Back where I am from there is a saying “She’s a ‘Beaut, Isn’t She?” (Pronounced “Byoot”) Translated out of Midwestern or Southern dialect, one might say, “That is very Beautiful” or “She is a Beauty”. Calling something a “beaut”. is often used when referring to a new purchase like a car, or a baby crib, or a cow. There is another saying that may have come to some minds when they read my title, another “B” word that we often link to Karma. It is a word which, as a woman, I dislike intensely and try never to utter. But then also, I have come to connect Karma not with the idea that many Westerners do, which is a type of justice or just deserts (pronounced as in “desserts” with two s’s although spelled with one “s”). Karma is the idea that every action — good, bad, and neutral — have logical and unerringly correct consequences. It goes along with the other spiritual teachings and all true historical worldviews, and along the lines of “Do good and good will come to you”; “You reap what you sow”; poetic justice and just deserts; and so forth. “True Truth, Karma is”, (said in the voice of that wise one called Yoda). Then there is the karmic connection that one can not help but come to mind when I have seen the latest news and social media hype about a person who died last week, and that karmic saying really often does feel like it deserves the other “B” word: “you live by the sword, and you will die by the sword”. Or in America, translated as, “You preached that everyone should be allowed to own and use a gun whenever and however and now you have been killed by a gun that someone had the freedom to use because of people like you.” Karma is often, indeed, if not the “B-word”, oh, so situationally ironic.
I know there are people who are sad about the death of this man who was killed by a gun. In this country, as perhaps in many Western countries, there are several problems surrounding this. The first is that we deny the fact of death and the very real reality that everyone is going to die. So we are just super-duper shocked when someone actually dies. And what with the uber hype of social media and the talking heads that claim they are giving us “news” (Definition of “news” according to the dictionary: newly received or noteworthy information, especially about recent or important events.) Hence, I try these days to skim headlines, just to make sure I don’t have to pack my car for the next SoCal fire or to inform myself on what I might expect to find (or not find) at my local grocery, and I move on to more important things — like reruns of “Columbo” on Netflix. Otherwise I can lose whole decades and globs of hair I tear out obsessing about the latest machinations and tweets of crazy people.
The second thing that social media does to skew our view is to make us feel we “know” people that we don’t actually know. I am very glad I never knew anything about — not even the name — of this man that was killed by a gun this past week. He is possibly rolling in his grave to hear that, but there it is. I try my darnedest to spend my valuable and rapidly running out days left on this earth reading about people past and present who matter and who share or increase my understanding of what I, as a little human being, have been called to do (or not do) while I exist as matter on this earth so that in some way, I might matter — not because I am great or famous but because I love. And I believe one thing when I can’t seem to believe anything else, and that is that Love never dies. Love is in some way, some how — Eternal. I am old-fashioned enough to believe that every one, whether they know it or not, lives according to a WORLD- VIEW. I believe my greatest task left to me is to walk that so-called, “narrow path”, The Trustful, Truthful Way, the Tao — and to try my best to stop doing harm, to spread light and love, and to find the peace that passes my current understanding, with trust that God is Good, and that no matter how many times the Earth is destroyed or we destroy it, that Life, and True Life will keep regenerating from our ashes.
Thirdly, there are so many people in this country, and maybe the world, who have no idea what sorrow is and how to grieve. In fact, we deny being sad (we are depressed); we deny grieving (“mama is in heaven now so be happy”); and we deny the fact that we have allowed violence and injustice to thrive in this nation in the name of some idiotic idea that it means we have freedom. In fact, in America, we have taken the word and idea of “freedom”, and made it into a prison of selfish individualism in a nation that cares nothing for its citizens but only for the illusory chimera of wealth for the few and the “bread and circus” promises of winning the lottery for the majority.
Now I am, after having read more headlines about this man who was killed this past week, actually very, very glad I had no idea who he was until recently and that I have no history with ever hearing any thing that came out of his mouth. And please, can we be clear? This man was not “assassinated” like people who were actually killed for speaking up about justice or racial inequity, like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. This man was not a martyr for his ideals, like Ghandi. This man was murdered by someone who was simply exercising his Second Amendment rights — according to the man who was killed. Do I rejoice in his death? Absolutely not. But not because of him, but because, as that beautiful Christian poet, John Donne, who suffered and sorrowed much, especially over the death of his young son, I believe that “every death diminishes me”. However, do I think this man’s death warrants the hoopla surrounding it. Nope. So, stop reading here if this offends somehow your sensibilities or if you feel that not faking sorrow for a man who did not live in goodness or love for others is a bad thing.
