"are we too blind to see..."

"People, don't you understand,
the child needs a helping hand;
or he'll grow to be
an angry young man some day?

Take a look at you and me
are we too blind to see?
Do we simply turn our heads,
and look the other way?"

I was up most of the night in self-examination and on-my-knees reflection. How?  Why?  What can I do to make a difference? Every solution to a collective issue has to start with an individual change of heart. I fell asleep -- with more questions than answers.

When I woke this morning, it was a verse from Elvis Presley's  "In the Ghetto" that just filled my heart. And I knew. I knew that there was something I could do.

This song was written just shy of 50 years ago. I remember how sad it made me feel at the time, but I also remember thinking that it had no relevance for me. That was, until two years later. My dad had passed on suddenly, everyone that I thought might help my mother and I raise my younger siblings disappeared as soon as the memorial service was over.  And I couldn't separate my grief from the anger I felt knowing that my life -- as I knew it -- was over. That grief and anger seemed so inextricably linked.

When I "heard" Elvis' song in my heart this morning, I was perplexed.  Why was this suddenly playing on an endless mental loop.  That was, until I read an article about Nicolas Cruz (the Florida school shooter) that broke me into a million little pieces. Nicolas, and his younger brother, were adopted as infants. In 2005 his dad died suddenly and his mother became a single mom who was devoted to her sons - hoping to compensate for the boys being raised by a single parent, according to the boys' aunt. Last winter, she passed away suddenly.

I can only imagine the devastation of losing both of your parents and having a younger brother to worry about. Who stepped in? Who provided the love, comfort, and support that may have made all the difference in the way this young man processed his grief -- grief that is often conflated with anger. What organizations stepped in to provide a sense of family, community, support? A church, or a hate-group looking for recruits.

Instead of finding the spiritual tools for dismantling his grief, he was given access to a weapons-based culture, and his anger was stoked into devouring flames. So, what does this have to do with me -- with us?

When my dad passed away, my sense of where feelings of grief ended and anger began -- were so confusing. One day I was deeply sad. An hour later I would be on the verge of suicide. The next moment, I was so angry I couldn't function. And in the middle of it all, I was still a child working three jobs in order to help raise my siblings. Emotions swirled and I didn't have the time, or the tools, to sort them out. Instead of taking it out on others, I took it out on myself. Anorexia, bulimia, self-harm, mis-directed social choices -- anything to distract me from the heartbreak of it all.

This post is not a justification for the actions of Nicolas Cruz. What he did is incomprehensible. But this is not about him, it is about us. What can we do -- going forward? How can we stem the tides of bitterness and inhumanity that we see in these domestic acts of terrorism -- not just in school shootings, but family disputes, work-place sexual harassments and assaults, online bullying. There is a wonderful song from Rogers and Hammerstein's South Pacific. It often corrects and alters my course of thought, words, and actions. The first time I heard  "You've Got to Be Taught"  - as a child - I knew it was true. I believe that loving others is the most natural state of being for a child.

Last week, our high school Sunday School class talked about The Golden Rule. We discussed how there is an version of its primal message in every major (and minor) world religion, practice, and philosophy.

We also talked about what the world would be like if we practiced this rule: "do unto others as you have them do unto you," moment-by-moment every day.  If it were the guiding principle of every parent, child, neighbor, community leader, political party, government, global initiative.  If it governed every choice and decision we made -- every action and interaction with others.

Then we talked about how we could begin to more effectively practice this Golden Rule in our own lives. We considered how - like "the butterfly effect" - every act of kindness and generosity could shift the mental molecules in the universe so that someone's heart is softened, encouraged, reformed --  and down the road, perhaps a poor choice is averted.

In her primary work on spiritual healing, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy states:

"If we would open their prison doors for the sick,
we must first learn to bind up the broken-hearted.
If we would heal by the Spirit, we must not hide
the talent of spiritual healing under the napkin
of its form, nor bury the morale of Christian Science
in the grave-clothes of its letter.

"The tender word and Christian encouragement of
an invalid, pitiful patience with his fears and
the removal of them, are better than hecatombs
of gushing theories, stereotyped borrowed speeches,
and the doling of arguments, which are but
so many parodies on legitimate Christian Science,
aflame with divine Love."

This passage has meant so much to me today. It has been a rebuke, an encouragement, and a comfort. It has brought hope that there is something I can do - right now - to shift the way someone sees themselves and their sense of belonging in the world.

