Category: Spirituality

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The Angst of Inner Spaciousness

It’s been quite a summer. A wedding. A Be Present Black & Female National Conference where I was part of a diverse group of facilitators. A gathering with two organizations looking at “Money and the New Community.” And a Wisdom & Money Board meeting. All as my little grandson Daniel keeps growing cuter by the moment.

All year I’ve been releasing some of my very old, entrenched habits that are seriously unhelpful. That work plus the alchemical mix of these rich events of the summer has stretched me. It feels as if the boundaries of my life have expanded, whispering of possibility.

More openness in my life is gift, but right now it feels strange.

Sometimes this new inner territory seems blank. Its emptiness feels like something is seriously wrong and, thus, is very disconcerting. I know inner spaciousness is part of the transformative journey, but it’s tempting to try to fill up the space so I can feel “normal” again.

In addition, some of my old feelings and habits have crept back in, uninvited, and are creating quite a ruckus. They turn cartwheels. They call out in their tricky sounds-good voices trying to entice me to let them stay. I hear them. I see them. While I can’t ignore them, I’m not letting them take root in the soil of my expanded inner space.

Neither of these experiences—the unsettling emptiness nor the clanging old voices—are passing on through quickly. Quietly.

I’m impatient. I want to savor and write about all that is emerging—all I’ve learned—what I see from this vantage pint. But new words fail me, and I’m temporarily left with echoing silence or jangling old words.

I’m learning that this is the way transformation works—just like being courageous means I feel my roaring fears and move forward anyway.

At a time when I want to be writing regular blogs again, diving deeper than I’ve done before, I’m slowing down to adjust to the new inner spaciousness and freedom.

It is the fastest way I know to move forward.

 

I couldn’t resist including:

Daniel Gunner Thurston
4 months old
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From “Shut Up and Follow” to “Step Up and Lead”

There was a voice in my head that told me to shut up and follow. It was finally loud enough that I took notice when, during a cross-class Bible study on Jesus, Faith and Money, it bellowed inside me, “Why do you—a white, wealthy woman—think anyone could benefit from your ‘privileged’ perspective?” I shut up.

There are lots of variations on this theme within the social justice movement. Men need to shut up and follow. White men in particular. And wealthy folks.

There is a certain logic in this thinking. For 6,000 years, patriarchy has upheld men and the masculine as ideal, while deeming women and the feminine as subservient. The whole concept of whiteness was conjured up around 1790 to give power to people with light colored, “white” skin (as long as they weren’t southern Italian or Irish or Jewish). The current demand by some in the social justice movement toward those with cultural power and access to shut up and follow, many would assert, is merely a desperately needed rebalancing.

But, for me, this logic breaks down quickly. At this moment of deep divides, both ancestral and current, we need everyone to stand up and step into the fullness of their leadership. The only way out of this mess is through the full, creative thinking and perspective of all of us.

That does not, however, mean that people like me can lead, unconscious of our assumptions of the “right” (i.e. “white cultural”) way of taking charge.

Collaborative leadership that includes everyone demands that each of us takes a level of personal responsibility that is rare in our culture. This requires a process of unlearning and learning anew that requires conscious awareness of ourselves, and sharpening our skills for working collectively within diverse partnerships.

I wrote Big Topics at Midnight: A Texas Girl Wakes Up to Race, Gender, Power and Class because I understood two things. First, my family’s white skin let us settle into a white-centered view of the world without any conscious awareness of that privilege. In the writing, I sorted through assumptions and perspectives to see what things were true, what things held only part of the truth and what was completely false and out of alignment with my values. Second, I realized that I’d been almost exclusively raised with the white male perspective of history and current events.

The “silencing myself ah-ha” in the middle of my Bible Study class led me to the work of Be Present, Inc. There I learned a model that has been invaluable in waking up to both the injustice woven into the middle of our culture and into the edges of my mind.

