Exploring Ways To Make Peace Within
Ourselves & the World

Women In Black Denver, Colorado

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Why Do I Write This Blog???

The easiest (and probably the most honest) answer to that question is: I don't know. It all started in the summer of 2005, when I went to Crawford, Texas ( a.k.a. the home of the prez's ranch, a.k.a. the home of Camp Casey) to support Cindy Sheehan. I wanted the world to know that, contrary to what one could read in the mainstream media, the peace movement was alive and well and large numbers of Americans did not support the war in Iraq. I wanted people to know that thousands of Americans were willing to travel to Texas and tolerate the heat, humidity, and bugs in order to support a grieving mother whose new purpose was to shine a light on the lies that led to the war and to bring home our troops so that no other mother would have to know the pain that she felt.

Over time, this blog has become more of an exploration of who I am, my spirituality, and how life works. I love life's complexities, exploring the shades of gray. I want to, as Rainier Maria Rilke said,

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."

Maybe my blog is just one big question about what is needed in order for people to take the time to love and cherish each other and our earth. Maybe someday, I will "live along some distant day into the answer."

In the meantime, thank you for joining me on my journey. I welcome you to share yours with me

 

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Uprising

The View yesterday as I stood with Women in Black. "Gilbert's Mesa" can be seen in the background.









Uprising

Feeling the warm Colorado sun on the back of my legs,
I am thankful that my clothes are black, gathering and focusing
solar energy to soothe my bones.
I stand beside the street, cold cement beneath me,
the breeze blowing my hair, and my sisters beside me.
Black Hummers and blue and red Suburbans speed past,
but when they stop for the red light, there is a silence
almost more powerful than the quiet of the desert.
I hear no bird singing, and neither do I hear a human voice.
The air sounds like the moment after someone dies.
Empty

In this space, my mind repeats my mantram and a few prayers
"O Great Spirit, May we walk in Beauty..."
"Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.."
while my eyes rest on distant Gilbert's Mesa*.
I can hear Dick Gilbert's** voice
reminding us to not get caught up in fear of
imagined rattlesnakes behind every rock
lest we forget the bigger view. I remember
the moment I was in doubt about my leadership role
and he told me that "you just do it".

So I just do it. Every Saturday, I pull out the banner and signs
It doesn't matter if it is cold or hot.
Our soldiers can't stay home because of weather.
I do it because there is always some young man
who makes eye contact with me and smiles with a thumbs up,
women who honk and thank us,
or a little girl with blond hair who shyly waves.
I do it for that little girl's future
and for the future of the angry young man who yells obscenities at us.
I do it for Dick Gilbert
because he believed that what I do matters.
I do it because if I don't speak my truth, I am complicit
in the killing, raping and torture being done by my people.


*Really South Table Mesa in Golden, CO
**Interim minister for Jefferson Unitarian Church, 2002-03; Social Activist,
http://www.jeffersonunitarian.org/sermons/gilbert/index.html

posted by Carol at 6:45 PM


1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Carol

Thank you for just doing it and for sharing your poem with us. Dick would be proud. :-)

Liz

12:31 PM  

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