I can be kind. I can be alert. I can be the person who notices. I can be the person who stopped in my tracks and put another's needs above my own desire to tick off another item from my to do list. I can listen when I feel like talking. I can hold space for someone without an agenda. I can hold someone in their moment of confused grief and anger -- without feeling like I need to fix them. I can comfort without becoming their Comforter. I can silently affirm that God is there, and that we are not alone in our moment of Love, reflecting love.

This has been a wake-up call for me -- again. When I was looking for the above-linked version of Elvis' song, I came across another video that I'd filed for periodic referral. Casting Crowns'  "Does Anybody Hear Her?"  walks with me wherever I go. I hope it reaches you where you are. Whether you are the lonely or the busy, angry or afraid, the heartbroken or the good Samaritan today -- please let it in.

What Nikolas Cruz did is tragic.  What we do with this moment is filled with opportunity.  There will be 18 families with broken hearts.  Nikolas' younger brother Zachary will be one of them.  Will we stop the heartbreak -- wherever it is found, or will we continue to "simply turn our heads and look the other way?"

offered with Love,

Kate

"if not now, tell me when..."

"it will take
a change of heart
for this to mend,
but miracles do happen
every shining now and then,
if not now,
tell me when..."

I spent a week grieving. Then I realized it was time to accept the gift of this moment in history.  To embrace the opportunities we have to be emboldened by love.

When I want a musical kick-in-the-bumm, I turn to Carrie Newcomer. She always reminds me that self-indulgence is not allowed in the heart of a spiritual warrior. I love her recording of "If Not Now." It reminds me that "everything that happens -- happens not to us, but for us."

I needed this reminder. I was on the verge of doing what we nesting creatures do. I wanted to pull into my shell, hide under the covers, slip beneath the wings of someone wiser.

But only for a while. And it was there in the silence, and in the remembering of who I am and what I am capable of accomplishing in service to my God and His children. I found the courage to do something more. I could build nests. I could be someone who quietly gathers the discarded bits and forgotten pieces of this  movement, and builds a safe place for the incubation of dreams.

This doesn't need to be a time of disappointment, but greater appointment. We have been called into this moment for a holy purpose. And it is upon this landscape of stark realization -- that there are millions of people hurting and angry --  that we can find our voice. There is a song to be sung, a message to deliver, a gift to give. And we are that gift. As Scripture assures us:

"prove me now herewith,
saith the Lord of hosts,
if I will not open you
the windows of heaven,
and pour you out a blessing,
that there shall not be
room enough to receive it..." 

Will there ever be a time like this one? A time when kindness stands out in such stark relief against the backdrop of hate. A time when clear integrity is seen in a sea of gray uncertainty. A time when acceptance - based on impartial, and universal Love - is felt where bigotry lurks in the darkness. This is our time. This is our calling.

Recently someone asked me if I didn't feel the hand of an earlier doctrine of racial-purging, religious registry, and white nationalism reaching into this time. Yes, I have -- the comparisons are pretty insidious. But we are not the people of that time. We are wiser, more aware, and we are empowered by what we now know - about where this kind of thinking leads. And we are ready to say "no."

In her collection of addresses, articles, and letters titled Miscellaneous Writings 1888 - 1896, Mary Baker Eddy writes:

"Be “of one mind,”
“in one place,”
and God will pour you
out a blessing such as you
never before received.
He who dwelleth in eternal light
is bigger than the shadow..." 

This is our time. This is our "now." We can be of one mind in this place. We can unite in the Principle of all unity -- Love.   Or as Kahlil Gibran writes:

""In friendship, or in love,
two, side-by-side, raise hands together
to find what one cannot reach alone." 

Whether we are marching in peaceful protest, creating sanctuary cities, refusing to let our Muslim neighbors register alone, or dancing, praying, petitioning and singing our love -- we are not alone. We are in this time together. We will not hide. We will love boldly and courageously.

I love thinking of this statement from Eddy as a benediction on our place in this historic hour:

"There is with us at this hour this great, a great blessing;
and may I say with the consciousness of Mind
that the fulfilment of divine Love in our lives
is the demand of this hour — the special demand..." 

We are not being imposed upon by hatred, hatred has been exposed by Love. The demands that are being made upon us are the demands of Love. Love is asking us to shine like stars against the backdrop of a midnight sky. Love is demanding that we step up and be counted.  Darkness cannot hide the light. This is our time to be the light of Love. To shine. To be our most brilliant selves. To be a candle in the storm.


offered with Love,

Kate

"kindness matters…."

