I have always been the rainbow sheep of my family. Quirky kid that I was, I was asking head scratching questions on the regular, with my parents often at a loss for how to respond. The queries usually had to do with life, the Universe and everything. I wondered why people were mean to each other, why there were wars, why some people were poor, why people were judged by how they looked or how they prayed. My parents, bless them, encouraged my curiosity and brought my sister and me to places where we could learn, such as the library, Worlds Fair in NYC in the 1960s, a multi-cultural festival at a local high school, museums, concerts and plays.
The women at the India pavilion at the World’s Fair were fascinated with my sister’s red hair and kept touching it. I, in turn was fascinated with the bindi that they wore. My parents brought home a wicker container that had incense in it and to this day, I have loved the aroma of lavender, nag champa and sweet grass which is what I remember it smelling like. I wear lavender and patchouli and burn incense and sage to cleanse the energy in my home. At 64, I am often decked out in rainbow hues and color my erstwhile salt and pepper hair with vegan dye in radiant shades of purple. It’s my calling card and branding, this gracefully aging tree hugging hippie chick.
I attempt to see the world through rainbow colored glasses which is not easy in the face of so much chaos and destruction. In a recent conversation with a friend, I expressed my frustration with trying to maintain a balance of healthy outrage and compassion for people whose perspective seems to be polar opposite of mine. The ideas of ‘live and let live,’ and ‘agree to disagree,’ don’t sit well with me when lives and rights are on the line. How do I wrap my mind around people who support the ever more desperate attempts by the previous occupant of the Oval office to grasp the elements of dictatorship. Never would I have imagined that our country would be in the literal crosshairs of those who want to ‘burn it all down,’ cause a race war, disturb the peace, hold on to their white, hetero, cis-gender privilege at all costs.
I am bewildered that anti-Semitism still roars and spews venom. If I could speak to someone who holds fast to that ideology, I would ask them how they rationalize hating and wishing ill toward people who, like the one they claim as Lord and Savior are Jewish. What would Jesus say about their beliefs and actions? I’m thinking he wouldn’t be a happy camper. The Jesus I know and love, is a brother, a Holy Rascal, by definition, “One who does justly, acts kindly and walks humbly with their God” with a heaping dose of humor, a peacemonger and love spreader. Heck, he could even be an honorary Hugmobster Armed With Love.
My view from here is that, as a species, we need to make peace with our divergent beliefs, or perish by battling it out incessantly. The song, from one of my favorite movies, Billy Jack is called One Tin Soldier.
“Go ahead and hate your neighbor
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of heaven
You could justify it in the end
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away.”
As a common humanity, we don’t have the luxury of hating our neighbor, regardless of their beliefs. I can, with all transparency say that I don’t hate those who would hate me for my religion, my gender or my political beliefs. I can use my anger as a tool for transformation and not a weapon of destruction. My intention is to soften hearts and open minds.
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photos courtesy of the author.