This model, called the Be Present Empowerment Model, was birthed through the leadership of Black Women with a vision for a world not constrained to the injustices they had experienced but rather a vision of the playground of life where all are welcome to bring our full, creative selves.

Here are a few of my learnings along the path from “shut up” to “step up.”

I need to take the risk to step in to conversations with as much integrity and justice as I can muster, and the humility to admit it and change when I stumble.

I need to release my assumptions that the world has worked for everyone the same way it worked for me, and really listen with openness to other’s experiences.

I need to slow-down awkward moments in my interactions so I can take responsibility to know what is true about me—even when I don’t like what I see—and what is an inaccurate assumption.

In conversation, I need to listen to myself—those powerful inner voices—to see when I am listening more to myself than to the other person and when my mind begins to shape what I assume I am hearing.

And I need to show up with my sight as one sight among many. We need to hear the beautiful diversity of everyone’s perspective, including mine.

It takes partnership with others for me to “step up” as much ease as possible. Someone to help me remember the goodness of my heart when I stumble. Someone to stop me when my behavior smells like it might be tainted with the very injustice I am working to shift—even when I am in public and embarrassed that I “got caught.” Someone to help me keep my sense of humor.

While “shut-up and follow” might seem logical from one perspective, at this moment in history our world needs all of us to “step up and lead” as one part of the global collective.

This is the 25th year of Be Present, Inc. In honor of that anniversary, I’ve been pondering my learnings over the 15 years I’ve been part of the network. I’ll be flying to Atlanta the first week of November where I am part of the leadership for Be Present’s National Network Convening and 25th Anniversary Fundraiser. I invite you to join me in supporting this groundbreaking work by making a donation to Be Present, Inc.

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Memorials

People keep coming, bringing flowers, candles, notes, posters, photographs. Silent. Some sitting in the grass around the central of several the ever-growing altars. Some with their backs to the flowers and candles, turning instead to the chalk-covered wall of words. Others picking up pieces of chalk and adding their words to the “wall” that begins on the sidewalk near the street, past the gym that lines the Hollywood Transit Center, up the ramp walls and continues on the bridge to the steps down to the light rail Max stop. Others heading to catch the train, looking down and reading the words on the overpass under their feet.

I’ve seen little public altars before. They dot the highways with their white crosses, plastic flowers and little mementoes of lives cut suddenly short.

These spontaneous memorials are powerful altars. They hold so much: grief, an awareness of the beauty of life and the reality of death, memories, regrets, sadness, gratitude for gifts given long ago, lament, cries of the heart.

I have an altar at home. A multi-colored cloth spread over a small table in my office is set with a candle, a stick of incense, symbols of my faith, items of beauty that have meaning for me and symbols of people I love and am praying for. The items change as life moves on, but the altar remains.

Public and private altars are sacred places to sit with the huge mysteries of life and death, sacred and horrific. They help us stop and not rush through our feelings, giving grief and hope a chance to rest in our hearts and bones for a while.

There is talk that the Portland transit system will erect a permanent memorial here. The heartfelt impulse is beautiful, but that sort of official altar is more complicated.

Why a memorial here, and not at other places of death and heroism? Are some deaths more worth marking in public than others? Are some acts of heroism bigger than others? Is the undercurrent of cultural racism, ethnic bias or sexism within our culture influencing the decision of who/what gets honored?

These questions are too often unasked when our public hearts are broken and we want to “do something.” But they are questions that need to be asked as we as a nation seek to transform the very divisions that were at the heart of the tragedy that exploded at the Hollywood Transit Center. Sustainable and equitable partnership across our differences is the memorial I seek.

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Nothing Lasts Forever

 

Nothing lasts forever;

No one lives forever.

Keep that in mind, and love.*

These words have danced through my head all spring. For the last few months, almost a dozen friends and family have experienced a traumatic, life changing event. Sometimes resulting in death, but more often in an event that will change them forever. Even after “normal” life returns.

