Tag Archives: politics

All is not Sweet

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All is not Sweet

Yesterday’s violence at the US Capitol saddens me. My last post was for Old Glory. That glory, has it faded, or are we jaded? Listen to one side, it sounds right. Then, the other. Activists with hearts for the downtrodden. Intellectuals with Harvard degrees. High or low, black or white–or pink or yellow, rich or poor, gay or straight, how easily we can slip into judging others as if we knew for sure.

As I reflect upon the last decade or two of political polarization, my grievous thoughts took me back to high school. It was the 1970’s. Richard Nixon shook his jowls and held up a peace sign. The word IMPEACHED splayed across the headlines. Visions of nuclear holocaust fueled my steps to school and George Orwell’s 1984 was our dreaded future. My favorite poem was by Ben Jonson. It went like this:

Still to be neat, still to be dressed,
As you were going to a feast;
Still to be powdered, still perfumed; 
Lady, it is to be presumed,
Though art’s hid causes are not found,
All is not sweet, all is not sound.

Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace;
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free;
Such sweet neglect more taketh me
                       Than all th’adulteries of art. 
They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.

In all my teen and adult life, I’ve never known exactly who or what to believe. Action, inaction, which is worse? Talk? Lies? Manipulation? Who knows? So, I believe nothing but my gut, as I look in your eyes, and see your actions. Time will tell the rest.

Political lies and unrest striketh not mine eyes nor my heart, folks.

Truth is between us. Not out there.

I’ll still salute this country, its freedom values at core. I’ll still salute you, no matter how we differ. Not because I’m a blind follower, but because I stand for love. Because I value simplicity as a grace.

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Drop Your Mask?

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Drop Your Mask?

The US is buzzing with political opinion, judgments, and even mud-slinging about masks. Wear it. Drop it. It’s gotten so bad here that folks can almost tell if you’re republican or democrat based on whether or not you’re wearing a mask.

Scientific opinion seems to change every time we open a search page.

All this talk about masks leads me to think about the other kind of mask.

After all, there are two types of masks.

One is tangible, designed to provide a physical barrier to block the spread of illness. By now, you probably have one of this type to color-coordinate with your daily outfit, and another that’s silly or funny. These masks are designed to block airborne illness from you to others. It’s really only the highest medical quality (N-95) mask that works to block the virus from reaching your lungs.

The other type of mask is intangible. It’s an invisible one. Maybe you’re not even aware you have one of these. It’s also known as a facade. We wear invisible masks all the time, without even thinking about it. We wear our invisible masks to block the undesirable effects of truth.

Smile. Agree.

“How are you?” . . . “I’m fine.”

Conditioned as children to behave properly, we learned to dampen or conceal our natural responses. That’s not entirely a bad thing. If we didn’t hold back much of what pops into our thoughts and emotions, chaos would reign.

Relating to others through our facades might in some way protect us, but there are side effects.

Some effects are mild, like not getting our true feelings out and ending up with the need to find a release. Some can be more disruptive, like becoming ineffective at honest relationships, leading to poor job performance or even divorce. More severe side effects of living behind a facade can be grave, like becoming completely dissociated from your true self, or becoming so isolated and lonely that life loses its meaning and joy.

So what do we do about this? Do we just drop our masks?

I recall a time when I wanted to completely drop my facade of being “fine” all the time. I wanted to pursue my ideal of living a fully authentic life. I soon discovered (yep, the hard way) that most folks don’t feel comfortable with this level of honesty.

Imagine! Can you say ostracized? Distanced? Rejected? Maybe even persecuted?

Lesson Learned: There are times and places where it is safer to wear a mask. That invisible mask protects us—and others—from harmful vitriol.

It’s okay to make determinations for ourselves about where and with whom we choose to drop our masks.

There are safe places to drop your mask. There are people and times where you can safely lower your invisible mask without causing hurt or being hurt in return.

And if the situation changes, it’s also okay to change that decision and slip your mask back up for a while.

We can be authentic, honest and open people without necessarily spilling our guts all over the place.

How about you? What have you learned about wearing or dropping your facade?

Heart to Heart,

Joan T. Warren

Oh, and kudos to Jason Youngman, whose blog post “Jason Without His Mask” sparked my ideas for today’s post. Check his blog out here:

https://metaphysicaldiscourse.wordpress.com

Embracing Diversity

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Embracing Diversity

As we approach election day in the USA, this previous post from 2017 seems especially relevant. Click on the link below and please, weigh in with your comments.

For those of us who don’t like poems, I’ve copied and pasted a paragraph of reflection from that post beneath the link.

