Mindfulness is bloody hard

This is one of the most difficult concepts for me to not argue against. What do meeeeaaaannnn I’m not my thoughts and feelings?!? Of course I am! Oh wait, thank gods I’m not. With a brain that runs a hundred directions at once, really, thank gods I am not.

My essence, my love that is life force, the whatsit in us that drives and powers all that is, I know are not my thoughts and feelings. It is so much more and so much less than the story in my head. In those sparse and atm rare moments that I remember this, I find peace within.

Overt or Covert – it’s all racism, and it’s in all our corners

We have a lot of covert racism where I live. Not because I live in the the worst city ever, but because racism is everywhere. We have a lot of overt racism, too – even by long time TV anchors – who exhibit blatant racist thinking and benevolent racist thinking.

The above linked news story has created a lot of conversation in social media. On FB people are coming out of the woodwork to defend or rail against the TV anchor. Many of the defenders are trying to be aware and clued in, and still end up being wrong, deluded, and/or engaging in racist thinking. This is particularly evident when they take up along geographical lines.

So many want to believe that their area of choice to live, or their birth city, or their adopted city is so much better than [where they used to live/everywhere else]. And you know what? Your favourite place isn’t spared from being racist because it exists within a country that has systemic racism. You are not spared from being racist even if you’re an aware, clued in white person. You can mitigate the effects, you can consciously choose appropriate words and actions, but we live in a racist society, built on white supremacy, and nobody gets a pass.

You see folks from the North and South making generalizations about those who live on the other side of the Mason-Dixon line. Those generalizations are mostly unfavourable to the other. We love to engage in othering people we perceive as lesser than. And we’re all a bunch of deluded liars because white privilege and racism are institutionalized. I live in the North – being on “the right side of the Civil War” was a big thing in elementary school. The North was on the winning side, not morally superior side. In the South they taught it was only about state’s rights and who doesn’t want that in a Republic? The South was on the losing side, not the indignantly altruistic side. As if one side was more or less than racist than the other. Not so, as evidenced by the prevalence of racism today. Divisive stone throwing hurts the cause of dismantling the system of racism. It is a distraction, used to either center the assumed “good alliness” of a city or region over those other people who are racist, or to derail the conversation entirely. Again racism is everywhere. You cannot escape, only mitigate.

Overt versus covert racism, which is better? The obvious answer is neither, but folks who engage in the covert variety like to think they are less racist. Overt racism such as using racial and ethnic slurs and crossing the street when you see a brown or black person walking toward you is pretty easy to spot. Covert racism, where you don’t use use the slurs because it isn’t polite and you don’t cross the street but you do pull your bag in closer (even if you realize what you’re doing and release your grip) is harder to detect, but it is still rooted in racist thinking. And it isn’t “better racism”, or “less racist”. It is not non-racist behaviour.

Covert racism holds in its grasp the polite racist, too. My dad was the ultimate polite racist, abstaining from using racist and ethnic slurs in conversation. We didn’t “use those words” because it wasn’t polite, not because they weren’t true. In private he certainly believed they were true, even without using the slurs, but he didn’t say them because manners. Manners were the most important thing. And my dad was considered a nice guy, friendly, would help you out of a jam regardless of race, but still he was a racist. Period. He just was. I fight the racist thinking I was raised with. I try to mitigate the effects of the society I live in every day. That doesn’t mean I’ve eradicated it all and can easy-breeze through all of my days. If I ever think that then I’m lying to myself. I’d like for white people to stop lying to themselves about racism.

The difference one sees from city to city and region to region is generally a difference in covert and overt racism. That isn’t to say that some places aren’t better than others. They absolutely are. But in pockets not swaths. And nowhere in this country is it free of racism. Maybe folks could keep that in mind when they get on their geographical high horses. That would be nice.


“Some things never change” may be a inescapable mantra

So here’s a thing about me. I don’t particularly care about personal opinions and pet causes (even at times my own) when it comes to trying to figure out how to, and the best course of action to, shift the energy for change.
“Who is your audience? Who holds a lot of power for change?” Those are my first questions. Follow up questions surround how to get those folks on board to help shift things. A fast and easy rule for me is to not alienate those people over an opinion I hold that in the grand scheme means not much at all. I realize this is a “how I think about it” thing and not universal by any means.
In the last 24 hours I’ve been in two completely unrelated discussions that show me how clearly I diverge from other passionate people about this perspective. That’s fine, we all have our own filters that drive our actions. Actions being driven from multiple points of view are part of the same whole of the engine that brings change, this is a good thing. I just hadn’t realized that what feels like a yet-again-scenario, is one more point at which I diverge from many folks.
Frankly, I’m a bit weary of discovering areas where I’m the odd one out. When I find the rare places where my thoughts don’t put me in that place I am relieved and grateful. Hey Universe! I’d like more of those places, please!

100,000 times!

Within minutes of arising I got the sensation in my nose of inhaling a bug. It is winter weather come early to Pittsburgh, causing windows to be shut tight and furnaces to run in October. Sure, a summer bug could have survived 2 nights of the freeze, seeking refuge in the warmth, and then been annihilated by a mere sniff. It seems unlikely as I see them dancing their annoyingly unsmackable rhythm in front of my eyes first, as a rule. That YOU-WILL-SNEEZE-NOW tickle is what I got first thing this morning, regardless of why.

And then I sneezed 100,000 times in a row. Yes, I wrote that. You weren’t here, you didn’t count them. ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND SNEEZES. It was awful. They were so forceful the hubster side-eyed me with fear, thinking I might sneeze up some innards, and nobody wants to clean that up.

I blew my nose 23,000 times. Yes, twenty-three thousand times; yes, I counted. Prove I didn’t. An hour and a half later it was safe to walk more than 5 feet from the Kleenex box. For a minute I wondered if I was getting a cold. Colds start further back IIRC, and I may not recall correctly. Memories of how colds start are not as easy as counting to 100,000.

Regardless, real or not, that gnat is dead.

Ah Sundays – the day where you can so thoroughly contemplate the complex doings of your left nostril and it is okay.