Enough!

The Museum of Science and Industry 

We the people wanted power for industrial creation, 

So we harnessed a river to move some gears to grind the flour. 

Harmless. 

In some places, it was donkeys or horses, gravity, or steam. 

Power, energy, fire. 

Harmless. 

Life was so hard...cleaning clothes, cooking and preserving food, 

Heating homes in cold places. So, "lesser" humans did the work. 

Hard work, horrible, hard work and hurt, for free, ...no place for me, 

No place for me up there. 

Set her free and help her babies, more than three…babies, babies, harmless, like me. Make more power. More babies, more food, more houses, more clothing, more time...got to keep it all going. 

Harmless. 

Not just light to light the darkness, now there are waves repeating, repeating all day long. Refrigerator, stove, cable cars, plug me in!! Harmless. 

Hospitals, fire department, telephones, help us, help us, help us. 

More survive, more for longer, healthier lives, harmless, harmless, harmless. 

Where fire smoke choked the air, now smog, heat, and acid rain, 

beautiful sunsets, airplane rides, exotic foods, and Internet brides. 

If we could choose, we'd do it again, and again. 

See more, feel more, live more, know more. 

More for me, and those like me. Chemical madness. 

More drugs, less bugs, less hugs. 

Harmless. 

Demand progress, supply and demand, and curiosity.   

Magnets, static, angry wind. 

All God's power, made by men. 

Marie Curie, her night light rocks 

So long before a cancer cure, fission fusion essence of life, 

A cell divides, divided cells, bombing pieces, into peace, 

You are she, and they, and it. Life is here and now it's gone. 

Gone gone, gone beyond, beyond the beyond, 

in the refuge of the Walrus.  All of us together, 

Splitting, and splicing new life to save a life. 

Save so many lives. More lives saved. 

More. 

Harmless. 

Whale oil, Moby Dick, matching might, for light. More light. 

Perfume, a story about smelling good. Your smell, we stole your smell! Your oil, your fat for that. Only for that. Oil, precious oil, miracle of oil, Divine holy oil. Holy war, blood for oil. 

Her blood's not blood, but rotting life deep below.  

Carbon carbon everywhere, 

Breathing out this breath of life, and in and out, 

Through this damn respirator, close to death, 

Plugged in to life support. 

Even brain death cannot bring me closer to heaven. 

Kerosene oil, coal from the depths, alchemical joules.    

My blue ridge mountains take me home to light the sacrificial flame 

of our resistance.  

In the wilderness, we are tempted to return again and again to shop and carry, swagger and sparkle, just to make a buck. Walk on the wild side, walk on by, my curious heart lookin' for love in all the wrong places. 

Big city delight, up all night, a life on stage, on the screens,

and glossy pages. Got a job, money, a friend, a flat, even an exotic cat. 

Anything money can buy, anything, everything, my heart's desire. Harmless. Harmless desire. 

Make enough to meet demand. We supply, we demand. 

So much light, it fills the sky, where pop stars live on Mars, 

Making food from synthetic dreams that feed on fear, trail of tears. 

Oceans of tears. Twenty years of tears, 

A holy war beckons end of times, a revelation born in the desert

Under starry starry night. 

So beautiful. So calm and bright. 

Silent silence on the right and silence on the left. 

Somewhere in the middle is a place where heaven and Earth collide at the speed of light. Stop time, stop in time, step in time with Shiva's dance, across the universe, and on and on. I love you. 

I love you so much, my beautiful child. My beautiful harmless child.  

This is a poem I "downloaded" all at once from divine inspiration while I followed my 7 and 9 year old children through the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry.  It was, in part, an answer to questions that arose over a period of time following growing awareness around the causes of earthquakes in Kansas and Oklahoma in the United States.  My mother lives in Harper County, Kansas, just over the southern border from Oklahoma.  The folks who live in the county, on the whole, have not experienced the extreme consequences of the economic depression of the last 10 years due to the discovery and use of modern oil and natural gas fracturing methods, including new disposal methods for the high saline water produced when deep oil areas like the Mississippian Play are drilled.

The rest of my family lives in Northern California, the state capitol of Sacramento and the home of one of the first hydro electric dam projects in the country.  In its antiquated form, it has been kept as a historical site. 

As I attempted to explain the concept of energy to my children, we couldn't miss the opportunity to explore the origins of power.  

