I’ve been writing a
spiritual memoir, which is mostly a record of my life's moments of failure and loss because sadness and grief have shaped my personality and
orientation to the world.
Just as they have
for Joe Biden. Snarky people tweet that Biden has capitalized on his grief for
decades and it’s time to get over it. But it is his story. Losing a wife and
child when he was 30, losing a son just recently to cancer--these difficult
events have formed who he is, for every loss creates a place of choice:
Do I want to
proceed with an open heart, aware that there is surely more grief to come if I
do? or Do I want to close up and get smaller to protect my heart from
experiencing this kind of pain again?
I grew up with a
mother who made the latter choice. When my dad died suddenly, at age 42, a part
of her seemed to die too, and she walled herself off from future pain. She never
again lit up when my sister or I walked into the house. She never remarried,
didn’t even date, and her pleasures were few—a bridge game, a service sorority
meeting, an occasional trip to Minneapolis. Mostly she retreated behind a wall
of cigarette smoke and noise from the television, piling newspapers and
magazines on the couch and other chair in her den so that it took effort to be her
companion.
Joe Biden,
apparently, chose differently. He stayed
connected to his remaining children, he fell in love again, and he offers himself
to strangers. He has used his sorrow as a bridge to connect with others rather
than a wall to protect himself from future pain. That may be why he’s malleable on the
issues—he’s open to listening, experiencing others’ stories, and adjusting his
viewpoints accordingly.
Where have I closed
my heart to the pain of the world because it’s so overwhelming? Where do I need
to step out and lovingly demand changes in a system that continues to
shoot Black people for NO reason at all?
Kenosha Wisconsin
is not some big bad city. White
supremacy infiltrates every single institution in America, like carbon
monoxide—odorless and deadly. We have
detectors for this poison—the actual deaths, the videos of the shootings, the glaring
injustices.
It is past time to
remediate and remove this deadly force. Diverting funds from a militarized police
is akin to choosing not to build another bomber because we’re the most armed
country on the planet.
We’ve
over-protected ourselves, America, perhaps because we haven’t ever faced the
grief of our origins of indigenous genocide and slavery. In
our armoring, we’ve stunted real human connection and growth. We're a country stuck in adolescence. What would an old soul country do?
Wise countries might take 52% of the budget that is devoted to military and enact wages
that afford people to have housing when they’re working. A mature country would invest in wellness to prevent our deadliest diseases that occur because of the choices we make. A sane country prioritizes the well-being of its children--with beautiful opportunities to learn, play, and develop occur in safe, healthy environments.
Despite the appearance of rage, I believe America is grieving, and
the choice is clear—we can harden our hearts in hope that we won’t feel more pain or we can remain tender to what’s happening and walk on a bridge of love to what can be
if we only remain open.
