September 27, 2016 – Belonging to each other – beyond right and wrong

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Where we live in Marin County, California, it is a sea of blue – political blue. I don’t know the percentages, but overall, California leans towards the liberal end of the spectrum, the San Francisco Bay Area even more so, and Marin is right up there, amongst the most liberal counties in the country. Being surrounded by a large majority of people who share our views, it’s really easy to speak freely and openly – to share our reactions to what’s going on in the world, full of opinion and certainty as we do. Earlier this year, I learned that one of the regular members of one of our groups, believes differently. She is a self-described “staunch conservative.”

This is stretching me as a leader and as a person. Mostly we don’t talk politics, but there have been a couple of times, that the conversation moved into the political arena. We all stayed respectful, but I felt the tension and I knew it was upon me to hold the space, to keep it safe for everyone. I said something about how our views can be woven into deep parts of us and we may need to agree to disagree. I want our shared painting time, to be a refuge from stress as much as possible.

Then, last week, I forgot myself.  I walked into the kitchenette where my mom and another person, were quietly talking politics. Without thinking, I shared how I had emailed a friend in Britain about what might happen, if the person I oppose ends up our next president. I wasn’t mindful of the volume of my voice, I just spouted. Then I realized where I was and reminded myself who I was – the leader of this little group. Oh, gosh. I felt awful. Did she hear me from the opposite end of the room? I couldn’t risk not knowing – I had to ask. When she next asked me for help on her painting, I knelt down at her table and softly asked her: did you hear me when I was talking in the kitchen? She said she hadn’t. Oh, good.

But then I felt I needed to tell her why I asked. I told her that I was with those who share my views, and I indulged in what I called “tribal talk.” I said I was sorry and I reiterated I wanted to do all I can, to make sure she always feels safe and a sense of belonging amongst us. This started a short conversation between the two of us, about opening to those whose views we don’t share. I recently listened to a level-headed conservative person, to try to understand what is behind their stance – what values I may share that drive their views – and what I may be blind to, that is the shadow side of liberal actions and positions.

My coming clean with her was a huge relief. I did not feel judged or viewed any differently.  She graciously said that I’m only human.  And the experience was a lesson, about being in a leadership position. As casual and un-authoritative as I generally am, I feel a responsibility to conduct myself with more discipline, in what I say and how I say it – especially during our group time. I am grateful for the sense of myself, that I’ve come to at this point in my life. I trust in my own basic goodness, which gave me the courage to admit what I’d done and express my regret. The connection I felt with her was completely separate from our political views. Our views aren’t the entirety of who we are. Our views can matter greatly to us, but on another level, they are just our views. It felt open hearted – we were receptive to each other, as two women who share the love of watercolor.

I woke up today with the first sentence of this Rumi poem in my head:

Beyond our ideas of right-doing and wrong-doing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase ‘each other’
doesn’t make sense any more.
There’s so much judgement and talk about what’s “right” and “wrong” in the world. I believe we do need to be engaged in our society – our common life. At the same time, I have an aversion to the polarization in it – which seems to be increasing. I can’t bear to listen to much of what is said – even by the pundits on “my side.” So much of it is inflammatory and divisive. I’ve been taking myself off email lists and being careful about what I read – and how much. It just upsets me. There are those who are called to be fighters – and to them, I say: “you go!” But go be effective – I am not interested in anyone’s rants. As for me – I’m not a good fighter. I’m so not at my best when I get riled up. I’m here to be a connector. I’m called to stay in relationship and increase my capacity to hear what’s being said – as long as it’s honest and thoughtful, and I can share too.

But what I really want to do is just make art together. If Rumi thought that the world was “too full to talk about” in the early thirteenth century, then it’s certainly so today. The purpose of our groups is to paint, to share our creative lives, encourage each other’s unfolding as artists. To do this, we need to stay connected. And in stretching ourselves as we paint on our Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, there are plenty of “right” and “wrong” voices in our heads as it is! To some, this may appear as burying my head in the sand. But it is really not. It is a service to everyone to still the waters as much as we can. Cultivating wonder and delight is life-on-the-planet-affirming.

There are some translations of this Rumi poem, that use the word “garden” instead of the world “field.” Last Wednesday nine of us found our way to a garden – back down to Filoli down in Woodside – to see what was there in the early autumn. The parking lot was half as full as it was in April, when spring was on full display. I felt a profound peace when I walked into the garden, that was a balm to my nervous system. The espaliered apple trees that I last saw in covered in white flowers and pink buds, were filled with deep red apples. There were cabbages and peppers and bright orange zinnias. Ever my favorite, the roses were still showing off. I captured a perfect image to paint of strawberries. It was lovely to share this experience with each other.

Belonging is a human need. Nothing good happens without it. One of my most closely held beliefs, is that we all belong to each other – every single one of us – even those who don’t believe this too. “They” belong too. Really. I wonder what would happen if we were all able to live this way? It’s my hope and prayer that, though the progress is slow and imperfect, this is where we are headed.

It’s my privilege to belong to you – I so appreciate how you receive me.

With my love,

Cara