God, judgement, gorillas and what do to about it.

   It’s weird but even if a god doesn’t exist, we still need one. And I’m fully prepared to explain why. I know and love lots of god fearing folks, and lots of ethical atheists. This has nothing to do with either, but I do believe it could save us all.

   I’d like to address what lies at the core of almost every problem I can think of: judgement.

   First off, we have to judge. I get that. We have a plethora of input we must sift through and decipher as important or not. We cannot pay attention to everything we sense. We must judge just to survive.
   But, beyond what’s necessary, we all keep judging. And that is the core of a myriad of problematic complexities that once seen, can’t be unseen.  
   If you are a monotheist, then judgement is not your place. Your god is your judge. That one is plain and simple. You can interpret for yourself the right or wrong of whatever you do in accordance with how you deem your god might judge you. And you can assign your own value to who or what gets input on those decisions. But you can’t argue that your personal judgment is ever valid. You surrender that to the divine just by knowing that there is one. Maybe you’re a Christian and you believe homosexuality is sinful. You can share that belief if you want. But if you harass, or bully, restrict or condemn another over it - you are wrong. It’s very plain and very simple. God is their judge, not you.  If you persist, you haven’t learned. You’re building a house of cards in a hurricane. This isn’t my judgment. It’s yours. 

   Fret not. It’s ok. We love the sinner not the sin. But you are no longer surrendering to God in faith.  You’re just judging. You are sinning. You are wrong.

  
   Maybe you’re Hindu and hold that abortion is aviation of ahimsa (non violence). The same point remains valid. You, by your own admission, are not God. She must be the deciding factor of whether that fetus gets to become a baby or not, and you violating her in order to act on your judgement is wrong. Maybe you are motivated by altruism. You want to save the baby. Anyone can see that’s a problem. But it’s plainly obvious that proceeding wrongly is no viable solution. 

   Nobody said this was easy.  

   At the same time, judging each other even over faulty judgements, is wrong. Even if a baby were somehow put in charge of the entire world, and he made ridiculously short sighted decisions that endangered the very fabric of existence, one is still wrong for calling him out, hurting him, labeling his supporters, or claiming his actions were or will be entirely treacherous - because, let’s face it: nobody hears past hurt. Maybe a baby shouldn’t be qualified for this job. Maybe, others ought to evaluate clearly and rightly step in. If one would like to engage in a debate on this, one must proceed professionally. And If you can’t, it’s fine. Forgive yourself. Understand that you really do not know the factual consequences of every action. Step aside, and maybe let someone with more stamina step in.

   Because in secular life, it’s the same. Even if it is because you’re a judge or leader of some sort and decisions are made as a result of your professional judgment in particular, you still base those judgements on stacks of other people or precedents. A politician has an obligation to their supporters and constituents. Every role has an implied responsibility. A teacher has an obligation to a curriculum. Even a businessperson has a goal to produce a profit. The judging role implicitly permeates the judgment. That’s why, it’s not entirely yours. You agree to judge on behalf of your duty. But it’s not just your judgment you are should be using. You can, and will be wrong. 

   Decades ago Daniel Quinn wrote book called Ishmael. It’s about a man talking to a gorilla. In it, the gorilla beautifully describes how humanity has gone astray, and it started with the very technology we attribute to our evolution: agriculture. When we farm, we essentially decide that this piece of land is ours, and we declare a kind of “war” on anything other than what will serve us. We kill for the sake of our plans for the future. We judge what lives and what dies. In this way, we play god.
   Here’s the really interesting part: any population increases to consume its food source. And while this is debated, it’s still fundamentally true. The other side of this is that land is finite. It will run out. As much as the population might seem intelligent, it’s another level of intelligence to see that there is a difference between real laws and what we tend to call laws. Our general laws are basically agreements, or social contracts. Anyone can kill anyone else. This proves nothing. If I don’t kill you in your sleep, you agree not to kill me. If either one of us breaks this agreement, consequences are invoked.  
   But a real law cannot be broken for example the law of gravity, or aerodynamics. This population/food relationship is real law.  

