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On Friday, they showed a Sierra Club video about mountain top removal and then asked us to split into small groups to discuss our reactions. I admitted to my partner that I didn't feel much of anything at all except a reaffirmation that it is a huge task in front of us to fix this world and usually I have trouble believing that it will actually happen. I just act like I believe and hope that will be enough to fake it til I make it. On Saturday, Brian Mitchell, one of the speakers for the local panel echoed my thoughts and that made me feel better about my lack of indignance: "It's really hard to engage with that emotionally because then I'd have to do something." This was also echoed a little but in one of the prayers written on the butcher paper taped to the walls: "Why do I keep hitting snooze?" I ask myself that every morning. I have a feeling of absolute certainty that another 9 minutes is the best possible thing I can do for myself or the clarity with which I believe that if I turn the alarm off, I'll be able to simply lie in bed for 5 more minutes and then get up. This feeling is a pretty good metaphor for my occasional bouts of urgency that I must change my life now or I won't be living with integrity. But then I see a perfect sweater for $13 at Banana Republic or want to take my leftovers home when the only option is a styrofoam container. I fall back asleep.
But later, a woman shared that she had seen a sticker on the RedEye dispenser in her neighborhood that read: "I can't accept this narrative anymore" and I thought, "Hey, at least Ms. Sticker and I have alarm clocks." It reminded me of the "You are beautiful" stickers I see all over, stuck on garbage cans and bike racks. They make me smile every time, though they have no credibility unless one believes that everyone is beautiful. My involuntary smile and fuzzy feelings are like proof that I do believe that everyone is beautiful and discovering that I possess a belief like that makes the day better, like finding a $20 in the pocket of the coat you put on for the first time in a season.
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2 comments:
i have loved hearing about this conference, and in particular seeing some candid shots of you, old friend!
in particular, i think i was struck by your "take that" to the high school cafeteria. it got me thinking--i was in the same cafeteria, having the same heartbreak and certain that you were nestled in with Doug and Dan and whoever else was smart and funny and wonderful, and so hopelessly awkward and afraid and tied up in my own navel-gazing knots that i'm not sure i could have found you or anyone like you (except nicola, God bless her).
it made me sad.
i guess that's all for now, and maybe a better email than a blog comment...! *sigh* it's here, and i'm leaving it.
my teeth look so BIG in that last picture!
imagining with you. embracing you and our new friendship. so much fo what you shared i resonate with. still there is this fire in my belly, burning inside and wanting oxygen. much like your desire to wake up.
thought of you today as i picked up a Redeye for the first time in ages. Common was on the cover, i couldn't help myself.
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