Remembering How To Fight.

by Mary Courtney Blake

This may seem like an odd sort of article for a pacifist to pen, an yet, I am learning so much these days about what it means to choose what sort of person you would like to become, even to let yourself be the sort of person you are.  I suppose, though, that I am rambling.  Let me put it this way, though I may never throw a punch I am learning to stand firm in myself and to stand beside my neighbors and that takes greater courage than pulling any trigger.

Consider Glory.

by Mary Courtney Blake

As I encounter life and try to navigate through its marshes, I usually draw inspiration from some story heard, book read, or movie seen.  Stories act like a compass in these often complicated journeys of our lives.

However, for as many times as I have looked to story to guide my decisions, to tell me who I should be becoming, I have found that there are stories that lead astray.  There is a tendency for them to skew the cost of our souls should we follow their advice.  We think to ourselves, "That person was happy at the end and I too shall be happy if I [insert life-lesson here]."  This is not always true.  Some stories only show us new ways of hiding our neurosis, of masking the pain that life has dealt.  They tell us that work, lovers, discipline, family, money or creed will solve our problems.  And, to be honest, these things are not necessarily bad in themselves.  It is when we expect for them to save us that they turn sour... but, culturally, our stories often fail to address this sad fact.  So, we search on, looking for some new protocol for happiness, because isn't that what we all want?  Happiness.

Many of our stories center around the pursuit of happiness.  We use happiness as a shallow excuse for all sorts of vices.  We even let our search for peace or comfort oppress others.  And, perhaps these stories are true.  Maybe you will be happy, but what sort of person will you be?  Is a hollow happiness all there is to be gained?

I would like to offer this: consider the weight of glory instead.  Humanity has a great capacity for beauty, splendor, magnificence.  There is more to our hearts than happiness.  We have an immeasurable ability to love, to sacrifice, to overcome hardship, to create beauty, to transcend.  What if these were the stories that we let shape us?  Perhaps in significance, we might even get happiness thrown in.

We Are People, Not Politics

by Mary Courtney Blake

I sat down to my computer with the hope of writing some eloquent apology, or perhaps some poetic insight into the great wrongs that have been committed towards my neighbors tonight.  But as I sit, no words can contain my grief.  We are people, not politics.  Have we forgotten this?  Tonight I weep with my neighbors.  I weep with those who will wake in the morning less than when they laid down their heads.  I affirm your suffering and I will be your sister in sorrow.