pray.  I meditate.  I daily seek guidance from a Higher Power.  I have a spiritual community and I am an active member.  But 'Deep down inside, I'm really very shallow.'

I won't say that I have never heard from my inner voice, but it's rare.  I, apparently, often, have 'no ears to listen.'  That's why I read Gandhi and others who do have 'ears to listen.'  That's why I have a spiritual community.  These people had and have 'ears to listen,' and I seek their wisdom and guidance.

I don't think I have to reinvent the wheel.  Better people than I have shown the way.  I can walk in their footprints.

And I don't worry about being sheep-like.  My life and experience , my personality, the place I choose to live, the things I think are important, are different from anyone and everyone else.  The way I am guided by the those who have ears, will not resemble anything anyone else has done.

I will continue to try and follow my own inner voice, but when that voice is silent or I am unable to hear, I have voices from the past who have marked the path and I have friends and companions whom I trust who help steer me back onto that path when I go astray.

I'm grateful.