A Work in Progress; Navigating the Path to your Heart
Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it. — Rumi
Trying to process this ever changing dynamic in a world that often leaves me feeling as if I am the one spinning, I find by translating my thoughts into written words I sometimes find a brief moment of clarity, a direction from my inner compass and the courage to follow its guidance.
And so this “Work in Progress” began as I tangled with all the tumultuous times we are wading our way through right now and just as I began to see some light, another sweet one was diminished, Tyler Gerth. A young man who I had prayed for by name, whose mother I had volunteered alongside as our sons were classmates in high school. A young man who believed in making a real change in this world taken too soon among those peacefully protesting.
Tyler’s death intertwined with the many ills of our society; mental illness, an abundance of guns and an overwhelming fear of each other is one more painful reminder of another mother’s child lost to our own unwillingness to let go of the fear, to put down the plowshares and open our hearts.
As I revisited the words used to work my way through my own struggles and personal responsibility, the words of John Lewis’s passing reached my ears and my heart. Seared in our American story and my mind is the black and white photo capturing the moment the baton was raised before violently striking John Lewis’s head as he was forced to the ground that historic day in Selma. The photos, his words, his exemplary life all serve as inspiration to get up, to never give up, to do something with the life we have each been given. The words that I wrote spoke again in a new light, John Lewis’s words resounded with greater volume than ever before, the work within remains and the challenges ahead can inspire and not defeat us.
In his final words to us John Lewis asked us “to answer the highest calling of your heart” — my own words challenged me to listen to my heart. If we all can start there, maybe then we can begin to hear it calling us, maybe then we can begin to let it guide us, maybe then we can discover the courage to live from it. There will be darker days no doubt, I am going to keep focusing on the light, especially that which shines in you. The work within remains the same no matter how the storms blow around us. Together “we are one people with one family, we all live in the same house….we must lay down the burden of hate. For hate is too heavy a burden to bear.” John Lewis.
It wasn’t so dramatic as Merton’s epiphany in the heart of my hometown of Louisville, KY, but yet on a snowy St. Patrick’s Day morning in Rochester Minnesota, my whole world view changed forever. In a matter of hours after months of anticipation, I became a mother and the center of my universe shifted.
As I held our son for the first time, it wasn’t the light emanating from all those around me like Merton witnessed, but my heart experienced a deep understanding that everyone on this earth is someone’s baby. Every homeless person, every hero, every hetero- and homosexual, every addict, every author, every athlete, every one whose needs are deemed special, every one who no longer feels special, every color, every creed, they were at one point the newborn a mother held with dreams much bigger than the infant cradled in her frightened arms.
The incredible joy mixed with fear comes from a knowing as mothers how cruel this world can be. It was then I realized that if I was going to make this world a better place for this next generation, I was going to have to look outside myself while going deep within, realizing the one thing I could change about this world was me.
Throughout years of diapers, sleepless nights, carpool line, practices, lessons, rehearsals, homework and heartaches, I kept finding myself drawn to the words and writings of those who changed the world on a much grander scale than my simple suburban existence. I surrounded myself with the words of Mother Teresa, Mr. Rogers, Desmond Tutu, Martin Luther King, the Dalai Lama, Jesus, Thich Nath Hanh, the poetry of Maya Angelou & Mary Oliver and Kentucky’s own Wendell Berry and Mohammad Ali.
Inspired by their wisdom I was determined to discover a way to make my life a conscious contribution to making this world a better place for everyone’s baby. It took me years, decades really, to discover what each of these inspirational figures had in common. Their words spoke to me as a broken wholeness that they each were willing to show the world. None of these great souls claimed perfection but they each found a way to peel back the layers the world had placed upon them and live a life centered from their heart. This has been my challenge. This is my work in progress. For if I am to progress in this desire to make the world a better place, then I have to let go of my own world-induced layers and truly live life from my heart.