Friday afternoon, just as I was finishing a support group call with friends, police car after police car streaked down the street in front of my home. It was an hour before I knew what had happened. During what most expected to be a routine light rail trip home before a holiday week end, a white man began yelling hateful things to two Muslim young women. Three men stepped in to try to deescalate the situation. The ranting man pulled out a knife and killed two of the men and injured the third.

A Memorial Day holiday that, for two families, began with death, for one family, began with a hospitalization, and for all the rest unfortunate enough to have been in that light rail car, began with witnessing hatred and death and compassion.

I too will die one day. Maybe today. All that I think of as essential parts of my life will one day pass, maybe in the blink of an eye.

Tagore reminds me that I must keep that reality in mind, and still love.

Love. Open my heart again and again. Knowing that nothing last forever.

This is at the heart of my spiritual path, the container that holds my whole life and death (both the daily little deaths and, one day, my physical death). I have many freedoms and choice in my life, but I am not charge of everything life brings to me. Life and death have their own rhythm and power, in my life and in all of nature. Birth, life, death and rebirth are all part of the natural cycle of life.

How we live matters. How we die matters. How we savor life and then, when it is time, release life, matters. For me, life invites me to live fully—savoring the gifts that surround me—and to die open-heartedly—surrendering to the big divine love in every moment.

The Rule of St. Benedict admonishes, “Keep death before you daily.” Know that only by fully accepting death can we fully accept life.

In our death-phobic culture, remembering our death and honoring the transitory nature of life seems crazy. In reality, it is the only way.

*Illustration by Khara Scott-Bey. Poem by Rabindranath Tagore

This blog is dedicated to the three who bravely stepped forward Friday in an attempt to bring peace to a violent moment— Micah David-Cole Fletcher, Ricky John Best and Taliesin Myrddin Namkai Meche (The latter two died in the process). And to all my friends, and yours, whose life in these past few months has taken them to places they never would have chosen. And to my mother, Mary Sue Tipps Mathys, on this eve of what would have been her 91 birthday. Thirty years after her death, I still feel Mom’s presence and guidance.

 

 

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Transformation and Newton’s First Law

I’ve spent many years barreling along in very predictable ways. One of my life-long habits exhausts me more than the others: Without thinking, in the span of one afternoon, I nag Laura to track her spending, strongly suggest to Howard that our condo board hurry to place a lien on a past-due condo, and email a friend to suggest that she look at a situation in her life from a specific perspective that makes sense to me.

It’s exhausting to try to keep tabs on so many people, and I am tired of being so disrespectful to others in the guise of helping. (Obviously I want to continue to be present to others in ways that are indeed helpful, but micromanaging other’s lives has a totally different feel to it.)

It all comes down to making the choice to step out of my usual rut of telling people what I think they should do and then choosing not to mettle in their business. Problem is, I have to do that over and over again within the span of each day.

It feels like a huge leap to imagine relating in a new, less controlling way on a regular basis. Am I up to making such a drastic change? What if 62 years of habit it too strong to turn away from?

Churning, I brewed a second cup of tea and sat down to talk to Howard, my engineering husband.

That is where Newton’s first law of motion entered the conversation. Newton, Howard explained, said that an object—me—has a natural tendency to continue to do what I am doing—resisting change in my state of motion…

…unless acted upon by a force.

In other words, by habit I am sailing along with ease, navigating life in the speed and direction I’ve always been going. Little effort is required to steer. However, when I want to make a course correction, something bold is required of me.

It’s possible, but dangerous and difficult, to try to make a sudden course correction. Turning while going full speed ahead usually results in either a crash or seriously overshooting my goal.

Its far easier to make this course correction by slowing down first. Slowing down means opening up the moment that got me to the point where I am tempted to react out of my old rutted ways. What was happening inside me just before the sparks started flying? How about the moment just before that? The earlier I can slow myself down, the easier it is to access my intuition and spirit, make choices to overcome the momentum, and make a choice to step outside of my old course. This would allow me to make a fresh and new choice more in line with my values.