I will tell you about a few of the people that I do not know that I actually do mourn. I mourn the twenty INNOCENT children and six teachers who were murdered at Sandy Hook. (Those children didn’t know that a crazy man was just exercising his Second Amendment rights.) I mourn the deaths of the fourteen students and three staff members killed at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. (I once lost a job at a Christian school, in part because I allowed my class to participate in the six minutes and twenty seconds of silence for the first “March for Our Lives” national movement day. Long after the scars have healed over, the irony still catches my breath.) I mourn the wives and mothers killed by gun violence in their own homes because their spouse or partner is allowed to keep a weapon despite the fact he is a known domestic abuser. I mourn Trayvon Martin and George Floyd; I mourn Matthew Shephard and Harvey Milk; and already and still — despite the fact it is not the current hot news du jour, I mourn the twenty-nine deaths and sixty serious injuries from school (SCHOOL!!!!) shootings in America in 2025 so far. (When did we stop being shocked by school shootings? That must be the day the soul of America truly died.) And if you get me started on some parts of the rest of the world where children are left to starve and innocent civilians are killed, I will probably implode with disbelief and sorrow to the point I will never stop mourning. “Every death diminishes me”, but the death of innocent children and the death of the innocent reduces me to a pool of sorrow.
Eckhart Tolle has helped me see the current state of many countries in the world, and especially my own nation of the, now seemingly ironically named, “United” States of America. Remember the Corona Virus (for those of you who still believe in science)? Well, we currently have, as Tolle brilliantly sees, a serious mental virus. I would, along with Jesus, be so bold as to call it a spiritual virus as well. That is the only way to explain the absolute insanity of what our government (and others); and some non-government leaders (like those in churches or synagogues or schools); and some random, known and unknown, citizens are believing and “preaching” and doing. It is — no other word for it — INSANE INSANITY. And just as Germany woke up after years of murdering innocent people and labeling people as less than human during the fascist regime of the past (not the current ones). And just as the nation I have loved and long lived in, woke up after we burned women for being witches at the stake because they were strong and outspoken and healers; and woke up after we stole human beings from their land to use as slaves, deeming them less “human” than we were because of their color; and just as we woke up after realizing that women were smart enough to vote and have their own money and property — we might still wake up in time. We might wake up from this horrible nightmare of our own creation in time to save our nation. We might even wake up in time to save other parts of our world, as America has often rallied and risen-up to do. We may even have the guts and righteous reasoning to save our planet.
But we may not.
And with each passing, fearful day, I begin to think perhaps this Insanity Virus, that so many in my country seem to have been infected with, will not be recognized in time and that we will not have the strength or the truthfulness to diagnosis the real problem we have and to turn to the Healers and the Helpers.
And it is, I regret to point out, in great part because we keep breathing in the toxic fumes of people like the man who was murdered this past week. And of course, we keep sucking in the nuclear waste of the supposed leaders who react and mourn this guy who died but not the actual recent assassination of Minnesota Representative Melissa Hotrman.
And we keep denying we have become sick to the point of spiritual death by caring more for what we have (or think we once had) than what we are called to BE. And we think somehow there is not enough to go around, when there is plenty if we are willing to share. And we believe in some future “good” when what we need to do is believe the Truthful Ones, like Jesus, who said, “The Reality of Heaven is NOW, not Then and not Someday. Live Light now, for you are the Light of Awareness and Truth and Love”. And if we lived that way, then we really wouldn’t have to fear death. We could mourn the loss of those who die without losing the sense that as individuals we are impermanent but when we live together in Oneness as part of The One, then death is simply transformation.
When I was in high school, I memorized some scriptures whose meaning has morphed as I have aged and has definitely morphed since I began to see my nation, my world, and myself in different ways. The shock of 2015 for me was that any one who claimed to know or want to know Jesus, the Christ, could ever catch the insanity virus. I thought the “Jesus-Worldview” would make any one immune to worshiping hatred and greed and lies. But as I saw people worship not the Golden Calf of the ancient Hebrews but the Golden Pig(s) of this Uber-Capitalistic Oligarchy, masquerading as supporters of “democracy” and as I witnessed people who would never say a swear word, blaspheming the name of God with their misrepresentation of what we have been told about The Way, and corrupting the ideas of the Judeo-Christian belief system — I realized — people really can go crazy without realizing it. People really have gone insane and I can not imagine they realize they have caught a deadly mental disease. “What does it profit a person if they gain the world (or the Congress or the White House) and lose their soul?”
