Let’s Jump Off the Facebook Soapbox, and into Each Others’ Arms.
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Facebook is one big circle jerk. If someone says something political we agree with, we Like the shit out of that — Oh my god, this is so dead on. If someone says something inspirational, we Love and re-post it.
If someone gets on our nerves and says anything that remotely hums of the stuff we despise, we are off devising hate mail for a few hours while fighting the writer on their Facebook page.
“Why would I even know? Because you’re the star of right, and we’re all just floating in the sea of wrong as you go by in your ship of right.” ~ Dane Cook
We decided it already, so there’s nothing they can really do that will make us happy other than say the magical words that are better than I want to make sweet love to you. They are: You are right. That’s all we’re looking for. We pretend to want to end violence, racism, we act like we really want to make a difference, but we will only do it on our terms, and damn anyone else who does not get on board the way we think they should.
We think we are sailing strong, but every time we create an us against them, our ship continues to sink and we can’t afford to lose much more time.
The state of affairs in our world seems to be getting bleaker by the hour, by the second. And the evil side of humanity likes it that we get caught up in fighting each other instead of fighting evil. It’s laughing at all of our fist-shaking while evil has its way in the light of day.
While we’re hating on the pro-gun folk, people are dying. While we’re damning queer folk to hell, people are dying. While we hate the police, people are still dying. While we hate people of color, people are still dying. We all want to wag our finger and say who is guilty — it’s the white man, it’s the black man, it’s the gay man.
We live our lives based on a collective agreeing of who is wrong and who is right, making our bed with the do-gooders and spitting at the evildoers. Meanwhile, we are covered in the blood of each other. As much as we’d want to blame the state of affairs on someone else so we can sleep at night, we can’t. We all are responsible for the way this world is.
As we devise a list of reasons of why we are oh-so-angry and oh-so-justified, a sense of peace and safety is melting before our very eyes, for we cannot fight hate with hate. We cannot fight violence with more violence.
I am just as guilty as you are, you are as guilty as I am. We cannot avoid each others’ eyes any longer — you who believe you are so different from me. The longer I avoid your gaze, the more our hearts get the crazy idea that one of us is better, smarter, holier, stronger, and that’s the fuel of the engine of hatred.
When I was 18 years old, I traveled to Greece. Standing in the airport in Greece, I watched a man drive an old frail woman across the terminal at an incredible speed. I felt my stomach begin to boil, a hatred stirred in me that I had yet to express. I watched in total disbelief and terror when he slammed on his brakes and this precious old woman fell off hard onto her side. No, I did not help her up. No, I didn’t call for help and run to her and comfort her.
That would be easy. Then he wouldn’t have to pay. I yelled the shit out of this man in a language he did not even understand. I went up to his face, pointing and yelling, “How dare you? How could you? That was too fast! What is wrong with you?” My sister pulled me away for the first and last time I will ever attack a person with such vehement anger. I walked away with a rage that made me feel alive, but not better.
Looking back over my shoulder, I watched as the elderly woman was pulled to her feet by someone, dare I say it, more loving. By someone who understood who really deserved all the attention: the one who was hurt. Walking away, I felt sick to my stomach, knowing I accomplished nothing but made another person hate crazy Americans. I had a rage in me that I could finally channel, and it did nothing but make some chasm even wider.
I’ve vowed to do my best to get over there, to where someone is at, instead of waving my righteous middle finger of indignation. I try to be quick to ask questions, instead of being dismissive. I thought it was the man, it was the abuser, it was the religious person, it was the terrorist, it was the righteous person, it was the teacher, it was the friend, it was everyone else who had a problem… but not me. Oh, how safe and lonely it is to be right!
To go to sleep and awake in the middle of the night with a hatred in my heart so hot that it burns away the fingerprints of anyone else.
Let’s do something absolutely unreasonable. Something absurd. Let’s rid the world of violence, hatred, fear and death, by asking one simple question, “What is life like for you?” And let’s really listen. The minute we stop our righteous preaching, we will hear something in all that silence: the freedom of acceptance.
We will learn that we all are the same: we eat weird shit at night in front of the television, and we get up every once in a while to look at the moon. We have people we are in love with, but we don’t know how to say it. We have grandparents who survived wars, who spat on people who looked different from them, who clung to their own. The more we remember this, the less ammunition we give to the hatred, as only the light can snuff out the dark.
Be the light.
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Maria Palumbo is a healer. She is a dancer in the dark. She lovingly guides women in the retrieval of their own souls through coaching, workshops, and community development. She celebrates freedom from shame in body, mind, and soul. Her work is fun and delicious, making the journey of healing gorgeous and satisfying, like a kiss under the Full Moon. Fall in deep love with your soul by connecting with her on Facebook or at her website.
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