Changing course mid-stream is only half the battle, as Newton’s law is also in effect when I am at rest, docked at the shore. At that point, there is great inertia that must be overcome in order to get me to move at all. I know the stuck feeling of sitting in meetings, knowing that something is happening, in me or in the room, that feels off, knowing that I should ask a question or share my perspective. Too often the inertia is strong, and I remain silent.  There are lots of reasons for my inertia—I don’t want to slow down the meeting, I’m timid around a particular person, I fear I would be a pain in the butt to voice the question, or I don’t want to speak when I am confused rather than fully clear.

All those are real feelings. They are inner voices and fears to notice, but not always to direct my behavior. I need to reach down deep inside me to find the spirit force that remembers the responsibility of my partnership in the task at hand, take the risk, and respectfully speak.

I need to make these course corrections personally, for sure. But this moment in our nation’s history where we are so deeply divided and confused, the momentum behind our nation’s ship is powerful in places where we are barreling along full-speed ahead like we’ve done for generations or mired in the muck unable to move at all in places where she is stuck.  Everyone is needed at this moment in our nation’s history—all hands-on deck so to speak—ready to step out in new and life-giving ways. In our personal lives (we need to start there/a great practice place) and in our public lives, this requires us all to slow down and respectfully take risks that make the choice for love, justice and equity for everyone and all of creation. Each day.

Sometimes a good engineer, with a little help from Newton, is the best spiritual director.

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Wail after Bombing

The US just bombed Syria. The latest in a long string of military strikes using violence to fight violence to bring “justice.” We keep trying the same solution seeking a different result.

No wonder I kept crawling back into bed yesterday. I am in grief about the latest actions of the homeland I love.

I don’t yet know the rest of the hidden story about circumstances that led to this attack on Syria, but I can’t help noticing that the US has angered Russia at the very moment our current administration is under investigation about Russian involvement in our presidential election. If my hunch turns out to be correct, it wouldn’t be the first time that a US President turned to war to distract us from a problem here at home. Bill Clinton and LB Johnson come to mind.

Sometimes we step into military action based on lies. Vietnam, for example. While running for office on a platform of being aggressive and restrained at the same time, Johnson needed a national security risk to justify military action in Vietnam. This risk came in the form of unprovoked North Vietnamese PT boat attacks on two US ships.

In response, Johnson said, “Yet our response, for the present, will be limited and fitting. We Americans know, although others appear to forget, the risks of spreading conflict. We still seek no wider war…but it is my considered conviction, shared throughout your Government, that firmness in the right is indispensable today for peace; that firmness will always be measured. Its mission is peace.”¹

It turned out, however, that the first attack was provoked. Johnson admitted privately that we had been carrying out “some covert operations in that area” like “blowing up some bridges and things of that kind, roads, so forth. So I imagine they wanted to put a stop to it.”² The second attack, however, the one used to justify a US military response, never happened. It was completely fabricated.

Then we had the Iraq War of 2003. The truth was obvious to many prior to our invasion, and the facts have since become public.

Cuba was a different issue. The US almost stepped into a nuclear war during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Russia, a Cuban ally, tried to secretly deploy nuclear weapons to Cuba. Horrified that nuclear weapons were so close to US shores, Kennedy’s secret White House audio tape recorded him saying, “It’s just as if we suddenly began to put a major number of MRBMs [Medium Range Ballistic Missiles] in Turkey. Now that’d be goddam dangerous.”³ Problem was, that was exactly what we had done, despite prior assurances to Russia that we would not install missiles in next to their borders. Both US and Russia’s actions were dangerous.

