I’m sad happy
Dash said last night, “I’m happy. Sad happy.” In my own way I feel the sorrow of growing, of seeing, of learning. On the one hand I’ve met profoundly committed people since 2008, people who put their lives on hold and sometimes never get back to them because they discover an injustice in our society and they want to expose it, right it. And I’ve also met people who have sold their souls to the extent they seem to be mind controlled, and I’ve encountered and even been taken by people who I consider evil, in that they steal from you knowing it’s your last dime.
I have a nervous sense about the world, I try to spin my feelings to positivity, and I do, but there is something gnawing at my mind. It’s as if the biggest tsunami is yet to come. So many people I talk to cannot sleep, young and old, we feel there is an agenda being played out that benefits only a few, crafty individuals. But no one I listen to agrees on the agenda or the culprits, although the outcome will be the same. A loss of freedom, a loss of humanity, an almost unbearable burden to carry. Or, is it an awakening?
Are we living the predictions of so many religions’ from thousands of years, that we will have destruction and chaos on a scale never before known, and then a coming of some spiritual leader, and peace? After all, billions of thoughts and prayers over all these centuries have made it so, even if it weren’t necessarily so to begin with. Can we undo the destruction and chaos part with fervent prayers and incantations of love and light? Or do we just observe, prepare for the worst and hope for the best?
What makes it different for me is the person that says, “I’m happy. Sad happy”. I want his childhood to be a childhood, as magical as Peter Pan, as original as the boy himself. I feel the man at the helm of America is as invested in our success as Lily Tomlin’s telephone company was invested in service, “we don’t care and we don’t have to.” That used to be funny, but it’s an attitude that pervades everyday life so much that we’ve become defiantly impersonal.
I treasure moments of real connection, not Internet connection. I muse that Dash is the only person I know who’s not always on the phone. We still have an eighteenth century relationship reading together, painting, walking, talking, laughing, cooking, playing and eating. I am so lucky to experience this, and it’s come late enough in my existence that I know how much it’s worth. I curse death and destruction. I want to hold onto life, the goodness, the simplicity of life, more than ever.
The concept of leadership has become meaningless in this world; I wouldn’t follow a government official to the bathroom. We need to find leadership within ourselves, even in the way we think about ourselves. Are we victims, are we pioneers, are we trail blazers, are we “me tooers”, are we blamers, or do we take responsibility? Do we shame other people for exploring; do we need to belong so badly we stop telling ourselves the truth?
The answer is not in followers, a true leader leads even when there are no followers brave enough to go there. Harriet Tubman said, “I could have saved more is they’d known they were slaves”. I don’t think we’ve known we are free.
I’ll never forget Bill Clinton saying at the democratic convention, speaking over the standing ovation that wouldn’t end, “It’s gonna be a hard fight to win against John McCain, because he LOVES this country.” I nudged the person next to me with tears in my eyes, “he’s giving us a signal”, I said.
Bill Clinton made us leaders, he inspired us to open up, even those who disliked him, and find new levels of wanting to be great. In retrospect, although in very different ways, Reagan did he same. Obama talks about winning the future, but I feel he’s stealing it. Perhaps he’s just a representation, a puppet of a master I don’t want to worship. Remember Bowie’s “The man who sold the world”? Now I would say it’s the man who stole the world, and compared to him, our president is just a petty thief.