Living from that space there is no denying the reality of the divine intervention of each and every being and the interconnectedness of us all. Existing in that space requires actions that align with the understanding that each and every soul no matter how it was packaged on its arrival to this planet is to be honored, respected and allowed to live to its fullest potential. I know this to be true, because Mr. Rogers told me so,
“As human beings, our job in life is to help people realize how rare and valuable each one of us really is, that each of us has something that no one else has- or ever will have- something inside that is unique to all time.”
Looking for the divine within in all beings can be an arduous adventure because in the “all” is the “I” and that is where we must start. Why am I afraid? Where have I caused pain? What must I unlearn, release, forgive? Can I still recognize my own inherent worthiness? Can I lift the veil between myself and others? Can I begin to truly listen? Can I bear witness to my own pain and begin healing? Mother Teresa’s words spin round in my head as I try to find the answers,
“If you judge people you have no time to love them.”
I think she might even be telling me that applies to one’s own self.
All these questions are complicated and there are no easy answers, but when I find myself ready to react, to assign judgment, if I can catch myself, then I catch my breath. The whispers of Thich Nhat Hanh are a constant invitation to to breathe, to find my footing and guide my steps onto what he refers to as
“the bridge which connects life to consciousness, which unites your body to your thoughts.”
Yet, now we find ourselves witness to a fellow human being who cannot breathe as another human among us denies him the opportunity to catch even one more breath, to “connect life to consciousness”. George Floyd was someone’s baby, there is no denying it as we witnessed him calling out for his mother with his final gasps. His cries and the abject absence of compassion shown him pierced this mother’s heart; I felt it breaking for this world. Can we truly bear witness to this pain? Can we begin healing? Has the veil been lifted? Can we cross that bridge now that we are all aware, now that not one among us can deny the existence of this inhumanity?
Like a fighter felled to the mat, fatigued and faith diminished, that primal power arises, that voice within says get up and discover the strength to continue the fight honoring all those who have fallen before. You can hear in his undeniable voice, my hometown hero Mohammad Ali pound the mat next to the world shouting
“Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.”
And so we rise, you can feel it move through you, this global groan, the exhausted yet empowered exhale of a generation, a nation, a world that is ready to acknowledge our sins and move forward in healing. The cries of mothers, brothers, sisters, allies and enemies all longing to be heard, to be seen, to be recognized, they are asking us the difficult questions we must ask of ourselves, How am I complicit in this struggle? What must I do now? What must change within me in order to create positive change for all? The Dalai Lama patiently challenges me to
“develop love and compassion so strong that the suffering of others becomes unbearable.”
And yet Desmond Tutu reminds me,
“As human beings we have the most extraordinary capacity for evil. We can perpetrate some of the most horrendous atrocities.”
And just like that fighter, I fall to the mat again. Seemingly down for the count, dazed and daunted by the realization that I too have the capacity for all those emotions within me, the anger, the hate, the pain, the love, the compassion, I reach for the ropes to pull myself back into the fight. Yet, this time when I find myself back on my feet, I am ready to take the gloves off, clearly recognizing myself in my opponent.
So again gratefully I rise, this time standing tall on my own mat gazing over my fingertips imagining myself as the peaceful, righteous warrior of justice and light as I listen to the words of my yoga teachers as I search for the strength in each pose and within myself.
Riding breaths that remind me we are all worthy, we are all grace, we are all one. Moments spent resting on my mat, I am often graced with the wisdom of my own personal saints who guided by their unending faith mixed with a bit of Irish wit remind me of the power of patience when tied with hope, the freedom of forgiveness when the chains are lifted and compassion can rise. Often I hear my grandmother simple explanation for the pain so many are suffering and inflicting upon others, her sweet voice still speaks to me,
“Maybe their feet hurt.”
These wounds of the world, this individual pain, this generational suffering is begging us to consider the source of each soul’s pain and to look for the solution to start healing. That includes our own, for it is in the recognition of our own brokenness that we take the first steps towards healing. We aren’t settling when we realize that most of us are doing the best we can within our current capacities, we are just beginning to recognize and understand how important love is and how much it is truly needed to expand the horizons of each soul’s capacity.
“Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.”
Martin Luther King continues to shout from the mountaintop, we just have to be willing to start the climb.