There is more to the story of many US wars than reached our press—North Korea, Russia, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan. In addition to military action, we’ve also played a role in helping to topple democratically elected presidents in Iran, Belgian Congo and Guatemala. And don’t forget our land theft through lies and war with the Indigenous Native American People.

We Americans have steadfastly been unwilling to look at the shadow side of our nation’s history. We cling for dear life to the pure image of the US as a beacon for democracy seeking justice for everyone. There is some truth in that image, but our actions fall short of our vision.

The more we prop up the image of a blameless US, the more we continue to project our evil onto other countries.

There is another option. Ironically, addressing these international crises must begin with me. And you.

I’ve always known that there was a direct relationship between the personal and the global. We can’t fight against war between nations when a war rages within us. Personal wars spill out in disrespectful and arrogant behavior with people in our homes, with other drivers on our roads, within our communities. Fighting violence with violence, popular as it is, will only lead to more violence.

This is not a time where we can lazily believe the “official American story.” I uncovered the truth hidden in the version of history I’d learned in school when writing Big Topics at Midnight: A Texas Girl Wakes Up to Race, Class Gender and Herself. Getting accurate information wasn’t difficult, and didn’t require too much digging. I learned a bit more history this week reading Dorothie and Martin Hellman’s A New Map for Relationships: Creating True Love At Home & Peace On The Planet. Most of the examples and quotes in this blog are from the Hellmans’ book, but this information is easily found elsewhere. We just have to be willing to see.

“Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me,” may sound like a flaky sentiment too weak to resolve global conflicts. And it is, if we think finding peace within ourselves and our communities is about thinking sweet thoughts and being nice. The open-hearted, compassionate but fierce love required to honestly look at ALL of ourselves—the beauty and gifts as well as the narrow-minded and short-sighted assumptions—can pave the way for us to wake up and realign with our personal and national vision. For us as individuals. For communities. And for all of creation.

Grief must be part of the process. Grief right in the middle of our grief-phobic culture. We’ve tried to step over heart-wrenching experiences, both personally and nationally. This turning away from grief has resulted in stunted living, rendering us unable to appreciate the exquisite gift of life itself and unable to honestly look at those parts of our behavior that are in direct conflict with our values. Climbing back into bed again and again today was part of honoring my grief. Getting out of bed at 3 a.m. and writing my way through this week’s news was my next step. I am listening for whatever mix of grief and action that comes next for me.

I’ve seen how communities change when one person takes the risk to behave honorably and honestly. I know it is possible for a small group of people to bring about huge, global shifts. I believe that grace steps in powerfully in response to a transformed heart. The ripples spread from individuals to people around the globe.

I also know the inspiring vision at the heart of this country, and the beautiful global diversity of Americans. My wail is a love cry to my people and my nation. It is time to hold the full paradox that is us, and step into the fullness of our Vision.

 

1. Dorothie and Martin Hellman, A New Map For Relationships: Creating True Love at Home & Peace On the Planet, New Map Publishing, 2016, page 183. The transcript of President Johnson’s August 4, 1964 television address is accessible online.

2. Hellman and Hellman, page 179. From Michael R. Beschloss, Taking Charge: The Johnson White House Tapes, 1963-64, page 493-494.f I first learned about this through Jim Stockdale’s first-hand account of that night on the US Maddox in his memoir In Love and War.

3.  Hellman and Hellman, page 237-238. From Sheldon M Stern’s The Week the World Stood Still: Inside the Secret Cuban Missile Crisis, page50

 

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Fearless in a Time of Fear: Loving in a Time of Hate

skyFall fearlessly into love.* That may sound like a very weak way to stand steady in our world today, but it is the only way that makes sense to me.

Our divisions are too deep and old for lashing out with hatred and disrespect. Something much bolder, more impossible, is required. For me, response starts with a roar from my heart as I seek to fall fearlessly into love.

