Crestfallen

My community of choice would be one that lives up to (or at least conscientiously holds mindfulness about) these principles:

The inherent worth and dignity of every person;

Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;

Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;

A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;

The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;

The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;

Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

Unfortunately, my experience is that the first principle goes out the window as soon as someone feels "wronged" in some way. Then, the inherent worth and dignity of the "OTHER" is discarded in the righteous indignation of the offended party. And nothing seems powerful enough to pull us back on course, back to mindfulness that we are all striving to live by these principles -- that this is what we have in COMMON. Only what divides us, what makes ME better than THEM, is important anymore.

I'm so disappointed. And I'm not exempt from transgressing in the same way. I want to have my wrongs righted, and when I'm whipped into this righteous indignation myself, I forget completely that the OTHER also has inherent worth and dignity.




It makes me want to live on a deserted island, sometimes. It's so much easier to be mindful, alone.

And yet, community is something I value so highly ....

Pondering imponderables.

Can these principles and human nature be reconciled? Or are they ideals unreachable by mere humans?

"Enough"

Holding the question is an amazing practice. This morning, I packed up my food for the day ... noticing there were little bits of this and little dabs of that, which I gathered from the refrigerator ... not knowing what I would choose to eat during the day, and what would be left to come back home again.

As I unpacked breakfast at my desk, choosing the container of cereal with half a peach and the reuseable container of milk, and noting again

• the tiny container of leftover winter fruit salad and
• the other tiny container of pseudo-chicken bbq,
• two clementines and
• three mini pitas,

I found my mind asking,

What am I choosing?

The immediate answer, coming from ... where? (Ah, that's the beauty and the mystery of it!) said, clearly, simply:

Enough.

I'm basking in the simplicity and the "rightness" of that answer.

Have I finally reached the border and stepped over the line, free from the constant underlying feeling that haunted me throughout my childhood, early adulthood, 30s, 40s .... that there was not enough, that I was not enough?

In this moment, I am hopeful and content. Enough.