Our Sacred Duty to Listen

The alarm goes off, I roll out of bed, crawl downstairs, make my first cup of tea. and wander outside for my morning ritual. It is time to greet the day. The words change depending on my mood, who’s sick or having a rough time, the news headlines. The time I spend depends on how hungry I am, how soon I need to get to my first meeting, and the weather. I look out at Puget Sound and on a rare clear day see the tips of the Olympic Mountains.

I believe in centering my soul and becoming grounded with the Earth. I believe in the power of sending a kindness blessing to all those I love, those who suffer, and those I absolutely cannot abide. I call out, “may you all be happy and peaceful, may you all be healthy and strong, may you all be safe and free, may you care for yourself with ease and with joy”: to my children, my husband of 35 years (even on the days I’m carrying a grudge), our national leaders, the people of Iraq, and the folks in Rwanda.

I believe you can’t work for peace until you’ve learned to get along with your mother-in-law. Which, happily, I did. I believe that staying fully alive and present to this moment right here right now is the best way to move forward.

I believe in drinking green tea, eating an egg a day, and having a glass of red wine with dinner – preferably pinot noir since seeing the film Sideways. As a survivor of lymphoma, I believe that life is too short to spend it lamenting what might have been – that my best days include walking with a friend, laughing uproariously with my sons, the organic farmer and the film studies major, eating a leisurely meal with my husband as we dissect the pieces of our day. Working for peace, justice, and a sustainable future is my passion. We plant a garden and buy locally grown food, I write an article opposing the war and encouraging alternatives, I stand vigil with my neighbors to mark the 1000th US soldier and countless Iraqis who have been killed. I believe that witnessing has a purpose of its own.

I believe that I am right, but I also believe that if our community, nation, the Earth are going to survive we must find ways to cross the divide to seek out the opposing point of view. I learned from my mom, with whom I disagreed on many things, to squeeze my feet into other people’s shoes and walk around a bit, and, paradoxically, from my dad who believed children should be seen and not heard. I imagine a diverse group of people, donning red and blue tee-shirts, sitting together in a circle, taking turns, like kids in kindergarten, speaking what’s on their heart and mind, without fear of reprisal, having the unique experience of being heard. I believe it is our sacred duty to listen.