For decades I’ve been waking up to the hidden and not so hidden destruction that lies within the heart of our beautiful nation. Too much of our unacknowledged history is in direct opposition to our nation’s bold assertion of freedom and justice for all:

…We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men [sic] are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

(Declaration of Independence)

…in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity…

(Constitution of the United States)

A great vision pulses through the founding documents of our nation. Unable to embody that vision, our legacy has included dangerous irregularities within the heart of our nation. We need to become, in Rev. William Barber words, “moral defibrillators of our time” and restart our nation’s heart back to the just and steady rhythm of her founding values.

Reflecting in Loving Your Enemies, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote “… within the best of us, there is some evil, and within the worst of us, there is some good …  And when you come to the point that you look in the face of every [person] and see deep down within them what religion calls ‘the image of God,’ you begin to love [them] in spite of.  … When you rise to the level of love, of its great beauty and power, you seek only to defeat evil systems.”

Fierce Love holds the possibility of systemic and individual transformation. Hatred, on the other hand, holds the seeds of destruction.

Fall fearlessly into love. That is the only way I know powerful enough to ensure that I land solidly on my feet, heart open and mind clear. From there I seek the courage to take seriously my partnership with Spirit, my global family and my nation and work for justice, general welfare and liberty for all.

Even when my knees shake or my heart wobbles.

 

*inspired by a story of Cynthia Bourgeault’s, found in “The Wisdom Way of Knowing,” pp. 70-71

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3:00 a.m.

I am no stranger to middle of the night risings. Too often I am wide awake at 3 or 4 a.m., filled with a mix of fear—of real possibilities or something wild from my imagination—and creativity. For much of the fall, however, I cozily slept past my usual time of night risings.

That shifted after the election. Real fears, imagined fears and creativity all swirled together, leaving me unable to return to sleep.

Real fears threaten my dreams of justice for our world. I must continue to wake up to both historical and current realities in the world around me, laying aside well-worn sound bites of misinformation. Starting with myself, I must notice when the cultural shards of fear and hate show up inside me, and take quick action to align my heart and behavior. Then, I must speak what is mine to say and take the action that is mine to take.

Imagined fears roil one after another. Here I easily teeter at the edge of a nightmare, too paralyzed or horrified to move.

Creativity dances in the middle of it all. For decades I’ve been practicing creative ways to communicate across differences, to embrace diversity and to act in alignment with my values and heart. This moment in our nation’s history demands profound creativity. Playful innovation, even in a time of crisis, has the power to break through our divisions to let something unexpected emerge.

I have spent my entire life honing the skills and practices I will need for this very moment. Nevertheless, part of me doesn’t feel ready. But epic adventures usually start without completed preparation—Hobbit Balbo Baggins left without his pocket-handkerchief and Queen Elise was taken, kicking and screaming, wearing a silk nightgown. Their fictional adventures support my in-the-flesh adventure of living my own life.

This is a moment that requires me to stand steady in the paradoxes of this scary midnight hour. I have to hold onto my critical thinking and seek facts rather comfortable, well-worn arguments. I have to hold onto attentive, conscious listening, especially in conversations with those with whom I disagree. I have to be creative in seeking partnerships across what feels like an abyss of difference.

abyss-walker
Abyss Walker Nancy

Years ago, in the middle of a Harvest Time sacred play ritual, I sat at a table with a group of characters. We were invited to don any of the costumes strewn around the room and come to the table dressed as the part of us that always felt excluded from the party. I don’t remember my outfit, but I clearly remember the name I gave that hidden part of myself—Abyss Walker.

Today, I honor the abyss walker part of myself. As much as I may go kicking and screaming, complaining that I am not up to the task, I know how to walk open heartedly across an abyss, the deep fissures that cut deeply across our nation and world.

