As people all over the world celebrate, or recently celebrated Passover and Easter, I think about how both of those stories have never felt more relevant. To jog your memory, Passover is the story of Moses, the burning bush, and the 10 commandments. What I want to focus on in this post is the part where Moses commanded the Egyptian Pharaoh of the time to let the enslaved Jews go free and the Pharaoh refused. As retribution, God delivered 10 plagues. I’m not going to relay the whole story (you can read the rest here), but if I had to sum up the story of Passover, it’s about escaping plagues and seeking freedom.
It’s interesting to me the Hebrew word for Egypt, Mitzrayim, also means narrow spaces. I find that especially symbolic right now as we’re all in this global pandemic and under quarantine. We’re in a tight, narrow space, but Passover is the story of moving through that, of fleeing into freedom.
This picture evoked the burning bush and liberation for me. Photo by Will Truettner on Unsplash
Easter has a similar story of freedom. The way I’ve heard author Glennon Doyle characterize Easter is it’s a story of pain (i.e., the crucifixion), then the waiting (when Jesus was in a cave), and then the rising (when he resurrected). We are collectively in the waiting place, waiting for the rising, metaphorically speaking. We’re also collectively in the tight, narrow space, as we are besieged by the COVID-19 plague.
These holidays remind us of the deep, dark, painful things that happen to us in life, sometimes personally and sometimes in society, as well as the relief from no longer being there. These holidays celebrate the thrill of leaving those narrow spaces behind and being able to roam free. Passover and Easter are holidays that celebrate hope and courage without omitting the pain. We will eventually reach the promised land, so to speak, not without cost, but it will come.
I also think about a quote I repeat regularly from my spiritual teacher who said, “Difficulties can never be greater than your capacity to solve them.” Right now our difficulties may feel insurmountable, but the holidays many of us are celebrating remind us that’s not true. The holidays remind us it can take a while, a long, long while, but eventually liberation happens.
It’s premature to celebrate just yet, but I know it’s coming. That little bit of hope is what keeps me going. I want to know what’s on the other side of all this. Don’t you? How will I be changed and how will society be changed? Right now we don’t know yet because we’re in the middle of the story, but oh my goodness, I can’t wait to find out what’s next.
I dream of a world where we remember no matter what we’re going through, eventually it will pass. A world where we remember we, too, will be liberated from our narrow spaces at some point. A world where we take heart in stories from the past and use them as fuel for the future.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For more than a week I heard the strains of music, drums, and chants drifting through the air. I live near a school and the teachers were on strike for better pay and smaller classrooms, among other things.
What’s interesting to notice is I have a tendency to assume that if I ask nicely enough, I’ll get what I want. If I was a teacher and said “please,” surely the school district would have given me a raise? I think it’s safe to assume the teachers did ask nicely and the school district said no. They couldn’t accept that and took further action. Witnessing the strike I’m reminded sometimes we have to use force and pressure to meet our needs. Sometimes we have to protest and boycott and make a fuss.
Sometimes we have to make a fuss. Photo by Chris Slupski on Unsplash
I know that’s obvious, but it’s easy to be on the outside looking in and say, “Of course you have to behave that way,” and much harder to be in the situation ourselves. How many of us would stand up to an authority when it’s our own neck on the line? When we didn’t know how a situation would turn out? I’ve heard a lot of people say, “I would have marched during the Civil Rights movement,” but not as many are saying they’ve marched with the Black Lives Matter movement.
I’m not trying to shame anyone, I’m merely pointing out it’s harder to act with force in the moment when we don’t know the outcome. Some people might say acting with force isn’t spiritual. That spiritual people should be pacifists. My spiritual teacher disagrees.
He said, “In all actions of life, whether small or big, the unit mind progresses by surmounting opposing forces. Life evolves through the medium of force. If this force is not properly developed, life becomes absolutely dull. No wise person would advocate such a thing because this would be contrary to the very fundamentals of human nature.”
He also said, “The use of force against an aggressor is valor and desisting from such use of force is cowardice.” My spiritual teacher is not a “sit on your laurels, do nothing” kind of guy. He’s a “use force when necessary and stand up for yourself” kind of guy.
In case you’re wondering, by striking, the school district acquiesced to the teachers’ demands. They demonstrated by speaking up, by acting, by drawing a line in the sand, you can get what you want. That’s not universally true of course. Sometimes it takes multiple strikes and boycotts. Sometimes it takes years before injustice crumbles but by continuing to apply pressure, change happens.
For myself, I want to live in a pressure-free environment. I want pleasantries to be enough. I want ease and harmony all the time. However, that’s not realistic. It is impossible for us to remain static and inert. We either progress or we backslide. There is no staying still. Given those two choices, I’d much rather evolve than regress, and sometimes that means holding our ground until the other side relents.
I dream of a world where we recognize sometimes the use of force is necessary. A world where we realize being nice isn’t enough. A world where we remember in order to surmount obstacles we have to make an effort.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Something kicking around in my head today is the idea we are not problem solvers, we are solution allowers. When I’m confronted with a problem I automatically jump to, “How can I fix it?” I like to plot all the possible solutions to the problem and then choose the best one. Somehow I’ve been trained to think it’s my job. In truth, it’s not.
When I was in college my scholarships and grants didn’t cover all of my expenses. I started off living in a house with some friends of mine but after one semester I couldn’t continue to afford it. My solution was to become an RA. Live on campus for free! Get paid for it! I put on my most charming smile and went to the interview assured I would get the job.
I didn’t.
Not only did I not get the job, but they made a guy I deemed creepy and who acted inappropriately toward women an RA. Someone who used to leer at friends of mine and may or may not have groped a mutual friend of ours. What did I do? I went to the head honchos and I complained. How could they not have given me the job??? How could they have given the position to that other guy???
I sat in the woman’s office and I cried about how unfair it all was, how I was a way better candidate than Joe Schmoe over there. Somehow I thought if only she saw how much I cared and how much this other guy didn’t deserve it, they would magically give the job to me. My act of outrage accomplished nothing other than moistening my cheeks with tears.
What to do next? I thought about being a nanny but geez, I was a senior in college. I didn’t have the time or the patience for that. I scoured Craigslist and university job boards looking for something. I felt inspired to look up babysitting gigs. What ended up happening is I became a live-in babysitter for a 10 year old. My only responsibilities were to pick her up from school everyday (which was within walking distance from the house!) and watch her until her parents came home from work. In exchange I lived rent free in their basement apartment. And not some studio either. A big apartment with a living room, bedroom, and kitchen. What the Universe provided for me was way better than what I picked out for myself.
Living in the dorms I would have used the communal kitchen, requiring me to schlep all my pots and pans as well as the ingredients to and fro. I would have had to deal with drunken students and fire alarms and floor activities to promote bonding. As a live-in babysitter? I just had to watch a sweet 10 year old for a few hours a day. And the family let me use their car when I needed it.
I guess I’m saying the Universe already has the solution to all of our problems lined up. All the live-in babysitter scenarios we could ask for. All the everything. It’s not my responsibility to figure everything out. It’s my responsibility to allow the best things to come to me. To take inspired action. To do what moves me, knowing and trusting the Universe along the way. The solution to the problem? It already exists – I just need to be open to hearing it.
I dream of a world where we realize everything we experience on this Earth is for the purpose of expansion. Where we realize our purpose is to not to solve problems but to live our solutions. A world where we allow ourselves to be taken to the solution as opposed to trying to force our own will. A world where we know all we need we already have.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.