So here are some things that continue to help me and why I don’t mourn some individual man who spread the Gospel of Hate and whose name will be forgotten in a few years, if not a few weeks. Here are my musings and my meditations on Galatians 2: 20,21)
“I am crucified with Christ”, (that is I die to ego and selfishness and greed and prejudice — and all those things that make me a prisoner of hate and fear) and I am crucified in the way Jesus accepted the reality of suffering and even death and I accept all suffering as crucibles and ultimately the way to Rebirth and Resurrection. “Nevertheless, I live, yet not I but Christ lives in me”, (I seek to know my true “Beingness”, my Soul, my Deep Self that Jesus knew and that God gives all who embrace the “holy spirit”; I seek to live in the Spirit which overcomes not only evil, but also overcomes death. So, when I die to ego and hate and greed and fear, I truly find Eternal Life.) “And the Life which I now live in the flesh, (while I still have a body and still have “stuff”), “I live through the faith of the Son of God” (I trust that I am, as Jesus was and is in a new form, a beloved Child of God), (and so are you, and you, and you, and you and yes, so is even that man who died by a gun and those men and women who are frantically and selfishly intent on destroying our world — we are all beloved children of God) (And so, there has only been and will always be only one Real Reality — and that is Love). (Jane’s current paraphrase of Galatians 2: 20–21)
I will share with you this paraphrased prayer, because I just don’t know what else to say to give you hope, except: May the peace which passes understanding, give you strength to keep fighting and to keep sorrowing and to keep loving to the End of Time and then Beyond Time.
So yes…. Karma is indeed a ‘beaut. Because just as the followers of Jesus wrote, quoted above (albeit in Jane “strange-speak” language), the amazing, wonderous, awesome thing about being a human BEING is that we can, if we choose to, elect to change our overall karmic arc. There are just so many examples of those who have changed their karma — the trajectory of their lives — through one intentionally good action at a time — So many little and great human beings have changed the moral/ karmic arc of their own lives and of history, that the pages in The Good Book can not hold all their names. “We can not all do great things, but we can all do small things with great love”, as that Good Karma Saint, Teresa taught us. And maybe, just maybe, if each one of us allows the Light of Love and Truth and Trust and Hope, to shine through our dense selves, then we will Light a path for those who choose darkness over light, those “blind guides” who choose to lead with hate and fear rather than love and faith. As the children’s song says, “This little light of mine. I’m gonna’ let it shine. Won’t let Satan blow it out — No! I’m gonna’ let it shine”. God willin’ and the creek don’t rise, I will.
I went to a funny little concert a few weeks ago, outside in a big park here in SoCal (SoCal — epicenter of the war waged from afar on justice and kindness). And at the last song of the concert, everyone got out their cell phones and turned on their flashlights and waved them around. Back in the day, we all had lighters to do that, even if we didn’t smoke, and the symbol of a little blaze of fire waving around in one’s teenaged hand was a more complete metaphor back then because of, well, fire. But still, at my recent concert, as you looked around and back and in front and on the overhead screens, you saw a vast ocean of waving lights. All it took, was for this one person to bring the light, and then that one person to bring the light, and then that one, and that one, and that one…. Fear not, my friend and stay strong. And Bring the Light.
You are the “Light of the World”. Let your Light so shine before all human beings, and someday, when you are “going towards the Light”, in those final moments, well, we don’t know what happens next, not really, but if we “do not walk in darkness, we will (for certain) have in hope and in fact, the Light of Eternal Life”. The Great Teachers have pinky promised us that; and I am going to trust them on that promise. One precious moment at a time.
I used to play this game with my students. Over the years I taught elementary, middle school, high school, and college. I have to say, my favorite might have been the ones other teachers seemed to struggle with and that was the middle-schoolers. Sure, they were squirrely, but they knew they didn’t know everything and most of them still thought learning was the purpose of school, not whether they would get into a good college or get a high-paying job some day. And they still saw the value of playing and using their imaginations. But regardless, no matter the age of the students, I would ask them to think of what they believed to be the worst problem in the world, the thing that if they were king or queen for a day, they would require all world citizens to do or not do. And if this role of being the world’s ruler was combined with one Super Power, a magic, god-like power, how would they use that power to ensure that this Great Big Worldwide No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Problem was solved, eradicated? (And yes, I had to define the word “eradicated” for even the college kids.) Eventually, this became one of my classes’ favorite writing assignments.
