Skip to main content

Communique #11

I can't breath

Reflecting on the horrendous scene in Minneapolis, “I can’t breath”.  I think of the disproportionate number of people of color who get sick and die from Covid-19.  I think of the respirators pushing oxygen into the lungs of people who are horrible sick.  “I can’t breathe” and I think of the lack of good health care in the Inter-cities and among the rural poor in the United States.  Before the pandemic this was just normal.  With people in the streets there is hope for a new normal.

Still, I am seventy-one years old and this racial hatred has been present my whole life.  I have seen its many manifestations, a numbing number of means of disadvantaging the other.  I have seen how it has been used for political gain.  Everywhere I have lived, it lives, North, South and West.  When I took the white supremacy in Oregon course I felt overwhelmed by the relentless discrimination, it has so many heads.  I don’t know if it can be changed, it has been so persistent; it has shaped geography and mental spaces. “I can’t breath” it is so deep rooted, such a long history.  Good that so many are in the streets, these young people give me hope a dialogue about this scourge is long overdue.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Communique #4

Watching the sky this evening, wind moving the trees. Out the window, watching the movement of the evergreen limbs in motion. Are they moving in a different way? Has the pandemic changed this movement, the motion of the limbs? I wonder. Yes, it is nonsensical and yet, . . . I study the trees, the movement, and am mindful and alert to detect the change. While watching my mantra comes to me, “We are ALL in this together”. And if there is an omnipresent power acting as director, it would be a fine time for this enormous teaching moment. We are ALL in this together and if we can flatten the curve of the virus, we could flatten the curve of the climate crisis. Because we are ALL in this together. And yet, I can see that this could all spin down into chaos. I see both sides. I am pulled to the positive, hopeful side while fully acknowledging the dark possibilities. My strong suit here I feel is that I am seventy-one years old. Even with the worst projections I would still have l

Communique #1

On the trip from Hawaii home I’m sitting in a window seat looking at clouds, above the clouds, I think of what an accident it is that we are so fortunate to be here, we humans. I am floating above the clouds looking down on earth. It is really impossible to imagine what could have created all of this, beyond my abilities. I suppose the religions of the world represent what humans have imagined. All of which, in my mind falls short. The patterns of these clouds tell me this. I can accept that it is beyond my imagination to understand. And if there is one who can grasp and imagine it ALL, I’ll give that super being the name God. I am not at all sure there is that one. So I try to imagine some benign force at work here. The cloud formations remind me of ice formation in water, irregular patterns and lines with open blue water. These clouds also have thickness. The trip home. And all that it means to me, HOME, out the window I realize it is not just Portland, as meaningful as