"In the end,
only kindness matters..."

What we behold -- what we focus on, and call another's attention to -- matters. Yesterday I was overwhelmed by the volume of unkindness I was observing on Facebook.  Sarcastic jokes, cynicism, and outright mean-spiritedness in posts, shared links, and comments. It seemed as if there was a moratorium on basic human kindness. Jewell's "Hands," came to the rescue again.

Over and over again that one line, "in the end, only kindness matters," flooded my heart. How many times have I been saved by its reminder.  Even when I've felt justified in rebutting something posted that I believed was untrue or unwarranted, I have been led to ask myself, "Is what you are thinking of doing kind?" If it's not, then I know I will regret it.  Kindness -- doing unto others as we would have them do unto us -- always wins the day.

And yet, there seems to be an unwritten rule that if we believe someone has made a mistake, done something regrettable, or admitted a wrong, we have every right to call attention to it, publish remarks about it, and repost the negative opinions of experts, pundits, or journalists.

But isn't this just what Jesus addresses when the woman who was "caught in the very act" is brought to him for judgment and eventual stoning. At first he tries to stay out of the verbal and punitive fray. When asked to weigh in on the moral wrongness of her mistakes, he stoops down and writes in the dust. But when pushed to respond, he says, "He who is without sin among you, cast the first stone."

He doesn't say, "He he who has never committed this particular sin, cast the first stone." But any sin.  It's so easy to see sin in terms of a hierarchy of offense. As long as we think someone else's offense is worse than our own, we seem to feel fully justified in calling attention to it.  But isn't this act of publishing of someone's failings, the same as casting a stone at them.

And isn't this what the Master absolutely refuses to do. Even after everyone who has felt the condemnation of his own conscience leaves the square without casting a stone at the woman, Jesus himself assures her, "Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more." Go, and no longer feel separate from God's love, direction, protection, guidance, discipline, and care.

I have made mistakes in my life. And I have felt the stones of harsh criticism and cold disdain hit me squarely between my shoulder blades. I have known the sorrow of feeling misunderstood and judged for my mistakes. Those were lonely days.  But, I have also heard the invitation to cozy up with the jeering crowd, take aim, and toss a stone or two myself. And I have to tell you, nothing is more sickening than hearing the thud of gossip against the back of someone's reputation or peace-of-mind.

The stone lifted - and cast - is heavy. It weighs down the heart of the one who lifts and throws it. And don't be fooled. Just because our modern stones don't break bones, it doesn't mean that they don't break hearts.

Yesterday I saw something posted about a public figure that was so cruel and ugly, it -- quite literally -- made me nauseous. It was shocking to me that anyone would want to publicly attach themselves to unkindness. And sadly, it was posted by someone I respect and care deeply about. I was baffled -- it seemed incompressible to me.  I just couldn't understand why. I contacted my friend, who said, "well, it was based on something that actually did happen." 

Ah yes, "caught in the very act."

Well,  if "caught in the very act," wasn't enough justification for Jesus to join in throwing stones -- why has it become so for us? Do we think that we are contributing to the public good by calling attention to someone's failings? I am sure that the crowd in the public square that day, thought they were protecting the sanctity of their community values by stoning the adulteress and setting a public example. But Jesus didn't buy it, so why should we?

Do we think it makes us look clever, well-informed, or wise to remind the world of another's mistakes or failings? Is it okay because these people are just symbols to us -- symbols of culture, society, government, commerce? It reminds me of the young man on trial for the attempted murder of a classmate.  He said that he'd learned all about shooting-to-kill in a video game.  And that because the characters aren't real, it doesn't really hurt them. He said that after a few moments, they just get up and the game continues.

But, this is not a game. Our public figures, celebrities, the community member we watch from a distance, and then stone for their mistakes and faltering steps -- are real people. They have feelings, and families, and friendships.

Aren't we better than the self-righteous crowd in the square - standing with stone in hand. Just because someone has been "caught in the very act," doesn't mean we can't be true to who we are and respond with respect, humanity, kindness, and grace.  We have the right to our spiritual integrity -- our focus on good, our contribution to healing, and to blessing "even our enemies."  Another's behavior doesn't justify our retreat into a mob mentality of casting aspersions or stones.

When we carry those stones around in our hearts -- they weigh us down. Put them down.  Instead, let's seek out - and call attention to - the good in humanity. Let's focus on something worthy of our time, energy and devotion. 