So, “Kids” of the World:
1. Take out a piece of paper. In the first paragraph, either bullet point or draw a picture, or write a paragraph (or two), or do a mind-map of what you believe to be the world’s greatest problem. Is it not enough food and hunger? Diminishing resources like water? Violence and too many weapons? Nuclear bombs? Not enough places to live? Political unrest? War? Write that down in detail.
2. Now in the next section, write down what you think the human motivation is that causes this world-wide problem. Is it greed? Prejudice? Religious intolerance? Racism? Stupidity? Anger? Hatred? Fear?
3. Now… Remember you are the Ruler of the World. You have an ultimate Super Power to change every thing that causes this one, biggest human ill. What do you do? What is your Super Power? How do you fix the world’s biggest problem?
I still mentally play this game sometimes. As my mind gets mired down in the many problems of the world, which seem to exponentially grow daily, if not minute by minute, I think to myself, “If only…..” And I am not talking only about the problems “out there” — the greedy, evil rulers and titans of capital that so many countries and people seem to inexplicably worship today, believing that somehow bad people can enact good for others. (Side note: Not a single leader of any religion or spiritual program has ever taught that the ends justify the means. Not one. And if you claim to be a Jesus follower, then he taught exactly the opposite. The means are all that matter. The end is not in your hands just as they were not in Christ’s hands. They are in God’s Hands. Just sayin’.) Okay, so back to the main topic of problems and Super Powers. I am not just talking about the big world problems, I am talking about the “where we live on a day-to-day basis problems”. I am talking about the people who drive their cars as if they are the only people in the world, ignoring rules because they never get caught. You know the ones — you are crossing in a crosswalk and they don’t stop, speeding through, looking straight ahead since if they don’t look at you, you can pretend with them that they don’t see you and didn’t almost just hit you. When I say the problems of this world, I am talking about the people who drop trash on the sidewalks in the town where you live — it’s not their yard after all. I am talking about the people who just seem to go through life spoiling for a fight, lurking in the grocery line for someone to snap at, eating at the restaurant and hoping something isn’t right so they can complain to the waiter, or slamming down the phone on the receptionist on the other end. (If it’s a real person that is — it is totally understandable if you slam the phone on some AI robotic phone voice. In fact, I would almost say it is required if we are going to defeat the Trojan horses of these AI robots.). I am talking about the real-life angerings or irritating problems of the bosses who think only of their paycheck and not yours; the coworkers that gossip at the watercooler, the neighbors who blow their leaves into your yard or just never say “hello”. So day after day, or minute after minute, my mind swirls with the negative energy that seems to, like horror-movie zombies, feed on the human brain these days, wasting away the precious “Only-Nowness” of Life. And I come back more often to the game: If I were Queen of the World, if I had a Super Power…
*
I used to think that if I had a super power, I would focus on ending all violence. As queen, I would destroy all weapons. Gun rights, my patootie. No more bombs, no more guns, no more weapons of any kind. My college kids would rather smugly point out, “Well, Mrs. Tawel, what about kitchen knives? How will people cut their food without knives? Knives are used as weapons.” I wanted to flunk those kids, but as queen of the world, I was much wiser than I normally am, so I conceded their point. Hmmm…. What about knives? It’s tough being Queen of the world, even with super powers.
So, my next super power and act as ruler of the whole world, was to magically build homes for everyone in the world and to end homelessness. But this didn’t solve the hunger problem, or the job problem, or the water problem. I thought maybe the best way to use my ultimate power would be to clean up the environment — no more fossil fuels, no more trash, no more dirty rivers or plastic in oceans. But how to solve the ice berg issue or the endangered species problem — I was Queen, but I wasn’t God, for God’s sake!
And on and on my imagination went and at each wonderful idea about how to make the world a better place, I ended up in a dead end of problems multiplying and piling up like giant roadblocks to my great and amazing ideas of how to rule the world and use my super power to fix The Biggest Problem. And all that was left to say was… ugh.
