Keeping the Sacred Flame

It’s hard to be honest with myself about things.  Among other things, it’s like shooting at a moving target.  On one side there’s overconfidence, on the other is a lack of confidence.  Somewhere in the middle is accuracy.

It’s easy to lie to myself.  The biggest one I’ve given myself in the past is trying to make myself believe I was happy with my jobs when I wasn’t.  It’s hard to admit that you’re miserable sometimes.  It’s also hard to admit that you’re not the person you want to be when you’re doing things that don’t make you happy.

These days my biggest self-lie is about how good my writing is.  It’s hard for me to view it honestly, assuming anyone can ever see themselves honestly.  I hope and fear success, and I fear failure.  And I tie both success and failure to my self image when I spend so much time with them.

Questions:

What do I lie to myself about?  My abilities as a writer and as a mother.  I fear failure in both, but I sometimes talk to myself as though I’ve already failed.  Other times I exaggerate my abilities.  I only hope that I manage to find a happy medium in the middle.

What threat does honesty hold in my life?  It depends where the lies are.  If I’m truly a failure at the things that matter to me, being honest could destroy my self-image.  That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be necessary, because it’s better to know the truth and work from there than to spin dreams from lies.  But I’d still hate it.

If I take away the trappings of job and other people, do I know who I am?  I think I do, although it’s hard to put it into words.  I hope that I am who I see myself as, a caring person that does her best for those around her.  It would be embarrassing and heartbreaking to find out that I’m not who I think I am.  But even by myself, without anyone to speak to, I know who I am.  And what’s more, I like what I see.  Usually.

It’s easy to talk about being honest.  It’s much more difficult to think about what that means.

Honesty isn’t just speaking the truth.  It’s about thinking truth to yourself, and making it the entire truth.  Denying pieces of ourselves is a lie as much as claiming something that isn’t there.  We are all of what we are, and we need to be honest with ourselves about that.

What is it to be honest with yourself?  Part of it is refusing to allow yourself to deny things that are uncomfortable.  We all have things we do and pieces of ourselves that we are that we don’t like to admit to.  When we hide them, though, we refuse ourselves the chance to grow and learn from those pieces of ourselves.  And when we deny completely a piece of ourselves, we cripple ourselves by binding that denied piece to us.

There are many ways that we lie to ourselves, and there are many ways we hurt ourselves with our lies.  One of the biggest ways we do this is by clinging to something that used to fit us and denying that the word and everything associated with it no longer fits us.  We cling to our past and deny everything about it that no longer works.  We cling to marriages, old religions, families that hurt us, jobs, anything that we’ve incorporated as part of our identity and fear to lose.

We need to be willing to step back from our lives and examine them honestly.  We need to look at ourselves and see what it is we cling to and what it is we deny.  And we need to ask ourselves where we’re lying and why.

Questions:
What things do you lie to yourself about?  Why?
What threat does honesty hold in your life?
If you take away the trappings of jobs and other people, do you know who you are?

I’m always surprised at how much adults cry about fairness. After all, it’s not like fair worked when we were five. So why would it work when we’re forty-five?

Sure, it would be nice if life were fair. There are all kinds of things that would be nice that don’t seem to exist, though.

Fair implies that people deserve what they get, and I think it’s definitely dangerous belief that people deserve everything they get. That goes back to blaming the victim for what happens to them. Sometimes people get what they deserve. Often they don’t. Lottery winnings don’t go to the most moral or most virtuous player. They go to whoever gets lucky enough to win. The most evil criminals aren’t the ones who get caught. Just the unlucky and the ones who don’t plan.

We can create a more just world, if we work together. We can try to both be just in our lives and work to increase justice. That means we need to be aware of what the laws are and whether or not we need to work to change them. We need to be just in the small things in our lives. Just because we can take advantage of someone doesn’t mean we should. Just because something is legal doesn’t mean it’s right. And just because it’s ILlegal doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it anyway. Civil disobedience shaped our country. Sometimes laws must be fought against. Sometimes they need to be fought for. What’s important is that we think about it and do what is just, and create the world we want to live in.

Questions:
How do I create justice? I really don’t know. I try to follow the rules, but that’s not always justice. And I try to be fair, but I don’t know if that’s justice either. I do try to speak out when I think something is wrong, but I do it very carefully and I don’t poke very far out of my hole. So I should do more. I don’t think I create injustice in my life, but I’m not sure I do much to push towards justice either.

What does a just society mean to me? Victims are not blamed for what happens. People treat people as they’ve earned to be treated. Transgressions are punished, but more, they’re worked against from the beginning. In a just society, there is less crime not because punishments are harsh but because there is less reason. In a just society, people have and recognize other options than crime to get ahead. I feel we live in a semi-just society. There are good points, but there are also bad ones. There’s a long way to go.