You know, I don't believe I have ever decided to not be-friend, vote for, or welcome into my heart someone because I had read, or heard, a negative item of news or gossip about them. I can't imagine you have either.

Let's follow Jesus.  Let's refuse to get caught up in a season of stoning.  Let's turn our attention to the enduring, the good, and the true in ourselves and others. Let's appreciate what is beautiful, honest and humane in society, and watch it appreciate -- grow in value -- before our eyes. This is putting on the mantle of kindness.

And in the end, only kindness matters.

offered with Love,

Kate

"You may say that I'm a dreamer..."

"Imagine all the people,
Living life in peace....

You may say that I'm a dreamer
but I'm not the only one.
I hope someday you will join us,
and the world can live as one."

I love this original  John and Yoko video for "Imagine."   It is a song that I believe speaks to an imperative promise...and not a distant dream.  Poet and lyricist, William Knapp once wrote,

"The one far-off divine event is now. 
And that event is Love."

Today, these are the thoughts I am holding to in defense of my heart...and the collective heart of humanity. 

Gunfire at a community event, anger across the dinner table, violent wretching over the toilet...intolerance for the views of "the other side", misunderstanding, self-loathing, complaint, criticisim, judgment.  Enough!! 

There was a time when "all the world"...or at least almost everyone I knew...told me that I had every right to be hurt, angry, to give up, feel bereaved, and seek redress. 

I remember thinking, "How is it that their love for me is giving them (my loved ones) permission to be so unlike themselves. To be so unlike the incredibly generous, compassionate, kind, and loving people they are by their very nature as children of God."

I then realized, that I had to love them enough to NOT believe that this kind of empathy was what I needed.  I remember thinking that it was my own belief in my need for "sympathy" that was the back door to "symptoms" of depression, hopelessness, heart-ache, and fear-based agony about the future.

The second stanza of Mary Baker Eddy's poem, "The New Century" (found in her slim volume Poems, became my constant companion:

"'Tis writ on earth, on leaf and flower:
Love hath one race, one realm, one power.
Dear God! how great,
how good Thou art.
To heal humanity's sore heart;
To probe the wound, then pour the balm -
A life perfected, strong and calm.
The dark domain of pain and sin
Surrenders - Love doth enter in,
And peace is won,
and lost is vice:
Right reigns, and blood was not its price."

Yesterday I found the tattered slip of yellowed notebook paper I had written this snippet of poetry on in 1988.  I'd carried it tucked into the back of a journal that I used for recording my thoughts. During a particularly aggressive bout with self-pity, I'd turned to it often, fingering its soft folds and letting the strength of its admonition steel my resolve.  I've carried it in my heart...memorized like a Psalm...ever since. 

I realized then, and again now, that when Love enters the wounded space...the heart, the head, the home....peace is won, God reigns, and our lives are no longer broken, shattered, shaken, or violated, but more tender, softened, supple, and rich with compassion, mercy, and grace.

This slip of a Psalm is back in the front pocket of my heart today....I will caress it in my prayers.

with love and hope...
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

"Love has one race, one realm, one power..."

"Now is the time approaching,
By prophets long foretold,
When all shall dwell together,
One Shepherd and one fold.
Now Jew and Gentile, meeting
From many a distant shore,
Around one altar kneeling,
One common Lord adore.

Let all that now divides us
Remove and pass away,
Like shadows of the morning
Before the blaze of day.
Let all that now unites us
More sweet and lasting prove,
A closer bond of union,
In a blest land of love."
- J.W. Elliott

The following second stanza from "The New Century" found in Mary Baker Eddy's small volume of published poetry, Poems, is singing through my heart today.  I will let it speak in "eloquent silence" to each of you:

"...Tis writ on earth, on leaf and flower:
Love hath one race, one realm, one power.
Dear God! how great, how good Thou art
To heal humanity's sore heart;
To probe the wound, then pour the balm —
A life perfected, strong and calm.
The dark domain of pain and sin
Surrenders — Love doth enter in,
And peace is won, and lost is vice:
Right reigns, and blood was not its price."

-Mary Baker Eddy

Kate

"...nobody's right if everybody's wrong..."

"…There's battle lines being drawn,
And nobody's right if everybody's wrong.
Young people speaking there minds,
And getting so much resistance from behind.

