From “How to Love”, Thich Nhat Hanh
I know that the news always sounds worse and worse. I’m sorry for that.
We’re going to win, though – those of us on the side of truth and beauty – and here’s why. The world with a climate change emergency that we take seriously doesn’t belong to “Democrats”, it belongs to human beings who do the actual work every day. Nazis are evil. Locking children in cages is evil. White supremacy is evil. We’re seeing it every day, so you should start to recognize it in all its forms.
We’re smarter and cooler and faster than evil. We have all the best music. Evil doesn’t even know how jokes work. We can dance, and evil claps on the one and the three.
You only have to go to corporate news and social media sites and witness them reflecting horror back in your eyes on the daily if you want to. You can spend the rest of your internet-connected time learning something on Wikipedia, or swiping through photos of good-looking plants, or, IDK, blogging about poetry.
When you’re out in the real world, do everything you can to remind them that we’re going to win. Don’t settle. Keep fighting. If your fight is to report a Nazi a week on Twitter, do it. We need you in this fight too. If your fight is organizing your neighborhood double-dutch competition, fight on, and tell me where it is so I can come. Register people to vote, or let someone on the train on your swipe. Find out new things about your neighbors, or ignore them completely and keep them in your prayers.
Stop letting these monsters sell guns to our children. Stop letting them put plastic in our water. Stop letting them frack for oil and pipeline it to their evil bank accounts. Keep your eye on who the real enemy is: it’s not a person or a party.
Evil’s not going to win. I’m here to tell you: it simply can’t.
from Tumblr https://njudahlove.tumblr.com/post/188053093486
“The message is simple: Love everyone. “I have to work hard to be able to keep my heart open to people whose policies I disagree with,” Ram Dass once said, in a lecture from the ‘90s. “I have a holy table with pictures on it of Buddha and Christ and Maharajji, my guru.… And I used to have Caspar Weinberger”—the secretary of defense under Ronald Reagan—“on the table, but I now have replaced him with Bob Dole. So in the morning, I say, ‘Good morning, Christ! Hello, Buddha! Good morning, Maharajji! Hello, Bob.’ And I see how far I have to go yet. Because after all, [Bob Dole] is merely God in drag, saying, I bet you won’t recognize me this way, will you? They’re all faces of the beloved.””
She came out in her sparkle bra, tearing fiercely across the stage. “Bwoy twoy named Trwoy used to live in Detrwoit.…” J.Lo was already re-seated and watching the performance, and at first she clapped along lazily, but then stopped. For a variety of reasons, it is hard to parse what might be going on in J.Lo’s mind by looking at her face, but when Nicki launched into her own dancer-backed squatted twerk—a younger twerk, a bouncier twerk—I swear I saw J.Lo’s left eyelid blink out of sequence with her right one, a subdermal twitch indicating that perhaps she’d had a rage stroke.
I love J.Lo but the words “rage stroke” have forever changed me