Seeing as how power seems to be the heart of our American culture in so many ways, this was a tangible explanation of our present condition.  How can we explain to our children the choices we have made over time to increase our dependence on oil and electricity as a symbol of prosperity.  

My eventual response was to sit quietly with all that I know and feel about power and to ask the question, "How will we live now?". 

Learn more:  Hydro Power and Power: An Indigenous Rights Perspective 

                      Solar Energy for Kids (In India!)  (Youtube Film) 

A Radical Kind Of Love

When I observe my Quaker community with eyes of love, I see great potential for societal change.  I see it in the way long-time Friends address expressed disparities in opportunities for leadership by young people.  I see it in the response from young Friends when they see the good intentions of long-time Friends as they falter and struggle to listen.  It's this certain kind of perfection that persists in the Society of Friends and it's this hope and resilience that keeps Friends from leaving our small international community of spiritual peace activists.  And now, it is the humble, yet disturbing realization that American Friends have continued to accept privilege from a white supremacist, dominant culture.  Friends of color have been excluded from leadership since emancipation but resilient in delivering a loving message of imperfection despite now welling anger and sadness at the ignorance of many Friends.

Though it is a powerful temptation to step back and criticize our communities and organizations for their ongoing acceptance of power over others, it is more in alignment with the leadings of the Spirit to point out all of the reasons why we can change.  It is right to open our eyes to the tragic difference between who we can be and who we are right now.  To have this vision of a world transformed, means hearing the prophetic voices of Friends who are describing what this new world of inclusion looks like and how we as Friends look when we are in it.  Together, we must hold hands and leap across the river of disbelief and arrive hand in hand on the other side, where all are welcomed, encouraged, empowered, and acknowledged for their gifts, regardless of how the dominant culture functions. 

When Friends walk by the leadings of Spirit in every step, we are guided through darkness and tribulation with hope and joy.  When we keep in the presence of the Light and refresh ourselves constantly with the breath of this presence, we are with one another beyond the walls of the meetinghouse.  Yet, we are not separate from those around us, who have nothing to do with the Society of Friends and could care less about whether we are humble or honest.  It is out in the world, walking with Black Lives Matter and others that are not Friends' organizations, where we shine with this strength.  When we walk in the Light of God/Spirit, this Light is in each living presence we encounter, but most importantly, it shines on our darkness as well.  For me, it is like being hugged and held by a forgiving, strengthening, and loving force that is coming from within and yet is all around.  I feel safe, and at the same time very awake to the violence and inequality I sense around me, sometimes apparent only in imperceptibly small ways.  It is gratitude I feel when I walk in this way.  

It is the belief in our ability as humans to be in this radically loving place that I hope I share with all Quakers that gives me the strength to stay in this vision of transformation beyond the reality of violence and inequality.  

Learn More:  Fit For Freedom, Not For Friendship (Book) 
                      Women of Color Speak Out (Seattle)

The Gathering

Dr. Nekima Levy Pounds, a civil rights attorney, community organizer, and law professor, spoke to Friends gathered in the wake of yet another killing of a man of color by police in Minneapolis. She spoke to us as the holders of privilege and authority. Here is a poem that arose out of this event. 

VOICES 

Speak to me truly 

this time I tell you 

I will hear my place 

On top is killing 

My place where I am safe 

And you are not

For property returned undone 

Undone of self respect 

We cannot confiscate

Cannot conceal 

Hands are up to silence 

This murmur long and deep 

Hands up, don't shoot 

Hands up for a silent silence 

In a room screaming 

Say you're sorry! 

Give it back! 

It's not yours to take 

Or give 

Or live

All you got is time to listen

Open up your ears to hear

Your eyes to see 

Your whole selfs got to change

You're  a fragile egg shell 

Holding seeds of tiny prisoners 

In your hands

Who, instead of saving, you eat for breakfast next to the pigs and Irish potatoes

Whistling a tune for 

Woe be gone days when me and mine had all there was 

All the power 

All the land

All the rights

All the freedom 

Stolen from the flesh 

Of our own righteousness. 

Away away in Dixieland, there flows a river of blood wide and long, from South to North and West to East out into the desert growing in our hearts. 

And now you know, have always known. And love flows in, and through, for you, my children, for you. For you are now and this is when we stop our hands a wringing and set the system free.

Learn More:  Interview With Nekima Levy-Pounds- On Schools

Friends Journal: A Journey Toward Eliminating Racism In The Religious Society of Friends