   And we broke it.

   So maybe you see where I’m going with this (and if you wisely read Daniel Quinn, you know it’s not just me). We ought not judge. We simply cannot know everything. Therefore, we will be wrong.  

   What if we started there?

   What if you live your life simply not judging? I mean judge whether or not you want to eat that berry, or where that suit. But stop judging others. Or at least if you find that you are, recognize that you are, and stop. Forgive yourself for being rash and then let go, live and let live. Speak only qualified statements. Then listen. Pretend you’re having a conversation with a god, and watch how fast life will lift. The quicker we simply get out of our own ways, the faster we might take off.  

   We stifle each other with our stories and selective sympathies. It takes time to convey our experiences and essences. As humans our only asset is our connections and ability to manipulate our environment, but it takes lifetimes to learn even what little we do, and we get so mixed up in such trifle treasures. I believe it’s time to talk about how we can all proceed, sustainably, and contractually recognize that we all know only one thing, and that is the fact that we cannot know. Feel that. Let it wash over you and take your sadness for any past and worry for any future with it. Breathe in deeply and exhale all judgement out. 

   Now open your eyes. 

Apocalypse No!

   More and more I keep hearing people resigned that "the world is ending" from Lady Gaga's portion of the Superbowl halftime show, to the increasingly absurd dichotomies in the United States' politics, to the doomsayers regarding nuclear proliferation, climate change, and AI.  I'm no one to talk honestly because I've been internally obsessed with impending apocalypse for almost as long as I can remember.  At 51, I see now the wisdom in blurring my focus, living in the moment, and trusting only in how much I don't know.  But we really do manifest what we focus on, and it's obviously time to change direction.

   We need to focus on the sustainable.

   When I was a kid, I bought a book of Nostradamus' Prophesies.  It included the original French which I studied in school so it was a kind of practice to really delve into these, but it also the English translations so I could check my work.  I remember the dread I felt as I read how the "city of hollow mountains" would "plunge" into a "cauldron."  This was years before the World Trade Center sunk.

   I was obsessed with the notion that I would witness an inescapable impending ubiquitous disaster.   I spent hours in those and other pages like those.  I traded the depression of my youth for the anxiety of my adult life and rarely landed in a moment except when I taught something useful to a student or wrote something touching to another soul.  The only thing to ever even slightly assuage my fears was my Granny telling me a story.  She said that she remembered when she was a little girl, that she and her mother were walking in Times Square and one of those men with the signs and the bells was ringing and loudly proclaiming that the end was near.  My Granny, then a little girl tugged on her mother's skirt and said "Mommy, do you think that's true?  Is the end of the world coming?"

   Granny, youngest in her family, told me that her mom's face sunk darkly.  She glanced at that man, stopped, and leaned down on her knees for a moment.  That's when Granny's mom, my great grandmother,  thought about it and slowly shook her head and admitting that it was possible.  It sometimes seemed inevitable and one could never know for sure.  Perhaps the end of the world was coming.  "But you know something?" she said, "I just don't think so."

   "Why?" my nervous little Granny asked as doubt betrayed her entire countenance.  

   "Because as much as it could be, that we never know?  Men have been yelling and ringing bells like that since I was your age."

   I now have 2 beautiful teenage boys, and a niece, almost 22, struggling to find places in this world.  A mic drop moment like that rarely lands with any of them, (They'd never read this) so I try to keep my own spirits up and do as best I can to tend to theirs.  I teach literacy to middle and high school kids from low income neighborhoods in the South Bronx.  I'm an Xer possibly about to escape by the skin of my teeth from a tier 6 death sentence only 2 years late from a life's work as a public school teacher, despite starting as a public high school drop out.  And I'm 28 years into a love union that was literally illegal when we first met.  