First, I keep my heart open and grateful. Next, I listen—really listen—to others. This is the sort of listening I’ve been practicing in the Be Present Empowerment Model—listening to the other while simultaneously listening to myself. I need to know when the voices in my own head have grown louder than the person I am trying to listen to. Those inner thoughts are legion: My rebuttal; my fears; my corrections; my facts; and my horror. Pretending to listen when all I can hear is my own inner voice is disrespectful and leaves me with no ability to hear what is actually being said. The partnership across difference that I seek requires that I am consciously hearing the person I am listening to, and that I do whatever I need to do to keep my attention on her/him.

This sort of listening requires a level of personal responsibility that often pisses me off. It isn’t fair. Why do I have to listen so respectfully when I don’t feel respectfully listened to?

Why indeed? The only person I am responsible for is me. I have a clear choice. I can feel virtuous in my beliefs and only listen to people with whom I agree, but that choice will allow the divisions to grow and deepen. Or I can honor my values, my spirit and my faith and act in ways—in this case to listen—that flow from my deepest desire.

And yet, I can’t abdicate responsibility for showing up in the world in the fullness of my personal leadership. We need every one of us fully present, each stepping into our full leadership. I have been given a perspective and longing that must be spoken, and acted on. This is no place for silence, for playing nice.* It is a time for respectful conversations across our differences—seeking places of common ground that may be hidden by the passion of our beliefs, and refraining from demonizing the other person—all the while, sharing the perspective that is mine to share.

I have spent most of my adult life working for root level change—of our hearts, spirits and of the society. I do believe that our democracy has long been broken and filled with historical and current injustice. Profound change is needed. This election showed that millions of Americans agree that root level change is needed.

I believe that trying to change our nation from the top down, as we have done in this election, is the hardest way. But here we are. Abyss Walker will take me where the more timid parts of myself fear to tread. Who is the brave adventurer inside you, ready to lead you on the sacred path that is yours to walk for the good of our world?

*Nice is a word that has too long been held as a virtue for women, despite the fact that the origins of the word “nice” includes stupid, ignorant, incapable, silly and coy.

Novels mentioned are J.R.R Tolkien’s The Hobbit and Rae Carson’s Girl of Fire and Thorns

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Giving our Allegiance

us-flagIt was a quiet statement, probably unnoticed by the people standing next to me. One hand holding the Sunday hymnal, one hand holding onto the church pew in front of me, knees shaking slightly at what felt like disobedience, I scanned the creeds and hymns to see which parts I could honestly say or sing. I’d decided not to speak the parts I no longer believed. It was the best way I knew to stay inside of my spiritual integrity. I knew these were ancient words, loved and honored by Christians, but I had too much respect to utter ones that no longer felt true.

Forty years later, I don’t remember exactly which phrases I refused to repeat. But I do remember the conviction that I could no longer go along with the crowd and speak what was out of alignment with my beliefs.

I’ve thought of my quiet protest, one that was heartfelt but required little public notice, in these months as people are taking similar—but very public—actions regarding our national anthem.

I know it is easy for white skinned people like me to feel included in the words of the national anthem. Francis Scott Key, the author of this anthem, believed blacks to be “a distinct and inferior race of people, which all experience proves to be the greatest evil that afflicts a community.” Most EuroAmericans at the time agreed with him.

That sort of blatant racism is rare today but it is far from gone. The black community and other communities of color have felt its brunt continuously since Key wrote the anthem. Far too slowly, racism in America is coming out of the shadows, finally forcing white skinned people to examine the generational impact of decades of redlining and limited access to education and jobs, mass incarceration disproportionately of blacks, and police shootings of unarmed black men.

Even today this nation’s laws, and how those laws are carried out, is set up to make sure that light skinned people are freer than those with darker skin. Unfortunately, our US culture still keeps us divided, thus hindering white skinned people from knowing the reality of the lives of black and brown people–and so many people who look like me deny that this injustice still exists.

Colin Kaepernick could no longer in integrity stand during the national anthem, an anthem that never included him. Neither could the Beaumont Bulls. These, and others like them, are standing in good company of those across the generations along side others who have loved the soul of America enough to call her to truly become the land of the free for everyone.