The presence of those leaders and lovers of the world who have gone before us is palpable, their words still whisper in our ears. New voices emerge with their own broken wholeness ready to serve this world. Bryan Stephenson’s powerful work Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, reminds us
“There is a strength, a power even, in understanding brokenness, because embracing our brokenness creates a need and desire for mercy, and perhaps a corresponding need to show mercy. When you experience mercy, you learn things that are hard to learn otherwise. You see things you can’t otherwise see; you hear things you can’t otherwise hear. You begin to recognize the humanity that resides in each of us.”
The humanity of our children like the students from Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School representing the thousands of young lives forever changed by violence, courageously asking us to recognize that we not only change our laws but our ways of thinking as well. Hearts broken by bullets and injustice, the shared humanity of black mothers such as Lesley McSpadden, Sybrina Fulton, Gwenn Carr and Tamika Palmer inspire us by their demands for action despite the depths of their pain, requiring each one of us to recognize their reality of a world without their child in it.
Gena Gerth, the mother of Tyler, a fellow classmate of my son, now navigating through grief as her son’s humble heart no longer beats and yet his empathetic eye continues to call us to bear witness to the injustices of a society struggling to heal through the poignant photographs he left behind. They are asking us to see, they are asking us to hear.
This endless ache of a mother’s grief, her cries are heard daily, our children a nightly news event and yet we wait. We wait to take action, we feel powerless in our pain, we fail to rise and yet we must get up. We must seek transformation, we must turn pain into power, cries into compassion, fear into fiery passion and forgiveness into our shields. We mothers are Mary at the foot of the cross, her pain is real and our broken hearts, if we let them, reveal our strength, our power, our willingness to heal through the forgiveness of others and our greatest inflictor, ourselves.
“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” Luke 23:34
There is much hope to be found in this next generation of leaders and activists and yet there is still much to be asked of each of us. The answers will vary for each of us, but if we are willing to listen, to live in that place where our heart abides, to recognize and heal our own brokenness, our own wounds, I believe we can begin to come to an understanding, we can discover our role in this forward progression of humanity.
Utilizing our individual talents in service for all will manifest itself in a variety of ways yet each contribution to the collective whole will be felt. Artist, activist, writer, donor, educator, student, parent, citizen, each connect us to the other as their shared capacities expand our community and our consciousness.
Inspired, we find the strength to use the weight of our heavy hearts to strengthen our empathetic muscles of compassion in order to lift the weight the world has placed on our brothers and sisters. There is much heavy lifting required for us all to move forward, but thankfully I believe we are all much stronger than we know. Like a spiritual weightlifter poet Mary Oliver reminds us of the practice in her poem Heavy,
“Then said my friend Daniel (brave even among the lions), It’s not the weight you carry but how you carry it — books, bricks, grief — it’s all in the way you embrace it, balance, carry it, when you cannot, and would not, put it down.” So I went practicing. Have you noticed?”
It has been over 27 years of practice and I am not sure anyone has noticed, but I hold tightly to hope for I know I am so much stronger and wiser than that young mother in Minnesota ever imagined. Each day another opportunity, another moment of grace to discover the strength to shed another layer that no longer serves this expanding heart and with practice I pray that I will continue to make progress. I hear Maya Angelou reminding me
“when you know better, you do better”
and Michelle Obama acknowledging
”becoming isn’t about arriving somewhere or achieving a certain aim. I see it instead as forward motion, a means of evolving, a way to reach continuously toward a better self. The journey doesn’t end.”
I am still such a work in progress, but the good news is if we are willing to do the work, we will progress. The world is asking us to do the work. They say motherhood is the toughest job you will ever love, but it does not take giving birth to understand how much this world needs your effort and your heart. Each one of us walking this planet is someone’s baby. We must embrace that unconditional love within ourselves so we can give it to the world. Take the time, Do the work, it truly is a labor of love. The world deserves everything you have to offer. We know better, we can do better. The world needs you now.
You don’t change the world with the ideas in your mind, but with the conviction in your heart. -Bryan Stephenson
