Can you judge me by the color of my skin? My ethnic heritage? The color of my sin?
No. You are just like me, my equal in mortality. A flesh bound soul on a journey towards...somewhere, and your goals are no more noble than mine. Your rights are no more important.
Can you judge me by the size of my bank account?
No. I own it, it does not own me. I am not a slave to the almighty dollar. I have not given my will over to the captains of greed and praying for the power that some believe comes from net gains and the loss of dignity.
My worth was complete the moment my lungs filled with the fresh air of life and I announced my existence in a scream of shock and excitement. My membership in the race of humanity guarantees the sanctity of my value. It cannot be taken from me by societal conditions and arbitrary media decisions.
It is my birthright.
The promise of my God and my faith remains fast. Your choices do not influence mine. Your thoughts do not cloud my vision. You can celebrate the glory of heavens with me, or remain safe in your own beliefs...I wish you comfort either way. I wish you peace. But you cannot change me or make me less because my mind does not acquiesce to yours. I am different, and that is the beauty of me. Curse my intellect because it defies the popular, but it is mine to utilize and I will exercise my right to see the world in my own view.
Thank you.
A man once spoke of a dream, a day when colorblind is the new normal. A woman once sat in the front, too tired to move any further, but strong enough to fight the lie of the devalued. A man across the sea once refused food in search of equality, as another fueled a movement of desegregation from a prison.
Their worth is no greater than ours. But their hearts had the courage to own their value and they understood the importance that lives in every soul. They were brave enough to shout out the truth of a communal worth, sometimes with words. I admire brave and salute courage. I hail the heart willing to speak honestly of an equal humanity.
It is a truth that illuminates greatest when we work together, even if some still refuse to see it shine.
As this nation pauses to celebrate the birth of a courageous man, I am grateful for Dr. King’s clarity of vision and boldness of words. I am grateful that he could see through the haze of hate and acknowledge our worth.
Your worth. And mine. Equal in value.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Heart Meets Go
As children we see our dreams as possibilities and embrace the beauty of Maybe while glorifying the brilliance of Someday. As adults we've crumbled under the weight of things that are simply not Done and have given up. We allow disapproving glances to define our boundaries. We fear judgment when we should laugh at its existence. We give it power it does not deserve.
Don't speak out. Don't speak up. Don't stand out. Don't live.
Somewhere between the joy of youth and the mediocrity of the aged we lose the desire to sustain hope and flounder in the River of Homogeneity. We don’t even try to fight it anymore because what’s the use? To fit in is to belong, and to belong is our socialized goal.
White picket fences and corporate cubicles are a safety net to the fearfully normal soul. Does it make you angry when you read that?
Why then did the inner fire dim? Why did we kill of the passion that boils within our hearts and condemn ourselves to a life of average? What would our five-year old self say about our present-day predicament? Why do we let dreams die when their beauty could ignite the enduring passion of a life that matters?
We ask children what they want to be when they grow up, hoping against hope that they name a career that would garner power and financial success. Doctor. Lawyer. President. No one cheers the child who claims Visionary. Peace-maker. Unfettered Artist. We want our children to belong, to blend in and to meld nicely with the rest of society. We like our children to fit into the box because it’s easier.
Our youthful dreams were neatly squashed by well-meaning adults, so why then should we allow their dreams to breath the air of wonderment? Why should we allow anyone to dream if we have forgotten how to dream for ourselves?
It doesn’t have to end with regret. Dreams can be reborn, passion can be reawakened and renewed with the smallest particle of hope. That inner desire, the one that fueled you in your younger days can still guide you, if you have the will and desire to take a chance on life. If, and only if you believe that your innate gifts are worth the effort, then take the chance, ignore convention and live your dream.
I have been informed that I don’t fit in. I have even been advised that, due to my age, I should act differently. I should mature quietly, discreetly; succumb to the weight of my years. But my goal is to not fit in, to not become the average middle-ager who blends into the scenery and fears the rules of aging. My goal is to stoke the passion for life and fight off those who criticize the dreamers...encourage the youthful heart regardless of the number of their years.
Life is a short, messy trip down an unknown path. It comes with no guarantees, no do-overs, and absolutely no stopping along the way. Grab on to it and listen to your dreams, and utilize your God-given gifts because they are your unique talents and this world could probably use them right about now. Ignore the nay-sayers, the rule-makers, and the judgmental fools wallowing in their own fears. Close your eyes, listen to your heart, and just go.
Don't speak out. Don't speak up. Don't stand out. Don't live.
Somewhere between the joy of youth and the mediocrity of the aged we lose the desire to sustain hope and flounder in the River of Homogeneity. We don’t even try to fight it anymore because what’s the use? To fit in is to belong, and to belong is our socialized goal.
White picket fences and corporate cubicles are a safety net to the fearfully normal soul. Does it make you angry when you read that?
Why then did the inner fire dim? Why did we kill of the passion that boils within our hearts and condemn ourselves to a life of average? What would our five-year old self say about our present-day predicament? Why do we let dreams die when their beauty could ignite the enduring passion of a life that matters?
We ask children what they want to be when they grow up, hoping against hope that they name a career that would garner power and financial success. Doctor. Lawyer. President. No one cheers the child who claims Visionary. Peace-maker. Unfettered Artist. We want our children to belong, to blend in and to meld nicely with the rest of society. We like our children to fit into the box because it’s easier.
Our youthful dreams were neatly squashed by well-meaning adults, so why then should we allow their dreams to breath the air of wonderment? Why should we allow anyone to dream if we have forgotten how to dream for ourselves?
It doesn’t have to end with regret. Dreams can be reborn, passion can be reawakened and renewed with the smallest particle of hope. That inner desire, the one that fueled you in your younger days can still guide you, if you have the will and desire to take a chance on life. If, and only if you believe that your innate gifts are worth the effort, then take the chance, ignore convention and live your dream.
I have been informed that I don’t fit in. I have even been advised that, due to my age, I should act differently. I should mature quietly, discreetly; succumb to the weight of my years. But my goal is to not fit in, to not become the average middle-ager who blends into the scenery and fears the rules of aging. My goal is to stoke the passion for life and fight off those who criticize the dreamers...encourage the youthful heart regardless of the number of their years.
Life is a short, messy trip down an unknown path. It comes with no guarantees, no do-overs, and absolutely no stopping along the way. Grab on to it and listen to your dreams, and utilize your God-given gifts because they are your unique talents and this world could probably use them right about now. Ignore the nay-sayers, the rule-makers, and the judgmental fools wallowing in their own fears. Close your eyes, listen to your heart, and just go.
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