I wrote yesterday, questioning a cleaving to what looks to me like an addiction to mindless consumerism and the overshadowing of the returning of the light with obligatory spending. In some fora, certain people felt angry, disgusted, or annoyed by this. One person said I should be bashed in the head. Others called me ignorant. Some agreed with my words, or found some fodder for contemplation. Many others people wrote back, saying that what they really love is time with friends and family.
I get that last part. Anything that brings us back toward love and connection is OK by me, and I want to keep trying to get back to that river. But I also want to look at the detritus – the trash and the toxins – that swim there with me. I want to keep questioning my role in the scheme of things, whether it is how I make a living, how closely my theology matches my actions, what I buy or don’t buy, how I treat my partners, or how I treat myself. Some days I do better than others. We live in a world filled with the dance of interlocking relationships and we have to sometimes say, “This is the piece I can pick up, right here.” Obviously, no one else can do that for us, though sometimes we feel inspired by the actions or words of another being. I listed some of those inspirations at the end of my last blog.
We can question each other. Over the years I have been questioned, intensively, and have kept circling back to why I do what I do. As a culture, we desperately need the questioning voices. I hope we keep standing up to, and for, and with each other. And I hope we keep holding one another in loving arms.
Here is my prayer for this evening: “May my actions be the best ones I can offer. May I strive to be thoughtful. May the waters of healing flow between the worlds.”
Whatever holiday you celebrate this time of year, I say, blessed be. And thanks for thinking with me.