   I've seen the world embrace love and hope, and I've seen the world endure danger and trepidation.  It's true that the only thing that doesn't change is change.  But when I say we must manifest a different direction, I mean more than that fact that we cause our circumstances as consequences.  And I mean more than we create our own reality.  I mean it's time to know this is all everything and all of us.  

   Every child we dismiss as a shame, - unloved, accidental, or expendable; every meal we consume some tortured animal; even every microbe we exterminate with poisons to protect the crops we clear for our exploding population - unsustainable.  It's easy to sink into a boiling cauldron of despair, or freeze from excessive escape fueled by rampant anxiety.  What can one do and how much do we hate the ones who don't love, and... But, we could also just stop.

   I've seen that too.  We've all seen the world stop spinning the same metaphorical discs on sticks.  There was a time when streets were quiet, until uniformingly rauctous with applause for the few we relied on and commended for bravery that killed no one.  Perhaps the men with the footballs won't blow up the world if they have any reason for hope.  Perhaps we can impart that to each other in ways that are just as genuine, eclectic and plentiful.  Perhaps, if we just hang on a little longer, explore our own hearts, and beliefs with openness and honesty, we'll communicate pure intentions and complete, sustainable designs for a future.  

   If we do that, perhaps that will be the wisdom we pass to the next species we empower, and they will convey to their youngest dependents the notion that it could indeed all end, but it might not.  And that would be a nice story.

Representation Matters

As crazy as this world currently is I’m filled of love and gratitude for what I believe is a rolling momentum toward progress. I try to keep abreast of all narratives, especially in this dichotomous and often toxic culture, but as a Gen Xer, I have seen many decades now and lived most of them out and proud. And as much as things ebb and flow regarding progress, representation has evolved, and that alone will help in ways you just might not really forsee yet.

For example, (and FYI spoilers do lie ahead) as the world watched the finale of Stranger Things, it came as no surprise to most of us that Will Byers was gay. My alerts went off in the first episode as Will’s attention to Mike was palpable. The show’s thematic nuances to the 1980s Montauk Project mysteries resonated close to my own little NYC queer heart, and spotting that unrequited love and attention was second nature years ago.  But who cares? Gay characters are peppered throughout most media these days, right? Maybe these things mattered back when it was mainstream Ellen or Roseanne Barr’s averted lesbian kiss, but we all watch our own channels now. It’s hard to even find a movie I can get the kids to sit through without their scrolling through You Tube at some point during a monologue or slow pan.

What struck me in the Stranger Things finale was how it felt for me to watch Will deal with the fact that he knew Mike was straight. It feels insane to go through that alone, and to be mixed up with feelings of love and friendship - it can ruin all support systems in a flash. It can hurt to the core and it can make you really angry. And just like Will said - it can turn a person’s heart.  In case you didn’t know, it’s our hearts are truly steer our lives.

Watching and recognizing that conundrum happen on screen in a setting I recognized as familiar, and hearing Will say that he knew it was his issue, but that he would be alright. It felt like a release.  Really, watching a representative of your deepest feelings navigate those feelings successfully - that can be everything.

Just like Will we are out of our closets. Republicans don’t care who we sleep with. Maybe some might still believe representation turns people, but those are definitely the ones who are already repressed. Everyone knows who Mitch McConnell is really interested in and why he’s so bent on oppressing it. Sure we have value problems but it’s hard to argue 10% or the planet is just wrong.

You really can’t stop knowledge and representation. Heated Rivary hit HBO Max with a vengeance QAF (Queer as Folk) left as a wake decades ago. Only this time, it influenced the real world directly and immediately. Hockey player Jess Kortuem credited the series with inspiring his outing just days ago. And discussion regarding the complexities of cultural and political homophobia resonating from a differently-abled and Russian hockey player relationship are unfolding at water coolers as we all strive to discuss something that doesn’t make us furious or terrified.

We all need to take a breath. Find what you’re grateful for. Build from there. Stranger Things was almost a great finale. And ours doesn’t have to be on its way.