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.

A Quack like Me

"The optimist lives delighting in thoughts of love and charity...The pessimist, being himself prey to violent attachments and dislikes, looks upon every person as his enemy..." - 'Optimism' (G.), Navajivan, 23 Oct 1921

My wife has told me often over the years that when ever we talk about the future, I always see the bad things that can happen and never the good, and I believe she is telling me the truth..  It is a hard thing for me to hear.

I want to believe that I am an optimist, but that is not the truth.  I live in fear.  I seem to have been that way as long as I can remember.

When I was a boy and would tell my father that I was afraid, he would look at me sternly and tell me there was nothing to be afraid of. 

My father had a difficult upbringing.  His mother was married either seven or nine times, he wasn't sure which.  At the age of sixteen, he beat up his then current step-father and went to live in the oil fields of California with his real father, working for him on his wild-cat oil rigs.  At seventeen, he joined the Navy and was in port in Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941.  His first ship was sunk there.  Two more ships he was on during the war were sunk in the Pacific.  I don't think he could ever let himself feel scared and he didn't want his son to be fearful.  But I was, and I felt like I was a failure.  I was never the son my father wanted.  He wanted a man's man.  I was far more comfortable with women.

In recent years, I have begun to accept that I am a fearful person.  I don't like it, but I have stopped trying to change this fact about myself.  It is not in my power to change.  However, what is in my power to change is how I react to my fears.

I pray for courage.