A proclamation for a few

"Christian, Jew, Muslim, shaman, Zoroastrian, stone, ground, mountain, river, each has a secret way of being with the mystery, unique and not to be judged"     - Rumi

Maybe you’ve gathered that I’m pagan. Maybe we met recently and I introduced myself to you as Dove. Maybe we’ve shared sacred space together. Maybe you knew me on Maui. Maybe you’re family, just trying to understand me a bit better. If any of what I've just said comes as a surprise, then this post was made just for you. This writing was born out of personal necessity and I’d like to get it out of the way so that I can get on to writing about things that really matter to me without you wondering where the heck that came from or getting offended. Maybe that won’t happen at all and I’m just projecting, again. But you can see, just the idea of writing what I want has made me a little neurotic.

I choose the name Dove, primarily among close friends and my spiritual community, because doves serve as a reminder to me of the inherent sanctity and perfection within us all; they are pure, innocent, and sacred. One flew over Christ at his baptism. In Greek mythology, doves draw the chariot of Aphrodite, the Goddess of love. The Hindu god, Yama used doves as messengers, and the Japanese god of war, Hackiman, used doves to announce the end of war. They are understood cross-culturally as symbols of peace and compassion. For me, they bridge the gap between my Christian upbringing and my pagan reality. One of my goals for the year is to write more and that includes this blog. I've spent a lot more time making it look nice, than I've spent writing on it because I've refrained from writing about themes that really inspire me. That changes here. I choose to be Dove instead of Shari here in this webspace, because I created this space to express myself from a place of spiritual integration, and being Dove is a part of that. If that makes you uncomfortable, then lets just be Facebook friends. 

I don’t want to write about what I believe in or why. I have absolutely no interest in explaining myself. (If you really want to know more, just read the quote above. That pretty much sums it up.) I just want to write without there being this line, this boundary that I won’t let others cross, the line that shows you who I really am and what I really believe in. Having any sort of limitation, hinders your ability to really express fully from the heart. It’s stupid to live in the United States and not express yourself and truly be who you were born to be, even in spite of your friends and your family and the people you love. And after years of struggling against my natural inclination to hide, I realize that it is frighteningly easy to play that game in a place where everyone has the liberty to think and believe and do whatever the heck they want. I don’t need to be accepted by you. I need to be liberated from my fear of not being accepted by you. And that’s all this is, a simple letting go, so that I can get closer to being me. It's still a work in progress.

Insight into Activism on MLK, Jr. Day

On the day we remember a leader in civil rights and liberty for all, I wonder why the Occupy Movement has dwindled.  When Occupy began I got caught up in the current and the rhetoric and the adrenaline; so many people, all sorts of people, having conversations that mirrored my concerns. I’m disappointed that the media has decided it’s over. “Why?” I asked Marc, my mom’s boyfriend. “Why couldn’t Occupy have the same staying power as the Civil Rights Movement?”

           He said, “Well, because we had a leader for the Civil Rights Movement. We had a clearly defined message with a clearly defined goal."

And in light of that I see how activism has changed since the early-mid 20^th century. When you think about the names of the major movements of the 20^th century, you hear it – We wanted Women’s Suffrage, we wanted Civil Rights. What do we want now? Balanced wealth? Corporate accountability? Evenly distributed taxes? It's a hard question to answer because what we want no longer falls under one umbrella. These movements of the 20th century had visionaries and a face that could be distinguished from the rest of the crowd. There was consensus. We had Susan B. Anthony and the National Women’s Party. We had MLK and the NAACP. Blacks during the Civil Rights movement knew that they were marching into police brutality, unemployment, and terrorism as a result of their visible unrest. It was the brutality under which they suffered that brought the Civil Rights Movement to the world arena.  When they were sprayed with fire hoses and beat with police batons, when they were being stabbed and beaten, when their daughters were blown up in places of worship, they responded with peaceful protest, not physical violence. What would happen today if officials did that to a crowd of Occupiers? We would not sit peacefully and wait for the world to see, we would vandalize and we would fight, because we have a much deeper sense of entitlement now.

That’s why our approach to protest has changed.  We defend our rights instead of acquiring new ones.  The voices of our protest come from every race, religion, sexual orientation, employment status and ability. Our face is every face. And instead of having a clear goal, whether it’s a law to be passed in Congress, or an Amendment made to the Constitution, we have instead opted to turn political theatre into a stage where we can express the diversity of our opinions and show the world that the injustices that we are facing today transcend the boundaries that we thought once separated us.

Yes, Occupy has faded, but new avenues of conversation have opened up in academia, in politics, and in economics.  The truth that there is an imbalance of wealth has found it’s way into the media; people are now trying to define the “1%.” And in the midst of Occupy, Bank Transfer Day was born, which lead to Bank of America changing one of its major policies around debit and checking fees. Things seem to be changing from the bottom up instead of trickling down. It’s got people buzzing in the age of information, and that’s the legacy of activism today.

“Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.”

   

 - Martin Luther King, Jr.

