Reach Out, Push Through

Recently shared a little about inertia; I told a friend after that post it was actually more accurate to call it “emotional inertia.”

That’s where I’ve been the last few days, for some reason. You might call it a funk. I’ve probably called it that here somewhere before.

And so what to do? Another common theme comes up: persevere; teach out to others; push through the sledge; keep going until you get to the other side.

I think expectations have something to do with it, where this funk comes from. More precisely, my own (unrealistic?) expectation on what’s possible to get done during any given time.

And then when I fall short, don’t do what I expected to do? FUNK.

And that’s when the perseverance mentality has to rise; and reaching out to others becomes even more critical. Sometimes it takes a while; and so the funk gets more powerful; maybe a wallow even commences; and if it’s really strong, I wake up in the middle of the night, mind immediately racing.

And so?

Reach out to others, and PUSH THROUGH.

And I am.

"Let Freedom Ring…"

Image from Google’s Home Page on MLK Day, 2020

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., spoke these words on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. on August 28, 1963. Tens of thousands gathered to participate in expressions of dissatisfaction with a lack of racial inequality in society here in the United States.

Fifty-seven years later, inequality still exists. In fact, the ugly and vile voice of racism seems louder to me now in this country than I’ve heard it in the past. King’s words ring true today as they did more than a half century ago. King’s call to action is as important and critical to our nation and our democracy’s well-being as it was then too.

Let’s remember King, and just as important, let’s remember the importance of his vision for America.

His words still ring true; his critique no less true today in many ways.

Here is the full text to the “I Have A Dream” speech:

“I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ‘tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!” “

MLK, Washington D.C., 28 August, 1963

Inertia

I found myself deep in it this past weekend. Inertia. My particular case was mental inertia.

High minded goals stalled out. Some things completed, but much still to do.

With a little faith and patience and some love too, I came out the other side. Then I fell back in again, into the funk.

When you find yourself in that mindset it can be tough. And it can ebb and flow; a subtle yet teal challenge to wade through and overcome. But you CAN get through it.

Do the next right thing. And then do it again. And again. That’s the path forward. And be patient, even as it’s uncomfortable and maybe frustrating. Be patient. And do the next right thing.

You’ll get through it.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inertia

We Are Called

We are called to be with and for all people, this idea is a fundamental of Christianity. That means we help others; that means we do not judge; that means we do not reject, belittle, demean.

In as much as people want to be better and forgive themselves and others of wrong-doing, so too we must respond in kind.

The credo of Christianity is to forgive and to help others. This is our calling, each and every day. This is the basic lesson from Mark’s gospel below; this is how Jesus approached the world and those around him.

This is our calling.

Gospel Mk 2:13-17

Jesus went out along the sea.
All the crowd came to him and he taught them.
As he passed by, he saw Levi, son of Alphaeus,
sitting at the customs post.
Jesus said to him, “Follow me.”
And he got up and followed Jesus.
While he was at table in his house,
many tax collectors and sinners sat with Jesus and his disciples;
for there were many who followed him.
Some scribes who were Pharisees saw that Jesus was eating with sinners
and tax collectors and said to his disciples,
“Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?”
Jesus heard this and said to them,
“Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do.
I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

Catboy

One of my son’s heroes and model of how to be. Catboy.

Disney Channel’s kid show, The PJ Masks has this character, Catboy. He’s the leader of a kid superhero trio.

The PJ Masks show is a great one for kids, I think. The trio do typical superhero work, but also face normal challenges of ego, selfishness, and other very ordinary obstacles we all face.

But usually by the end of the episode, they have realized their weakness, their struggle, and have found a path to overcome. With an inspiring, “It’s time to be the hero!”, they save the day every time.

Of course, in real life we don’t save the day every day. But we do have the chance to be brave and do the right thing.

So here’s to that!, and our own trio we have at home.

My son’s own interpretation of this wonder in blue, Catboy!