*
In the early dawns, I run through my small-ish town nestled in the burbs of my gigantic, big sprawling city and not a morning goes by that some driver almost hits me. Now let me explain, I really, really, really do not want to be hit by a car (or truck, or electric bike). So, I not only wear a neon yellow or neon orange shirt, I have seven — 7!! — blinking white, red and blue lights (nod to the American flag is completely coincidental) and these lights are arrayed across my body, front and back. I look so dweeby and hilarious, but I WANT TO BE SEEN AND NOT HIT BY A CAR. (Besides at my age, no one looks at you any more let alone cares how you look.) However, blinking lights and neon clothing aside, you would be amazed, but almost every single morning a driver just doesn’t LOOK! They do not, as required by law, look left and right or even sometimes straight ahead but charge through the intersection. Or they see me, I know they see me, but the driver PRETENDS NOT TO SEE ME. I am a lit-up Christmas tree all year long, so I know you see me, madam, dude, pal. In case my ALL CAPS are not clue enough, this drives me insane. And yes — I can tell you, what the feelings are behind my reaction — anger and fear. I don’t want to die at the hands of reckless driver. I am angry at their selfishness. I am fearful that someday I won’t stop in time and they will crush my little human body with their big machine. I am a slow runner, lit up like a Carnival cruise line ship in the dark night ocean, and there is nothing else I can do really, to say, like the little Who’s in Whoville, “I am here. I am here. I am here.” Yet, still, they seem to think because they are in a machine, that they have no mind — they are just a machine. Do I think they are stupid? Yep. Do I think they are mean? Yep. Do I think to myself, “oh, if there were some way I could get revenge or teach them a lesson”? Yep. But then I think, maybe I need more lights……
*
The other early morning, out for my jog, I turned off my earbuds and music when I got to the big wide city park trail I run to, and as is my habit lately, I communed with the trees, and early birds catching the worms, and also my fellow travelers. The same folks are usually out on the trail at 5:00 a.m. We are the very early morning people. Over the years, some of us have briefly exchanged names or news. Many of us know each other by sight only — “there’s pretty quiet girl with the shy smile”; “there’s the Japanese woman with her little white dog who had her arm in a cast that one month”; “there’s the professor-looking dude”; “there’s the couple who always walk with their coffee”; there’s the gaggle of women friends who walk and always have something cheery to call out at me”. I know Paige, and Jose, and Rich and Pastor George, Melba, and Patrick and his dog, Sammi. And I? I am the lady with the lights who says, “Hey, hey”. I am “Hey-hey Woman” With the Many Lights. In my mind, it is sort of my Native Name — I am “Hey-Hey Many Light Woman”.
And the other early morning, I thought a couple of things and one was negative and very sad, and one was positive and very joyful.
On the trail there are a few places where there are roads that intersect the trail and where cars come out of neighborhoods to catch the streets or freeways to their work. Now, there is no way in the world, these people do not know that people are on the trail. There are big yellow “Pedestrian Crossing” plastic thingys and bright crosswalk markings but nonetheless, the car drivers very often pretend they are the only living thing in the world, and that you do not exist. I guess they are so used to NOT hitting and killing someone that they just assume it will never happen. And the negative thing I thought the last time I was almost hit was, “these people are not human”. (My husband blames it on our current U.S. administration that is surely not human, but I always say, no, it’s the other way around, non-human’s elect their non-human counterparts to lead them. It’s an ongoing discussion in the works.) But on this particular morning, I took a deep breath and then I saw a couple little yellow-breasted birds sitting together on a branch, and up ahead I saw a couple coyotes loping across the grey-morning horizon and I just felt their love for each other as the coyotes protected each other, and the birds breakfasted together. I thought, why can’t we humans be more like the animals? I angrily and sadly thought to myself that it isn’t just that people have lost their humanity, they are not even animals anymore. Even animals take care of their kind. Sometimes, I look at the humans running this world, or the humans running their cars, and I think, we humans have devolved to something less than the animals. How sad is that?