It's time we stop, hey what's that sound,
Everybody look what's going down…"
-Stephen Stills

As I watch candidates and voters in farming communities and cities across Iowa preparing for tonight's caucuses I can't help but remember my own early forays into the world of political campaigning, protest marches, and cause-specific rallies.   I loved uniting with others who were passionate about social justice and deeply committed to what we believed.  We were right…well, actually we were left…but either right or left, we were right…right?   Most importantly at the time we, at least, thought we were right.  And if we were right, everyone who didn't agree with us, who didn't hold similar positions on policy…were wrong.  Right?  It got very confusing.

I still love the fellowship of a shared vision for social change, justice and reform, but an epiphany I had almost fifteen years ago altered the way I approach "campaigning".

It was late Spring of 1994 and a small band of men and women from selected cities across the United States had been invited to a retreat near the ocean.  For the most part we came without question.  We came because we believed in a message,  and we shared a vision for how to better disseminate that message to a larger audience.  Little did we know, although most of us intuited, that the demands of carrying out that mission and the resistance we would face in doing so, would be great.  Before long, campaigns were launched in each of the cities we represented to rally opposition.  The key points in opposition to our mission and focus were echoing through the chambers of thought and spreading like wildfire through a late summer field of prairie grass.

Soon meetings were being organized for each of the cities in question. It was our hope that through these meetings we could control the blaze.  Our intent was to provide a forum for addressing known objections, while also providing each city's point person with a platform for answering some of the questions, misinformation, and concerns with relevant facts.  We hoped that this would free us up from the constant need to correct misunderstandings about our mission,  and allow us to better carry out our objectives.  So that our messages - from city to city - were consistent, talking points were developed and conference calls scheduled so that we were all speaking with one voice.

As the date for our first informational meeting drew closer I found myself going over and over those talking points hundreds of times a day.  But a funny thing started happening.  Instead of just rehearsing the facts, I began having imaginary rejoinders with make-believe opponents.  I would imagine their objection and then I would argue, based on the developed talking points, for the rightness of my case, our mission.  These fantasy arguments always put me in the role of being right…and thus leaving anyone who objected to my position as…wrong.    Right?

One day, after a long flight to Baltimore from Denver, I found myself exhausted from what I thought was preparation for our first meeting.  I had spent the entire five hours of our flight going over those same talking points, praying for courage in facing expected resistance, and mental arguing with a fantasy opponent.  Like an athlete after a rigorous workout, I was finally ready.  But for what?   I thought it was for our first "confrontation" with the opposition (even though I didn't think I was thinking of everyone who would be coming to our meetings in those terms), but what I didn't realize was that God had other plans for me that day.

As we arrived at my friend's home she headed into the kitchen to pick up the phone which was ringing as we opened the door, and I placed my luggage on the floor at the foot of the stairs just inside the entryway.  While she took her call I placed my hand on the newel post at the bottom of the stairs and it was as if that post was connected to a hot electric wire.  A shock went through me with such force that I seemed to be stuck to the wooden post, unable to move and frozen in time.  Now, it was a beautifully carved wooden post…there was no electrical shock involved, but a phrase asserted itself with such force that I was suspended in thought, unable to shake myself free…free from a uncontrollable freefall from the heights of self-righteousness. 

The phrase that came was:

"free moral agency"

Nothing more…nothing less.  It is a term that Mary Baker Eddy uses in her writings three times (I've copied all three following this post for your reference), but this thought didn't come all tied up gently in a neatly quoted passage.  It came with the simple and direct power and force of an electrical jolt that held me suspended in time until I heard the impact of its message.  And I did.  I heard…and more importantly I felt,  these words with new meaning.  For me, the message was, "Do you not trust that each individual has an indissoluble relationship to the divine and that He alone acts as the only agent of change, the only voice of reason defining right and wrong for that individual…it is not your right to trespass on that holy ground…it is not your right, duty or privilege to convince anyone of anything.  You can share your experiences, you can share your perspectives, you can answer questions based on facts you have gathered or been given, but you must leave their conclusions as to right and wrong to God….the only one who has access the that province…the kingdom within them".  

I suddenly felt this absolute certainty that God really and truly was all-present in the hearts and minds of all "men", that He truly was the only power able to steer, control, or govern the thoughts and desires, motives and actions of anyone.  And because He is Love, I need never worry about where He will lead.   The word "moral", for me, became a word that described that sacred sanctuary of communication between God and man…a space that was inviolate and private…never to be trespassed upon, judged, or manipulated by others.