What matters more, justice or mercy? Mercy without justice is hollow, justice without mercy is harsh. They go together. But I think justice is more necessary, even if it is harsh.

Could we ever live in a truly fair world? No, because there are always going to be differences of ability, desire, want, and starting point. That said, I think it’s a worthy goal. Some of the most important goals we can have are impossible to achieve. But that’s okay, because it’s in striving and trying we change the world for the better.

What is justice? What do we expect when we cry out for it, and to whom do we cry?

Justice is a complicated concept that we learn first as fair. Even as small children, we want what we perceive as fair and complain bitterly when we don’t get it. As we get older, our concept of what we mean by justice becomes more complicated. We want what is fair, but our view of what is fair becomes messier. Is it fair to punish someone that truly cannot know what they are doing? Is it fair to punish with a fine that cripples the poor and doesn’t touch the rich? What is fair? What is just? And who will give it to us?

We are the Eyes and Hands of the Divine. When we cry out to the Divine for justice, we are crying out to each other and to ourselves. We are crying for Mommy or Daddy to come fix it as well, but when we are adults there is no magical Mommy or Daddy to come and fix the unfairness in our lives. We as a community must do it ourselves.

This is not a call for vigilantism. We are a community, and we seek justice as a community. And while that does mean that we can’t catch every transgressor and we can’t make a completely just society, it does mean that we need to work towards it.

There is no cosmic justice waiting for us elsewhere. If we want a just society, we need to create it ourselves.

Questions:
How do you create justice in your life? How do you work against it?
What does a just society mean to you? Do you think you live in one already?
What matters more, justice or mercy? Do you think it’s possible to ever live in a “fair” world?

It’s hard not to blame the victim sometimes. I know I do it. It can be so hard to believe that what’s going on isn’t someone’s fault, so we just decide that it is because it’s easier than dealing with reality.

Usually we come up with language that tries to make it look like we’re being sympathetic, though. Stuff like “if you prayed, God would fix it” is blaming the victim. It’s saying that they’re not praying enough, or worse, that God doesn’t like them for some reason. “It’s a lesson you must have needed to learn” or “it’s bad karma you had to work out” is similarly blaming the person for what happened. Both of those imply that there was a “good reason” for it to happen and that it’s the right thing to have happened.

But doing this is horribly, horribly wrong. When we blame the victim we’re saying we can’t help reality. That “you should have known better” or “you should have been more careful.” It’s a refusal of responsiblity and a refusal to admit that we are interconnected.

When we say it’s something we can’t do anything about, we’re saying that the Universe can’t be improved. When we blame the victim, we’re saying the same thing. We can’t improve the Universe because it’s the victim’s problem.

It’s easy to do. But that doesn’t mean it’s not a lie.

Questions:
Where do I blame victims in my life? I try pretty hard to avoid it, but I don’t always succeed. My problem is usually looking at parents and thinking that “they” should have done better than they’re doing. And I do this knowing full well how hard parenting is. I blame myself for being a doormat in the middle of the night when my son wakes up screaming and I nurse him instead of encouraging him to sleep through the night. It’s hard not to, especially when I do know it’s going to make me cranky and that I could make him sleep.

What do I get out of blaming the victim? Control, in a way. If I “know better” but don’t actually try to do something, I can hold out the belief that I can fix it. I don’t need to deal with the possibility of failure if I don’t actually do it. And I don’t have to deal with the fact that I’m talking about a separate person. I can’t control my son. It’s entirely possible nothing I do will get me the result I want. (or it will be something I’d never think of). He’s not a part of me. He’s himself. When I blame me for what’s happening, I deny that individuality to a point.

What needs to change so I stop blaming victims? It’s an ongoing process, I think. There’s not a once-and-done way of getting done with that attitude. Instead, you do it one piece at a time in each aspect. I’ve pretty much stopped blaming people for being “dumb” for not thinking the same way I do, so there’s progress. And I’m sure there’s something I do that I don’t even think of. It’s a constant process of self-improvement.

But it needs to be done.

Blaming the victim. It’s something we do commonly, either directly or indirectly. If only you weren’t there, if only you hadn’t done that, if only you’d been a better person/eaten your vegetables/been nice to your parents. If only, if only, then it would be different.

This does two things, and both of them are dangerous. It excludes the victim from needing care, because after all it was his/her own fault. It’s not our place to get involved so much when someone brings bad things down on themselves. It’s not necessary. We even do this to ourselves, blaming our actions for our misfortunes. And this leads into the second problem.

When we blame the victim, we’re taking control of what happened. It’s because of X that Y happened, so if we don’t do X we should be fine. This can be anywhere from a rational reaction (don’t go walking through dangerous areas alone at night) to superstition (didn’t pray a certain prayer three times before doing X). We’re saying that the victim did something risky and this lead directly to the victimization, and therefore we are safe from that particular worry because we don’t do X. (or won’t do it again).