*
Then I saw shy pretty girl, and she smiled and said, “have a great day”. And I saw the man with the little ratty looking dog and the Dodgers sweatshirt, and he called out laughingly as he always does to Hey-hey Woman: “Hey, hey, hey, have a great day!” (I always mean to ask him if he knows he is alluding to Fat Albert or not.). And I thought to myself — these people SEE ME. I am seen by them, even if they don’t know me. And I See them. We early morning trail folks do worry if someone doesn’t show up on a day when we expect them to. We say jokingly to each other, “hey, you are late today”. The gaggle of walking friends who have a ringleader that usually speaks for them, smile at me and say, “Happy Hump Day. Almost there!” or “Happy Friday, time for the weekend”. Sometimes even the bearded grey man who walks far away in the dirt part of trail and carries a big walking stick, the one who never talks to any one, the one I call “Gandalf”, sometimes I will give him a little wave and he will secretly wave back and today he did. I think he knows I will never reveal his true identity. On the trail, with “my people”, I know if I fell down, someone would come by and give me help. I saw Paige after the last election, and I just gave her a big hug while she cried a little bit as I held her hand. Some of us trail folks seem to know things about each other, things that are never said, but when you walk the trail morning after morning with people you connect in ways that go beyond words somehow. George, an older Black man, and I connected one morning with worry about whether any one we knew had been effected by the recent Eaton Fires. I told him about my friends who had lost their historical Black church in the fire. That is when I found out he was a pastor. I worry about his wife Melba when she isn’t with her husband Pastor George. I was happy for Patrick when he got a new mutt after so many years of missing his old golden retriever. Ali was a fighter pilot for Iran before coming to America, and he is prickly about the world but also a great hugger. I have to plan extra time on Saturdays, when I know that Ali will want to talk. And the professor — well, Jose was a gardener for twenty years for the L.A. School district. I used to wonder why in the world he still wore a face mask every morning on his runs. But then one day we talked, and I found out his wife has asthma, so he runs every morning with a mask on so as not to bring any germs home to her. If you are a runner you will especially realize what a sacrifice of love this is of Jose for his wife. (I now call Jose, “Professor Gardener”. Jose is quick as a hare and I also teasingly call him the Energizer Bunny).
I used to be part of what I thought was a community — it was called a church. And then one day, through a series of unfortunate events, called American elections, I woke up to realize that the word “community” was just a name to these people, and not an action. I realized that at least for this particular group of people, a church “community” was just another word for “walled in fortress” — an “us versus them” idea. And when I became a “them”, I was suspect, not really “one of them”. I have come to believe that we early morning trail joggers and walkers are a little microcosm of what the word “community” means to me. And I guess this is what is lacking in the world today. People think their church or their country club or their town will provide community, but they don’t realize that a group defined by beliefs, or status, or culture is temporal and oh, so very fragile. And if we could all just look at everyone we meet as someone in our community — the community of humans — If we could just SEE that other human being as someone who is just like we are — like the birds see birds, and the coyotes see coyotes, and the ants see ants — If we could see that that person is a human being just like I am a human being — If we would really SEE — the woman with the screaming child at the grocery, the homeless man in the shadows of the church door, the Black Lives Matter people protesting the police, the police burying their fallen friends, the woman in a hijab studying at the university, the woman who fled her war-torn country, now waiting for a bus to go clean someone’s house because that is how she can feed her children in what she hopes is a safe nation to live in; if we saw the old lady who fumbles for her change in the store; the teenager who tries to impress his pals by riding too fast on his skateboard; yes, if we could even see the driver who refused to slow down as someone who has been dehumanized by his vehicle and yes, if we could see the people who leave their trash on our sidewalks as people who think no one cares about them so why should they care — If. We. Could. See. . . then couldn’t we possibly, just maybe, change Everything?
If I would see every human being in the whole world as part of my community, well, that would at least change everything for me. I can’t change the world, but I can change myself.
So, every day, now I try to make a little pact with myself: I will not go home from my run without picking up at least one piece of someone else’s trash. I pick up the trash because I want to feel empathy with the animals, and fish, and the water in the Ocean, and with our dear Mother Earth. I love all those things like birds and squirrels and waves, and I empathize that they can not pick up someone else’s trash, but I can. I can help. I also try to turn my irritation and anger into empathy for the person who maybe didn’t realize the piece of paper fell out of their pocket, or who rushed off and left their plastic cup on the sidewalk because they got a distressing call, or the homeless person who left his beer can in the street, who day after day realizes no one cares about him and he is just trying to survive on the streets. God knows, how much I would want to drink if I had no home. Empathy.
When I am almost hit by a car, after cursing and muttering imprecations and throwing my arms in the air at the driver with lights and eyes a-blazing, I say, “ Anger is the right response, but now, please, God forgive my unchecked anger, and help me pity them.”. Pity is not so great a response with friends and family but it is a very helpful tool when strangers hurt you or almost hurt you or cause you anger or fear. Pity.