With that realization the world around me started moving again, I could hear my friend concluding her phone call and I was free.  I was free in a way I had never known before.  I didn't have to convince anyone of anything.  I didn't have to worry that they wouldn't get it, that they might misunderstand our motives, or that I was responsible for changing their minds.  In fact, the thought that I might actually say something that would change their way of thinking was laughable, ridiculous, nonsensical.  I could only be willing to share my experiences, share my perspective, share the facts that had been gathered, but I had no right to trespass on their "free moral agency" or to think of anyone as "wrong"...vs. me as "right". 

Their positions are, for them, as right as mine are for me.  I can trust any adjustments that need to be made...in either of our viewpoints or positions...to God, the only power in the universe.

So, today as I watch campaigns, rallies, marches…and yes, even caucuses…I am rejoicing in our individual  freedom to ardently express our ideas, freely share our vision, generously communicate our passion for a vision…knowing all the while that it is only God who holds sway in our hearts...and the hearts of all men, women...and children. 

On to New Hampshire!

With Love, 
Kate

Citations on "free moral agency" by Mary Baker Eddy
(bolding added for emphasis)
"If, as is indisputably true, "God is Spirit," and Spirit is
our Father and Mother, and that which it includes is all
that is real and eternal, when evil seems to predominate
and divine light to be obscured, free moral agency is lost;
and the Revelator's vision, that "no man might buy or sell,
save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the
number of his name," is imminent.

Whoever is mentally manipulating human mind, and is not gaining
a higher sense of Truth by it, is losing in the scale of moral and
spiritual being, and may be carried to the depths of perdition by
his own consent.  He who refuses to be influenced by any but the
divine Mind, commits his way to God, and rises superior to
suggestions from an evil source."

This conclusion is not an argument either for pessimism
or for optimism, but is a plea for free moral agency,
--full exemption from all necessity to obey a power that should be
and is found powerless in Christian Science. Insubordination to
the law of Love even in the least, or strict obedience
thereto, tests and discriminates between
the real and the unreal Scientist.

Woman should not be ordered to the rear,
or laid on the rack, for joining the overture of angels. 
Theologians descant pleasantly upon free moral agency;
but they should begin by admitting individual rights.
-Mary Baker Eddy

"Let the River run..."

"Let the river run,
Let all the dreamers
Wake the nation.
Come, the New Jerusalem..."
- Carly Simon

Okay, I admit it…I love Facebook.  But not for the all the reasons you may be thinking…well, maybe some of them, too.  But in addition to the social networking--staying in touch with friends from camp and from my work at the college--there is "a something more" about this site that makes me feel like I am back in the 60s and we are rallying a movement.

Take my friend Joe…he's just out of college and has such a deep and abiding commitment to social reform that he has started a green initiative "group" on Facebook.  This young man and his ideas have great potential for becoming an environmental movement of global proportion. He's found a forum for his activism that is limitless in reach.

Or consider Warren and Megan, long known for their skirmishes with the politically apathetic. They campaigned tirelessly in 2004 for Dennis Kucinich. Today they find a new meeting place to connect with those who share their "voice of reason" (and to introduce their ideas to those who may not) on this remarkably facile online social network.

On Facebook I can hear the roar of grass roots lobbying every time I log in.  I can almost feel the wet paint on my fingers as virtual placards and signs for one candidate, movement, cause, or another is painted, and posted, each day.

Part of the fun for me is to visit the pages of those causes or groups that either interest me or confuse me…and I can wander through the virtual halls of their leaders and acolytes weighing in on issues, or just quietly listening to their debates.  This is the place I go when I want to hear the cry of the people or take the pulse of the world today.  This is where I get my prayer agenda each morning.  If something is percolating in global consciousness it is may just surface here first.  If there is going to be a Woodstock today it isn't going to find its roots in a cornfield in upstate New York…no, I think it will rise from the fertile valley of Facebook where seeds of social responsibility and global ethics are sown each day.

Yesterday I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the live coverage of General Petraeus and Ambassador Crocker's visit to the Senate.  The level of political maneuvering was toxic.  The live coverage (even on NPR, a network which usually leaves me feeling informed) left me instead feeling a bit schmarmy.  I didn't know whether to trust that the questions being asked by Senators, who are also 2008 presidential hopefuls, were part of a political strategy or came from a genuine desire to bring transparency about the war to their constituency and inform them in making wise decisions.

