July 30 – July 31, 2017

This is the first step in our effort to reroute the rain water so that it feeds rather than destroys. I stood and listened as the water made its runoff across the stones before reaching one of the flower bed areas. The rain splashed my face with gentle taps and there was no evidence of the force it showed at my feet, but each drop added to the torrent. The thought occurred to me, a troubled thought, about how easy paths form. It is always easier to go with the flow. It took a lot of work to reroute, to do something different, to feed rather than destroy. These thoughts led me to consider many things, one of which I could not neglect especially in the month of July.

I have Buddhist, Christian, Atheist, Muslim, and Agnostic friends. We all remain friends because we agree everyone deserves the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We’re called Americans by the Declaration of Independence of the United States of America.

Please, don’t define great with division or your children will strive to divide themselves determined to define themselves as great by claiming someone else less. There is a reason Hitler’s youth grew up to believe there was a class of people who had no rights, and were not even human.

We are all human, all connected, all eager for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; it’s possible for that to be different things for each of us and us remain connected if we are patient, kind, and compassionate. It’s always easier to keep people out of your group than it is to find a way to include them. It’s never easy, but we are not a people who look for an easy way.

Maybe we can reroute to the America that is the United States with . . .

Life: The America where the old help the young and the young help the old.

Liberty: The America where rights aren’t revoked while you’re serving your country.

The Pursuit of Happiness: The America where an Iranian born immigrant female can marry a non-muslim and define a new level of mathematics.

 

The America that is spirit and breath to the connection of humanity

I once believed that we were free

A people ne’er ashamed to be

The ones who give a steady hand

To the struggling swimmer just off land.

Yet now our tempers flare and rage

Our connection lost like a book’s ripped page.

I realize now that freedom starts

By lights that shine amidst the dark

The smallest torch held high enough

Can guide a ship when the seas are rough

But a lighthouse on a storm tossed see,

Or a lady representing liberty

Can only shine to rescue them

If there is a light that shines within. —Alexis Westmore