So — pity and empathy help me see every one as a human being, just as I am, and therefore, they are part of my community. I don’t have to like everyone in my community or agree with them and I may at times have a responsibility to call someone out for bad behavior — even if it means getting a dirty look from someone who has forgotten they are a human being and that I am a human being too. I can’t make someone change. But I can model good human-being-ness. And when I don’t — when I mess up, or am mean to someone, or impatient, or hurt the environment, or act out of anger or fear — then I am simply in a place to recognize — we are all human, and I can try to find mercy and grace within me, as I ask for mercy and grace from others. Grace.
And now I think I know what I wish my Super Power would be if I could be the Ruler of the World. I think, actually, that my Super Power would solve all the problems in the world — the violence, the bombs, the hunger, the greed, the tragedy of what we are doing to our Planet Home. If I could have one Super Power it would be to make every single human being — -
Care.
If we just cared about every single person we meet and then care about the people we will never meet then we would all be kind, we would share, we certainly wouldn’t kill or harm people we care about. If I cared about every one, all the people who think differently than I do, all the irritating people, all the angry people, all the lonely strangers, in the same way I care about my dearly loved family and friends, then wouldn’t all my problems seem smaller, and more easy to handle, and wouldn’t I be happier sooner? If I cared, wouldn’t my anger at injustice pass in a moment and I would try to help people who, after all, just don’t understand the consequences of their actions — wouldn’t I try to help them change course? And wouldn’t fear would be replaced by acceptance and grace, and prejudice would be replaced by curiosity, and greed would be replaced by trust that there is always Enough — if I cared. If we cared, we would share our sorrows and mourn together because we know this life is short, but eternity is long. If we cared, we would realize that today is a good day to do something to try to make sure that all needs are met by helpfulness and sharing rather than separation and dismissal.
People lately have been saying that you put your family first, your friends, your community and if there is any left over then you can care about others. This is exactly the complete opposite of what the greatest spiritual teachers who ever lived believed. The True Truth is the Buddhist idea of Oneness with others. The True Truth is the Judeo-Christian idea that you put the least of us first, and you go after the one that is lost, not hang out behind walls, with those who have “found it”. Because none of us have “found” all of it. We are all seekers for meaning in a world that can seem so meaningless at times. So a little bit of humility in the face of what someone else might be going through, a little less driving with eyes averted and a little more walking in someone else’s trainers, just might be the ticket to that freedom from anger and fear that we really all deep down desire.
Can you imagine if we all believed that we are not separate from the bad driver, or from the screaming grocery-cart child or her mother, but One with them? But I always think that Jesus said it best, “Love others as you love yourself. And also — Love your enemy.” This wasn’t pie in the sky theology. This was practical sensible wisdom (as all True Truth is). Loving every one as if they were myself; Loving everything in the world as if it were created by God (it was); Loving every single, broken, messed up, trash-talking, trash-throwing, insane-driving, hungry, fearful human as if they were your only child; loving even the person who has forgotten that at the end of this life, there is only one thing that will have mattered — how much did you care? How much love did you grow in yourself and plant in the world to grow in others? To riff on early Judeo-Christian thought — “Now only three things have any real meaning, and will remain as your legacy, and will remain to exist in Eternity — faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is Love”.
Where will your trail take you today? And on that journey, if you had one Super Power, what would it be and how would you use it?
Today I hope to walk a little further on the Way, on the narrow path that leads to Life and not mindlessly jog the wide trail that leads to the destruction of my soul’s peace, joy, and love. I hope to find a little more grace for others and for myself. I hope to find a few pieces of trash to turn around for and pick up to throw away. I hope I will turn my anger into pity, my fear into hope, my hate into empathy, and my doubt about the continuing existence of humanity, into faith. And each step that I have left — whether for just another decade or just another day — I will try to draw on my own, God-given Super Power — a power we all can have if we want it– and I will Rise Up in The Ultimate Power of — Caring. The Super Power of Love. And maybe just maybe, people will see my Super Power and they will say — “hey, I want some of that power. I want to have that.”
Maybe.
And maybe our children, and our children’s children will thank us for ruling the world with Love, and keeping it and them safe to continue to rule it with Love, forever, and ever. Amen.
Jane Tawel 