Normally I would have just hoped that The Christian Science Monitor would help me find some perspective the next day…while I continued to pray that my hard-won sense of hope hadn't been crushed.  But instead I decided to go to Facebook and "listen" to the hearts of young activists who were thoughtful and cogent in expressing their perspectives, concerns and, yes, wise "next steps" for us as voters, global citizens...and spiritual thinkers. And, I could do it at 2 in the morning when all the coffehouses and student unions were closed for the night. Here I could find a community of political night-owls still ready for discourse and action.

Mary Baker Eddy once said that, "This age is reaching out towards the perfect Principle of things; is pushing towards perfection in art, invention, and manufacture.  Why, then, should religion be stereotyped, and we not obtain a more perfect and practical Christianity?  It will never do to be behind the times in things most essential, which proceed from the standard of right that regulates human destiny.  Human skill but foreshadows what is next to appear as its divine origin."

Facebook is one invention that I was very grateful for last night.  I love the fact that spiritual, political, global, environmental, and social activists are finding a larger forum for their rallying cry.  I am grateful that as a once-upon-a-time (heck, still) bra-burning, draft-resisting, war-protesting hippie, I can weigh in, listen up, drop in, sit in, attend a love-in, or march with these extraordinary young thinkers on a global scale every night...and not get arrested. 

To be able to watch the numbers climb as groups, set up to champion candidates, swell with supporters is invigorating.  I don't feel the loneliness I often felt in the early 70s when returning to campaign headquarters (after getting door after door slammed in my face), I found the office dark and the mimeograph machine quiet.  Student campaigners today can discover, with a click, that the rank and file of supporters has risen by the hundreds between classes.  With that kind of encouragement there is so much reason to stay the course. The calvary isn't just on its way…it has arrived!!!   I can almost hear Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Joan Baez and Bob Dylan singing in the background.   Well, actually they are...on my iTunes...isn't this a great time to be on this planet!

So, here's to Facebook, an "invention" that, for me, foreshadows the grandeur of Mind…the all-inclusiveness of Spirit.  This is a forum that knows no hierarchy and silences only that which is mean-spirited...or unkind. 

If you haven't visited this online peace movement that knows no political color, either red or blue (and I am convinced that both want peace no matter how different their approach to reaching that goal may be), ask your child or grandchild to show you.  Ask them to give you a guided tour of this virtual Washington monument pool filled with flower children….and policy-wonks, and lobbyists...and me.  And if you are a Facebook regular, feel free to "friend" me.  I'd love to get to know you…and your ideas.

"We the great and small
Stand on a star
And blaze a trail of desire
Through the dark'ning dawn.

Oh, my heart is aching.
We're coming to the edge,
Running on the water,
Coming through the fog,
Your sons and daughters.

It's asking for the taking.
Trembling, shaking.
Oh, my heart is aching.

We're coming to the edge,
Running on the water,
Coming through the fog,
Your sons and daughters.

Let the river run,
Let all the dreamers
Wake the nation.
Come, the New Jerusalem."

See you there,
Kate

Being a Verb

Four weeks ago on an early Spring Friday night we found ourselves sitting in the back of a packed college auditorium waiting to hear one of the freshest political voices of the decade. 

Barak Obama found his way to the podium as students, faculty, administrators and guests gave him a rousing ovation in obvious  admiration for his already strong legacy of thoughtful choices and decisions as a freshman Senator.

He "had me at hello"...smart, humble, clear, concise....thoughtful, purpose-driven and generous...a social advocate of the highest caliber I was ready to offer my services -  in advance -  of a 2008 bid for the presidency.

His statement on holding national office rang true with what we were experiencing of his candor and irreverence for pomp and circumstance when he said, "I don't care about the title of Senator...I don't want to be something, I want to do something."   I sat back in my very comfortable auditorium chair and had to fight to stay engaged in what he was saying...rather than spin off into my own orbit of self-examination....so I took out my PDA  and pulled up a blank memo to capture that sentence for digesting later, and went back to listening to one of the most riveting hours of nonpolitical musing on the state of education in this country that I, as a  former teacher and school principal, had heard in a long time...but more on that in another blog.

In going back over, what became, a long list of bulleted "quotes" from that evening later that weekend, I again was stopped in my tracks by his statement that in essence said,  "I'm not seeking to be something, but to do something..."

I have long been focused on the difference between living my life as a verb, rather than a noun.  But Obama's comments demanded that I revisit how effectively I have been letting my own life articulate that philosophy. 

