BLUE MOON RISING
In the late 1990’s I studied Judaism, hoping to convert. After a year of discourse, study and reflection, I felt as though I was swimming upstream in a mighty river. I confessed to the rabbi, “I can never learn everything about the Jewish faith.”
“This just proves, Elisa, that you are now ready to convert,” he responded.
I nearly fainted. Already?
In 2020 reckoning with inequity requires a dive deep into America’s murky past. To grapple with the genesis of racism, White Americans require more than reading the worthy best sellers focused on the issue, more than sorrow or surprise. The atrocity of George Floyd’s murder, replayed unceasingly, released a torrent of realizations among many White Americans. Finally. Yet the tragedy of 400 years of racism is lived by sixteen percent of Americans every day. True change in America will take much more than study, sorrow or surprise. We must want to want to change, want to want equity.
Now, due to Covid-19, we wear masks and isolate. Or most of us do. Our normal, palliative, consumer society is out of reach. No shopping in malls, no sporting events, no concerts, no celebrations of any considerable size. Collective somnambulism is no longer an option. We are reduced to our smallest common denominator. One note. You. Me.
We may harden our edges when we isolate. Fear, scarcity, and lack of trust create a crusty armor that builds upon itself, unbidden. We retract from the unknown; we seek safety in the known. Yet the pandemic provides a perfect time for private study, for contemplation, for realignment of our perspectives — if we want to.
This essay is an invitation to listen for the melodic grace note sounding in the blood and bone of every human on the planet.
In the early days of the shut down I did a lot of hiking. One day on the trail I found myself listing things I trekked past: poison oak; likely areas for rattlesnakes; loose rocks; tender ferns; blackberries about to ripen. Seeking to confirm. A habit. Confirmation bias is a subconscious tendency to reinforce existing beliefs, to confirm we are right. Or safe. Or smart. A way to be what we have already been, do what we have already done. That day I felt the lifelessness of my list making. How does this habit serve me?
Where is the wonder?
From the beginning, humans could discern, and from discernment conclude, and from conclusion choose behavior. The practical use of discernment leads to safe choices. But our tendency to confirm our biases can lead to a closed heart and mind. We seek safety… but we create separation when we harden our beliefs.
We have seen throughout history (Nazi Germany is a handy example) people weigh their worth through comparative reality, seeking something that makes them feel superior. For us to fully accept authentic equity, however, I propose we rise above comparative reality and embrace the absolute difference between all people, not the absolute sameness. Let’s celebrate that we are each unique. No matter what heritage, ethnicity, age or education you yourself might be associated with, I guarantee you see yourself as unique. If this is true for you, and for me, it is true for each of us.
“Melting the edge” is a practice, a relief valve that eases our reactive self. Meditation, contemplation and research help us excavate embedded beliefs. In times of unprecedented change this practice can unearth fertile new ground. Are we brave enough to cultivate wonder? Willing to be bare, vulnerable, and explore the unspoken? We must be willing to not know.
There is a lot I don’t know. And I am not alone.
In August, more murders of unarmed Black Americans caused athletes to rise up across the country in protest. In the midst of the turmoil, Doc Rivers, a well-known professional basketball coach, cried openly on live television. “We’re the ones getting killed. We’re the ones getting shot. We’ve been hung. It’s amazing how we keep loving this country, and this country does not love us back.”
The historic, tacitly sanctioned withholding of equity deprives all of us of the gifts of the other. Authentic equity, in a practical sense, can expand and enhance the experience of every one of us in our country.
What can we do now, in our agitated, defended, fearful society, during economic, political and social upheaval? You and I cannot erase the horror of slavery. We cannot defend it. We cannot even imagine what our country would have become without it. Our only path forward is to open. To melt our edges. To regain wonder.
Let me explain from my experience as a colorist and painter.
Color and music are vibration. Intervals, intensities, and juxtapositions generate a seemingly limitless range of effects. The combinations of notes or colors create the unique resonance we perceive.
Presence and absence, intervals and contrast can make a song, a piece of art, so moving it piques our curiosity. If we are attuned, even a little, curiosity can open the door to wonder, to interconnectedness, to what lies beyond the edges of our everyday self. Just as suppressing the range of a keyboard will yield fewer variations, suppressing equity deprives all of us of the full range of human expression.
