When I despair . . .

For sure there are times when we all get discouraged. Over the last seven years or more, there has been plenty to be discouraged about in America, with the current people who took over not just he White House, but the whole US government, and seemingly every check and balance that we’d installed in our country to make sure they never could do what they’ve done.

It’s been a source of madness, an unjust and murderous regime in our country.

Can we call it anything less than a tyrrany? There is no doubt that there has been surface justification for Mr. Bush’s actions: His ‘primary job to protect the American people’; the threat  of more killings like the 9/11 attacks; the upheaval in Iraq and Iran, (caused in large measure by our own unjust invasion there); the shifting of global resources.

Perhaps some American citizens, foreign leaders, and Saudis can say it is a ‘just tyrrany’. All I know is that if it walks like a tyrant, quacks like a tyrant, it’s a tyrant, justified or not.

And we aren’t supposed to be having tyrants here in America. We are a free and sovereign people unto ourselves, and we elect our leaders, not place ourselves subject to them. We’re subjects of nobody, and never will be.

That is the whole point of the dream of America, to never be fooled again into thinking that some person, or family, or government, is somehow more sovereign than we are.

Mahatma Gandhi said this about tyrants:

When I despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it–always.

I think it’s beyond dispute that Mr. Bush and Co. have tried to create an American Empire, and to place himself and his cronies at the top of this empire, to establish it as the new way of "America" across the world, and do so without any justification or impunity upon himself or his friends.

The question for us now is: can we find our way through the despair that their actions have caused for us, reclaim our purpose and direction and return to an America that is finding its way toward our own ideals?

There are millions of people around the world leading this kind of journey, together and individually, leaderless and with passion. There’s no shortage of courage and determination to find a non-violent, sustainable path toward a just future. When humans get stepped on for so long, as this horrible administration has done around the world to so many, we will ultimately rise up and reclaim our humanity.

We are people here, too!

It’s time for our humanity to shine! As Gandhis said so eloquently,

 There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it–always.

This regime will fall as well, and I predict that they will fall hard. Their savagery has been overwhelming, from illegal wars to torture, from murders and justified assasinations to the ellimination of basic freedoms, from the destruction of environmental safeguards to intimidation of whole populations, this group of men and women will stand out in history as one of the most blood-thirsty, short-sighted, and power-hungry to ever take the reins of a country. Ever.

And they will fall.

We continue here at GanghiGuy to hold that non-violence is the path to take, that truth-telling is what’s necessary, and that love and harmony will always win in the end.

Come join us in that quest.

In Peace,

Don, aka ‘Gandhi Guy’

 

A Beautiful Prayer for Peace

My friend, Norma Tarango of Tesuque,  New Mexico, sent me this prayer when she received our invitation to our 3rd-Saturday Meditation for Peace coming up on March 15th (2-3:30pm at the Santa Fe UU Church).

I found this prayer very sweet, and moving, and grounded in reality. Make it be your prayer for this week.

With Love,

Don, aka "Gandhi Guy"

Prayer for Peace

Pray to whomever you kneel down to:
Jesus nailed to his wooden or plastic cross,
his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the bodhi tree in scorching heat,
Adonai, Allah. Raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekhina, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.
Then pray to the bus driver who takes you to work.
On the bus, pray for everyone riding that bus,
for everyone riding buses all over the world.
Drop some silver and pray.

Waiting in line for the movies, for the ATM,
for your latte and croissant, offer your plea.
Make your eating and drinking a supplication.
Make your slicing of carrots a holy act,
each translucent layer of the onion, a deeper prayer.

To Hawk or Wolf, or the Great Whale, pray.
Bow down to terriers and shepherds and Siamese cats.
Fields of artichokes and elegant strawberries.

Make the brushing of your hair
a prayer, every strand its own voice,
singing in the choir on your head.
As you wash your face, the water slipping
through your fingers, a prayer: Water,
softest thing on earth, gentleness
that wears away rock.

Making love, of course, is already prayer.
Skin, and open mouths worshipping that skin,
the fragile cases we are poured into.

If you’re hungry, pray. If you’re tired.
Pray to Gandhi and Dorothy Day.
Shakespeare. Sappho. Sojourner Truth.

When you walk to your car, to the mailbox,
to the video store, let each step
be a prayer that we all keep our legs,
that we do not blow off anyone else’s legs.
Or crush their skulls.
And if you are riding on a bicycle
or a skateboard, in a wheelchair, each revolution
of the wheels a prayer as the earth revolves:
less harm, less harm, less harm.

And as you work, typing with a new manicure,
a tiny palm tree painted on one pearlescent nail
or delivering soda or drawing good blood
into rubber-capped vials, writing on a blackboard
with yellow chalk, twirling pizzas–

With each breath in, take in the faith of those
who have believed when belief seemed foolish,
who persevered. With each breath out, cherish.

Pull weeds for peace, turn over in your sleep for peace,
feed the birds, each shiny seed
that spills onto the earth, another second of peace.
Wash your dishes, call your mother, drink wine.

Shovel leaves or snow or trash from your sidewalk.
Make a path. Fold a photo of a dead child
around your VISA card. Scoop your holy water
from the gutter. Gnaw your crust.
Mumble along like a crazy person, stumbling
your prayer through the streets.

from The Human Line, by Ellen Bass
 

 

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