Protesting the national anthem to stand against racism and violence against black youth and adults is a brave and patriotic act. An act of the brave among us.

I am grateful. Thank you, those who kneel during the national anthem, for calling our country to finally live into the beautiful values of freedom and justice for all.

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Stepping into What I Hated

I hated economics in college, yet most of my adult life has been diving deeply into money, class and economic justice.

I hate fundraising, yet I have been part of Be Present, Inc.’s fundraising team for twelve years.

Though I entered this field kicking and screaming, I’ve discovered that working with money offers an exquisite doorway to spiritual transformation and that addressing all aspects of fundraising can take the lead in social justice. While “economics” and “fundraising” sounded dull, spiritual transformation and social justice made my heart sing. The draw has been strong enough that I’ve continued this exploration of the intersection of money and faith for over thirty years.

Below is a distillation of Be Present’s Vision-Based, Social Change Fund Development philosophy, where we work to expand the boundaries of philanthropy while building a social justice movement sustained by trust, mutual respect and equality.

Even if you are disinterested in philanthropy as a subject, I hope that this perspective gives you hope in these times when money is at the heart of so much darkness.

Vision-based

Be Present, Inc. believes that philanthropy can take the lead in the journey for social change. Our fundraising is vision based; we begin and end with our vision in mind. This vision is guided by four core values: Grassroots democracy; Diversity; Equality and Inclusion; Personal and Global Responsibility.

We develop our fundraising strategy to be in alignment with these values, and then bring together the resources – people, time and money – to make the vision a reality. We believe that collaborative learning, transformative leadership and building effective relationships is what leads to sustainable fundraising. Therefore, everyone who participates in the network financially invests in our work together, supported by the Board’s Vision-Based Social Change Fund Development Team.

Social Change

Access to resources shapes social movements in the U.S. These resources – time, labor, and particularly money – are vital to organizational survival and political success. Exploring who gives, how they give, and the effects of the giving have an impact on effecting sustainable justice and therefore are important political questions to address. The Be Present Vision-Based Social Change Fund Development Model is based on the core principles that raising money is political and that all people from all backgrounds are contributors to and benefit from the work of social justice.

Illustration by Khara Scott-BeyBe Present’s guiding principle is that philanthropy’s success is measured not only by where money is given, but also the process by which it is given. We commit to raising while using the Be Present Empowerment Model® to examine the dynamics of race, class, gender and power that influence fundraising and giving practices.

Be Present has a commitment to work with diverse individuals and organizations. Not willing to allow the ability to pay the full price be the deciding factor of who can access our services, we offer a sliding payment scale. To simultaneously thrive so we can continue to support the social change movement, Be Present has developed both a detailed budged for the actual costs of offering the trainings/consultancies and a multi-pronged, collaborative funding stream.

First, we ask individuals/organizations to pay at the highest rate they comfortably can. Second, we offer support to people/organizations to envision a fundraising plan to help raise funds to cover the costs. Third, the giving and fundraising by those in the Be Present network and our financial supporters are focused on ensuring that the diversity and inclusivity that weave through our mission and vision are reflected in all aspects of our work.

The Vision-Based Social Change Fund Development Team has compelling monthly dialogues to develop skills in building long-lasting, thriving relationships; bringing more of one’s whole self into their giving; addressing money and privilege dynamics in relationships; understanding giving practices of diverse communities; and promoting innovative, sensitive and respectful philanthropic practices.

Fund development

Fund development is the process by which Be Present uses fundraising (and other revenue-generating vehicles) to build capacity and sustainability. The focus is on expanding and further diversifying Be Present, Inc.’s funding sources—from fundraising efforts, fee-for-services (consulting contracts and training registration fees) and merchandise sales.

While fundraising itself still isn’t my favorite activity, I love the doors it opens to a transformation of our spirit and our relationship with our global human family.