For most of my adult life I was all about the nouns...or at least thought I was.  I needed a child so I could be a mother, I wanted to be published so I could call myself a writer, I wanted a classroom and a group of students assigned to me for nine months... so that I could see myself as a teacher...you get the picture...without the permission of a noun (the right...or any for that matter ... person, place or thing) I was not validated. 

My journey out of this noun-based thinking came through what Mary Baker Eddy refers to as the "stress of circumstances"....

In 1988, after years of longing and praying (while both single and married) to be a mom, I was finally blessed with some hope that my dreams would be coming true.  My husband and I were asked to adopt an unborn infant.  I would soon be a mom.  I had waited for so long for a baby so that I could begin my adventure into the inner sanctum of mothering, what I knew was my native land, indigenous culture, and first language...mommydom...filled with lullabies, chocolate chip cookies, and Babygap.   I had helped my parents (and later my widowed mom) raise my seven younger brothers and sisters and I knew I could do it...I had the skillset and the long playlist of lullabies in my toolbelt to get me started, and as a former elementary school teacher and principal, I knew kids.  All I needed was a baby (noun) and I was good to go.   Now it looked like I was finally going to get my chance to be a mom (noun).

After our son was born, I enjoyed some wonderful days of bliss with him before it became clear that his birthmother was reconsidering her surrender and although it took quite a long time for her questioning to become conviction, my peace of mind was shattered with her first indication of uncertainty.  How could I go back to NOT being a mother? 

Since this is a blog and not a novel (and you can always call or e-mail and ask for specific details if you are so inclined...it's a healing that I never get tired of sharing) suffice it to say she did finally decide to parent "our" son herself and I learned some valuable (more so than I could ever have imagined at the time) lessons on the importance of being able to  "surrender" (verb) in the office of motherhood.

My healing essentially came when I ceased to think that I was waiting for a baby (noun) to mother (verb).  To "mother" is a verb.  It includes expressing the qualities of care, order, nurture, affection, support, joy, attentiveness, etc.  Being the expression of these qualities is active...not passive.  You can do it anytime, anywhere, with anyone....it doesn't require a person place or thing to validate it's right to be.  To "mother" is to be a verb...qualities in action.  I didn't need to wait to DO it...and in fact it was exercising my right to "mother" (verb) that brought forth the child (noun)....not the other way around (and that truly is another story). 

I now share the mothering of our four daughters and one son with their birthmothers, their fathers, their step mothers and fathers, their partners, aunts, uncles, grandparents (birth and step), teachers,  coaches, camp counselors, bunkhouse moms....the world family.  

With the realization that being a verb was life...a whole world of opportunities and possibilities opened up before me.  I stopped waiting to get published before I thought of myself as a writer...I was, and am, a writer because I WRITE (verb) and always have written... voraciously...and suddenly I found that I was being published....often!

I ceased to wait until we owned a house (noun) in the right location (noun) before I would invest in home improvement with all the design skills and talents I enjoyed expressing, but started improving whatever space I was in....my office, a friend's backyard, the rental house we were in...first by bringing in beautiful thoughts, then possibly (if asked) by sharing ideas for how it could be rearranged or maybe even how a change in paint color or a decrease in clutter could bring out the beauty of the space...and without realizing it we were in "our own" home making improvements and investing our time and talents more broadly...not more significantly or in a way that more fully demonstrated my sense of "home" but just a further and fuller demonstration of those verbs that were already fully validated by their utility...not through a facility!

And the list of verbs that gave birth to nouns goes on and on!!

This "principle" has been most fully realized in my career as a Christian Science practitioner, or spiritual healer...there was a time when I thought my "practice" was defined by patients....NOT!!!

My practice of spiritual healing is defined, determined, validated by the PRACTICE (verb) of spiritual healing...first in my own heart, life, thinking....by the way I look at the world and those around me....the way I embrace my neighbor, the way I act on calls from the global community to engage in making a difference spiritually, the way I nurture the children (all children...of any agelessness) in my home (consciousness)....and then the calls from patients come in....not because I am a Christian Science practitioner....but because I practice the science (in the laboratory of my life) of being (verb) Christian (verb....loving, honest...you know the rest) unconditionally...without the need for nouns....just be cause it is who I am....I am a verb...

Thank you Mr. Obama for the timely reminder....

Now I am looking forward to turning words like summer and winter into verbs....as in, I summer (verb) in the mountains and I winter (verb) on the beach....ahhh...can't wait to see how those verbs give birth to nouns!!!   No more waiting for summer....camp all year round...heaven on earth!