I’m not sure if they all will, but there is a good chance that my whole family will march on Saturday. Not together. But will show up in Portland and in Seattle and in Spirit. And it makes me so proud.
I know my Mom would have been so activated about this march, this election, these current events.
As I’ve watched Barack and Michelle Obama, and listened to their considerations for their daughters especially, I am reminded of my Mom’s (along with my Dad’s) modeling over the course of my life, about caring deeply, and especially about things that matter. That modeling triggers me to care deeply right now.
- To tear up as I watch videos and read reports of people doing the right thing, courageously speaking the truth and showing up.
- To feel moved by everything that is going on and not be complicit any longer.
- To wonder what it means, what will happen, what the context is, what to believe, what to ignore.
That is my Mom’s legacy. That is all parents’ and adults’ true legacy.
The indelible imprint left on the next generation by their elders’ actions more than their words.
This Women’s March (with 200,000+ expected in D.C. including a few of my friends, 30,000+ expected in Portland including countless friends, folks I know marching in St. Louis, New Orleans, Sacramento, plus 100s of other marches in cities around the world) is literally millions of women showing up in solidarity. Millions of people showing up.
Yes, that does give me hope.
But is it enough?
Enough for what? To change public opinion? To change leadership? To change belief systems toward the Beloved Community, where no one is at risk and needs protection?
Well, probably not.
But, it is a tipping point.
And, to answer my Dad’s question from earlier today: that is the point of the March, I think.
To show solidarity, tipping us over to the other side — where enough is enough and real change can start.
I suppose President Trump’s election has been what I like to call the “disruptive catalyst” — something that shakes us to the core, turns our world upside down and jumpstarts us anew — to get us to this tipping point.
And from my extensive personal experience with disruptive catalysts this is the most painful, but most enlightening, part of the transformation process.
The pain has gotten too great to ignore any longer. A new way must be found.
There is no going back. Nor would one want to now that one’s eyes are opened so widely to the true reality of now. Not the now that one wanted to be, but that is.
Is because of circumstances and choices that we participated in.
In the shock of this new now, there is no remorse, no guilt, no shame, no judgement, no fear, no grief, no anger, but there is space.
A wide open space.
A space that will be filled. But remains an opportunity for now. A space that is magnetic—for inspiration. For inspiring the new, as yet unimagined, way.
It first attracts all the positive energy, the force—of creation, of new, of growth, of possibility.
A space for pure inspiration.
Mind you, not drive, not ambition, not opportunistic. Those are the acts of making something happen that one thinks should be (or could be). Inspiration is the act of an idea being born of its own accord—emerging from what must be.
And some people call this inspiration love.
I do in the sense that I love inspiration: I love feeling inspired. I love feeling lifted up, lighter, elevated. I love feeling its freedom, its vastness, its calling. It is a divine feeling. And so is love.
So, when we follow the jolt of a disruptive catalyst with an openness to inspiration, perhaps what we create is love. Or more love. Or closer to love than we were before.
Sure, some people would go another way. The space would collapse into itself, into a black hole of negative energy, from fear to hate. So deep their hurting.
Those people exist. And I feel for them.
But I am not one of those people. That is not how I respond to a disruptive catalyst.
That is not how my family responds. That is not how our family friends respond. That is not how my mentors respond. That is not how my peers respond. That is not how my friends respond. That is not how my people respond.
We are not better, but I dare say, we are better off.
I cannot even imagine how profoundly hard living in an existence of hate must be. The paranoia, the anxiety, the distrust, the fear, the defensiveness, the anger, the judgement, the shame. How exhausting and life draining! And, it’s never satisfied. Literally like a black hole.
So, I guess that is what everybody is talking about. And what it means when people at my church say they are “standing on the side of love.”
Well, then, yes, I too am standing (up and beside and within and) for love, for creation, for positivity, for creativity, for inspiration.
I am inspired to stand up and to walk.
I am inspired to do better and seek better.
I am inspired to be true and real.
I am inspired to respond and help.
I am inspired to understand and listen.
I am inspired to follow and lead.
I am inspired to show up.