Remembering What They Gave Me

They, are my fathers. When I was sixteen, one gave me a set of pearls to mark my coming of age. Now at twenty-four, the other has given me a diamond pendant cross on a fine chain, to mark our reunion after a life's absence. One begs me to remember and another asks me to forgive. Each pearl on a strand could be a memory: a Tuesday night Scrabble match, an evening driving lesson at that empty parking lot in the Sunset district, a bedtime story from Listening to the Great Teacher, an afternoon out on the old pier in Pacifica, a Sunday at the Hall, a Saturday in service, a dinner at Aunt Willy's. The pearls go on, eternally, like the memories I will always have of my father, Johnny Jefferson.

I've mentioned this cross before. It is my first diamond jewelry. It is the loved relic of a faith I never knew how to practice and of the family I am still learning how to know. The father whose name I carry, gave this piece to me. Its diamonds shine hard like the yearning to understand that never dissipated. Timeless, they say, I imagine one day, after my ashes have been spread, it will adorn the neck of a niece or daughter whose beliefs are different than mine. Will she know what it meant to me and what it represents? Will she know that in quiet moments of solitude I pried open the box my father gave me to peer upon its untarnished gold? Will she better be able to where it?


I remember them both during this odd time in my life, when the one that helped make me who I am through thousands of small cherished moments faces another year of cancer, and when the other can't understand why I turned away from him after receiving this cross and the family I've always wanted to know. These are sometimes the jewels of a woman's life, and in a gesture of trust and good will, I've shared them with you here. And still so early in my life, I can only wonder what jewels lie ahead.

Pondering Kepler-22

I was just reading an article to my cousins about the discovery of Kepler-22, the newest discovered Earth-like planet. Some 600 light years away, a planet almost two and a half times the size of Earth is orbiting a star much like our sun. Talking about it with them brought some interesting facts to light.

1. If we had a space craft that could travel at the speed of light, the astronauts on the mission would have to give birth to at least 20 generations of offspring in order to complete the journey to Kepler-22. This is assuming that people give birth roughly every 30 years from the start of the mission. So think about generations of people born at the speed of light, never knowing still life on the ground.

2. I believe that our lives on Earth are heavily influenced by the planets in our solar system, especially the moon. The tides, when things grow and reproduce, our menstrual cycles, are all influenced by the moon. Imagine what effect not having a moon, or having three moons, would have on us if we lived on a different planet.

3. Kepler-22 is 2.4 times the size of Earth. That means that if Kepler rotates at the same speed as Earth, our days would be nearly 60 hours long.

That made me wonder other things, like how many 60 hour days it takes Kepler to rotate its sun, and how that would effect our concept of time and our lifespan. Would it suddenly go from 80 years to 40? How long would our seasons be? Would life seem shorter if we knew we had half as many winters or would time seem to go by slower if our seasons were 2.4x, or 4x or 6x longer?

Just some interesting things to ponder.

Another chance to ride...

Today I met my father's eldest sister, Auntie Alma, and her husband, Uncle Lester, who has been training horses since he was in high school. I had the chance to ride six-year old Jasper, an Apalloosa horse, in the ring after a few months hiatus from Katherine's lessons in Stockbridge, MA. It was nice to get back in the saddle again with a new horse, and not be afraid. Tomorrow I'm breaking up Thanksgiving courses with a ride on a Tennessee Walker. Fun times!

Union

I say union because reunion implies a returning, a customary practice, or tradition. But this week during Thanksgiving for the first time I will be meeting my three brothers. I will meet nieces and a nephew that I never knew I had, and two sisters that I haven't seen since I was nine years old. I am doing all of this in company with a father that I never knew wanted to be a part of my life. This is an immensely personal post coming at a time that I have awaited for nearly my entire life. Painful voids are slowly being filled, at the very least some questions are being answered. I am not writing this to expose a painful past but to simply state that at times it was, and to remind all, that no matter the experiences we've lost or the memories that we didn't get to make with missed loved ones, there is always tomorrow and a million memories more to make. Their is always today and the dreams we still hold dear.

Today I picked my father up from the Birmingham Airport. Tomorrow we are driving with my two youngest sisters to Blakely, Georgia, where I will be surrounded by family I never knew I had but waits for me still. Tomorrow I go to embrace them with the diamond cross my father gave me hanging around my neck. Though it does not represent who I am spiritually, I wear it in solidarity and respect for my family, to remember that despite differences, family is the most important thing beneath the sky, and because I truly believe that something both outside of myself and within myself - God - is what has finally brought all of us together.

I also need to say that I did grow up with a dad, and that even though he is not my biological father, I am so thankful to have him in my life still, even years after his separation from my mother. Now my life is twice-blessed. Where there was one, there are now two. What could I be more thankful for over Thanksgiving? I am so grateful for all the love I have flowing into my life, and for the generous souls that have touched me during this past year. I have changed and grown for the better because of it, for it, and in spite of those that try to tell me otherwise. Start following your dreams today and live the life you deserve to live right now, and don't forget to say THANK YOU!

May all of you have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Love,
DOVE

One of many projects I have completed of late...

The new lace top I crocheted with my favorite crocheted lorraine lace scarf! Details and pattern information can be found under my "Off the Hook" tab.