What draws us to the smile of a child, the warmth of the sun, the scent of a flower? These are an invitation to feel, to sense, to connect. To connect now we need radical trust in our own sense of wonder. To start this process, we must step across the threshold, out of the known, into the new. We must, quite simply, want to want to.
I have no proof, no perfect research, no authority to quote. But intuitively, I believe 85 percent of the people in our country want much the same things: freedom, safety, comfort, and love. But we have varying ideas about how to attain these.
What do we value, and how do we scale it?
In the 1950’s I recited the Girl Scout motto, vowing to be “ready to help out wherever needed. Willingness to serve is not enough; you must know how to do the job well, even in an emergency.”
At Catholic Catechism class, from six to twelve years old, I hoped it was true that a “special grace could deepen and strengthen my faith, not only for my needs but for the needs of others.”
At home I had a long list of chores, three times those of my two brothers. It was assumed that ironing, dishes, cleaning, baking, dusting and vacuuming were girl jobs, central to the family’s happiness.
Clearly, no matter the source, the importance of the greater good was the focus of childhood values taught 60 years ago. Today I long to hear leaders, teachers, parents and friends bring forward the notion of the greater good. The Jewish faith is imbued with ethical values. At NAACP meetings, inclusiveness rings clear despite the harrowing times people of color continue to face. I find solace and fulfillment in community work, pitching in financially and physically helps me experience connection. There is a common thread here: the notion of the greater good endures.
But is it elevated enough to be seen by those sequestered in fear, or in anger, or in simple isolation? Is it powerful enough to illuminate the inequity of centuries?
To change we must be willing to see, to see we must be willing to look.
I invite you to ask your better angels to step forward, if you believe in angels. Perform a ritual if you are pagan. Pray and meditate, breathe and dance, make art. Release your own greater good, Jews, Muslims and Christians, agnostics and pagans. Ring the living bell; shine the living light. Be on the lookout for good. Receive acceptance. Project hope. Explore the unspoken, become familiar with your unknowing place.
Study, people! Widen your lens. Greet the light. Ponder. Share. Take heart and do the important work ahead. Connect as best you can with those who might call you ‘other.’ What is so precious about what you have already done? Embrace the unknown . . .
Welcome the unexpected, greet the small blessings around you. Find a blossom in the gloom, return a kind smile at the grocery. Be grateful for a warm hand upon your own. Imagine the scent of your favorite flower when you face difficult conversations. When weary or afraid, bring the idea of the scent into the shower and drench yourself with delight. Why not?
Renewal is essential in times like these.
Last night when the Blue Moon rose, full and bright, I was reminded of the Jewish calendar. Why is this ancient calendar based on the moon? Jewish lore says the moon, as the source of the reflected light of the sun, is a symbol of our human soul in relation to God. Like the full moon we shine brightest when we intentionally reflect the values of our faith. Legend also says the Jews could tell the moon felt lonely, because other calendars were based on the sun.
As the cool moonlight spread evenly across the meadow, highlighting the edge of every substantive element outside, I placed a glass full of water in the center of our patio table. The moonlight cast a ring of reflection onto a piece of paper inscribed with this incantation:
May the light of the moon this night charge the landscape and all the waters across this country with love and healing. May the reflected light of the sun energize the hearts and minds of all of us as we seek trust, peace, equity, and kindhearted community together. May it be so.
When morning came I read aloud the incantation, and drank every drop of the charged moon water. May I be brave and true, at the ready to do the job well, the job of being human.
May the greater good spread like moonlight all across this land.
Resources:
I thank these authors for their powerful insight and transformative grace:
Some Thoughts on Mercy by Ross Gay The Sun Magazine July 2013
Caste: The Origins of our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson 2020
Just Mercy, A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson
Morality, Restoring the Common Good in Divided Times, by Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks
How to Be an Anti-Rascist by Ibram X. Kendi
True Refuge, Finding Peace and Freedom in Your Own Awakened Heart by Tara Brach
I’m Still Here, Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness by Austin Channing Brown
White Fragility by Robin Diangelo
Tara Brach Meditations and lectures www.tarabrach.com