Let’s keep our focus where it should be, on loving one another.

https://joantwarren.com/2017/02/07/diversity/

May we care for our planet, and may we care for each other: Republican and Democrat, Independent, Green, Black, Blue, Whatever. May we care for each other whether behind walls or by reaching out. May we care for each other whether we feel a need to set personal boundaries and draw lines or whether we feel we’ve been ostracized, abused or neglected by someone’s boundaries or lines. May we care for each other whether worried about losing rights for equality and choice or to bear arms. May we care for each other whether we trace our ancestral culture to Isaac or Ishmael, to Sitting Bull, Dalai Lama, Peter the Great or Henry the 8th. May we do so without having to face a common foe threatening our existence, forcing us to pull together to fight it. May we care for each other, period.

May we care, lovingly.

Joan T. Warren

Oh! I just found an ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL video from Ireland that flows perfectly with the diversity poem you just read. Jump over to youtube with this link and soak it in!

Wes Grierson

Diversity

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it burst forth from rock, high in the mountains-

its journey before unseen.

now resplendent with light, with movement,

wind catching droplets,

splaying into sky

in joyful play.

then down.

down the jagged crests,

tracing o’er all crevices,

round mossy stones,

in grand descent,

trusting powers drawing its way.

to go, where least resistance begs,

unrelenting,

e’re to make its journey

as it may.

til when upon a jutting cliff,

a solid mass,

blockade,

its forces split.

“Which way?”

the stream,

it wonders,

droplets crash and turn in wild careen,

hesitating here in brief,

then to choose.

or be chosen.

diverse paths-

bifurcating,

two where once was one.

Yet on, no stopping,

naught to bring them back,

or time to pause in retrospection.

down, they travel, each its separate way.

the two,

now different,

lost to what once was.

yet

both-

still valuable with richness unsurpassed.

both-

bringing life and nourishment to all they touch.

both-

essentially the same, though drawn in diverse ways.

until at last

they reach the sea.

again

the two are one

in unity.

the world,

enfolded,

molded,

cleansed and moistened-

life

entrusted

here

so lovingly.

image

-Joan T Warren

This free-style prose flowed from my mind and fingertips tonight as thoughts I’ve been pondering for months–thoughts of sadness and turmoil over our polarization as a country, which is torn between left and right political views and personalities, thoughts of the hope for unity and love rising up, embracing diversity, thoughts of value and respect for all living things, born and unborn, bound and free, rich and poor, faithful and disdainful, wild and tame–all came together in the imagery of the water cycle, in what I perceive to be a love-gift from our maker.

May we care for our planet, and may we care for each other: Republican and Democrat, Independent, Green, Black, Blue, Whatever. May we care for each other whether behind walls or by reaching out. May we care for each other whether we feel a need to set personal boundaries and draw lines or whether we feel we’ve been ostracized, abused or neglected by someone’s boundaries or lines. May we care for each other whether worried about losing rights for equality and choice or to bear arms. May we care for each other whether we trace our ancestral culture to Isaac or Ishmael, to Sitting Bull, Dalai Lama, Peter the Great or Henry the 8th. May we do so without having to face a common foe threatening our existence, forcing us to pull together to fight it. May we care for each other, period.

May we care, lovingly.

Daily Prompt: Lovingly

Compassion: Left and Right

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Marge lay exhausted at the end of a long day, her eyes puffy from too many tears. It has been an emotional day for her. As she lay on the sofa catching a quick break, an ear out for when her son’s trach needs suctioning, she becomes acutely aware that Read the rest of this entry

Political Correctness: Mean Girls in Charge?

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Is political correctness a useful concept, or does it stifle honest discussion? This, the question posed by WordPress’ Daily Prompt. For my take on this prompt, I will stretch an analogy as far as I can:

Political correctness is the group of mean girls at school. They are beautiful. They are cool. They set the standard of what is fashionable versus what is ridiculously out. They look down their noses at all those who are too stupid, ugly, poor or otherwise inadequate to be a part of their high status. Read the rest of this entry

MWF Seeks True Unbiased Journalism

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What happened to real news reporting?

When I was a kid I didn’t want news. When dad would come home and switch off my beloved fake family, The Brady Bunch, to turn on scenes of carnage with the daily body count from the Vietnam war, I groaned, complained and left the room. I didn’t want to know about horrible things. News broke my heart and worried me. I didn’t understand it. My earliest recollection of the news contains scenes of President Kennedy being shot, adults around me crying, little Caroline and Teddy standing at the big box with the flag draped over it.
I’m not a kid anymore (haven’t been for quite some time now). Read the rest of this entry