more from the fifth

I have a day sort-of off, and so I slept past 5:00 am. And my mind is working overtime. 




I had a chance to talk to the person I named myself for. She is an inspiration.   There is a family of activists, most have gone to prison - mostly for protesting war.  I was wondering what made them so fearless.  Then I started thinking about my moments of fearfulness. When I am controlled by my fear, I am usually alone, and all of my "I'm not good enough....I don't deserve" triggers are flaming in my soul.

Maybe "I'm not good enough" is partly "I'm not worthy" and partly "I am bad."
I'll have to think about this...

In this activist family, though, they live near each other.  The cousins are like siblings.  If someone goes to prison, the rest of the family rallies and absorbs the kids.  They are safe and nurtured, and home.

One of them was recently arrested and sentenced to a year in prison, although she was not participating in the protest, she was simply photographing the others. I think she was recognized.  And the judge said she can't keep thumbing her nose at the law.

What I've been thinking is - we live in an area where the Underground Railroad was strong.  There are many stations here. There are occasional tours, books. People are proud.  It's easy to sit here and now and be proud to own something that was used for good.  But why can't we take the step back and realize that those who were involved were considered bad. They were thumbing their nose at the laws that made it legal to own human beings.

If there were an Underground Railroad today, who would have the courage to participate?  Only those who are out there, dedicating their lives to peace, truly sacrificing a year of their life with their children for the sake of someone else's children.

In thinking about myself and the activism I have done, which never involved arrest - one time I was very close to being arrested...I had made arrangements for my children and was ready to go on the line when the cops backed off.  And my adrenaline was rushing.  I felt alive. But mostly I am in the background, a support person. I am afraid. I am not good enough.  There is something in me that is Catholic girl "bad."

So from this family to another man I know...my mind has been whirring this morning.  I have a neighbor with a farm.  He has an old horse he has been protecting for years.  And he has a couple roosters that needed a home.  I applaud that rescuer in him, that urge to protect.  His critters all stay in the barn, usually with the door open.  If I have the story straight, two of the roosters were fighting. Two were up on the roosts, the one that was losing the fight, the third one, was on the ground. A fox most likely got the one of the ground.  All my neighbor found were some feathers.

Now he is on a vendetta, shooting foxes. And it is breaking my heart. 

You don't leave the doors open and become upset if a hungry animals takes advantage of your invitation.  It's like leaving money on your "property" on the side of the road and shooting anyone who picks it up.

I hate this ownership idea we have.  We truly can't own property.  First, because if we don't pay taxes- the government takes it from us.  If it was truly ours, no one could take it for any reason.  But second, we live short lives.  The Earth is long lived.  We simply steward for a short while.  We have forgotten. We have forgotten to consider the next generation, much less the seventh generation - because we own whatever we can buy, and we can do whatever we want...

This neighbor...there was a dead tree near one of his ponds.  One day I saw a green heron there. I was excited - it was the first time I ever saw one.  I talked to a birder-friend. He told me that this was a perfect place for them - a snag tree near a pond.  Soon after, days after, the neighbor cut down the tree.  Because it was dead. He didn't like it.  It didn't look good.  He had no idea he destroyed habitat, because he only recognizes the creatures he owns.

And damn it, chickens are from Africa.  They are here because we have enslaved them.  They don't belong here, in this habitat, which is why they are such easy prey.  Foxes live here.  This is their home.  It has been theirs long before it was ours - we Euro-American invaders. 

He is trapped in his fifth chakra - trying to control everything. Just like the rest of us...

But we can't do this anymore if we want to survive as a species.  We have to climb into our sixth, and love and trust and protect others.

And that's where I am today. I need to clean my house.  I will probably be on baby-duty as we work on festival clean up. I hope you will be home soon.  I can't wait to hear about your latest adventures, and to be reasured that your son is in a healing place.

Love and hugs from Clare