The problem is, this is a false sense of control. There’s no real control there. All you end up with is a victim that stays a victim as opposed to a person that has been victimized (and there is a difference. The first is a state of being, the other is a short-term description of a situation), and that leads to fuzzy thinking and a lack of compassion.

It can also, terrifyingly, be a way to escape control. If it’s “your” fault that I did something, it’s not “my” fault anymore. This is a common way people put blame on their own victims for what is done to them. It is a classic of abusers.

It’s easy to blame the victim. It’s a lot easier than seeking real justice, and even justice is easier than seeking to change the system so the problem stops happening. But accepting victimhood, for yourself or someone else, goes against the Divine. It declares there is no improvement to be sought. It’s time to stop blaming victims.

Questions:
Where do you blame victims in your life? Is it yourself you blame, or another?
What do you get out of blaming the victim? What are you afraid to see if you don’t?
What needs to change so you can stop blaming people for what happens to them? What are you afraid will happen if you stop?

I get irritated when I hear that there is “enough” for “everyone” of anything that there clearly isn’t. Like money. Sure, there can be enough for everyone, but that only works when the distribution system is working and no one’s hoarding, and we all know how well that goes.

Denying reality is not a virtue. It is a good thing to have an idea how the world should be and to work towards that ideal. It is not a good thing to take that idealism and expect the world to already line up to it. When we try to force the world to match our preconceptions, we hurt ourselves and those around us.

The world is not a bounty waiting to be picked. The Divine loves us, yes, but that doesn’t mean that our path is smooth and everything is built for our advantage. The world is rough and dangerous, and there’s no loving spirit watching over just us trying to fix our life and ignoring everyone else. We have to live with each other with everything that means, the good and the bad.

I try very hard to live without being grasping, without clinging to things that I shouldn’t. There is scarcity, and there are things I want and don’t have. But I try to be reasonable in the things that I want that are limited, and I try to share what I can as well.

Questions:
What role does scarcity play in my life? The biggest places I notice it is money, because of course there’s never enough, and in trying to get published. Because while there’s no real limit to the number of books that can be published, they only publish the best, and that’s a small number of the whole. And there isn’t *enough to go around*. There’s only the best/lucky and everyone else. No amount of “enough for everybody” thinking is going to change that.

What do I have that I don’t need, and is it worth it? Well, I don’t need the size house that I have, although I expect I will need it when I have another child. (or maybe when they grow up a little bigger). I certainly don’t need all the chocolate I eat, or the fancyish tea that I drink. On the other time, I don’t have much in the way of luxuries in the house. I don’t drink alcohol, which gets expensive quickly. We don’t eat out often. We buy toys for our son and computer games for ourselves, but we don’t spend rediculous amounts. We could be better about it, of course, but I don’t think we’re crazy about it either.

Do I find it hard to share what I have? Yes, because I doubt the worth of it. What I have, my gifts, lie in writing. But writing is an inherently solitary and self-doubting occupation, so I wonder if my writing is any good and I want to hide it away. But when I do share, I know how I’m doing and whether or not it’s any good. When I refuse to share, I refuse to live.

The Universe is infinite, as we understand it. However, the Earth is not, and it is on the Earth where we live. Our lives are ruled by scarcity and choosing between what we want and need. We have always been defined, as a species, by what we feel we need and do not have.

We live in a time of otherwise unknown plenty. We can afford, if we try, to feed everyone. To clothe everyone. To give out fresh water. The problem is still one of scarcity, though, as we don’t have or want to invest in the distribution needed to get that food and water to the people that need it. There are costs to everything, and denying the cost or claiming it shouldn’t matter denies the problem completely. Some things are worth the cost, but that doesn’t mean the cost isn’t there.

In our personal lives, we have scarcity. There is only so much time, so much money. We can only do so much, see so much, have so much. And we have to make choices with that scarcity. We can choose to spend that time and money selfishly, or we can share and improve life for ourselves and those around us. We can’t have everything for ourselves and share. We have to choose. But when people share, the world gets better for everyone.

There will never be enough for everyone to have everything they want. But we can choose how to use what we have, and that’s a very powerful choice.

Questions:
What role does scarcity play in your life? Is it meaningful?
What do you have that you don’t need? Is it worth it?
Do you find it hard to share what you have? Why? What can you gain from sharing?

I give of myself in sacrifice to the Divine. In return, I get myself.

What I give is in large part this blog. I give in thinking and in sharing my thoughts. I feel like I need to do more, but I’m not sure when and I’m really not sure how. A lot of volunteer things happen on the weekends. Call me petty, but I want to sleep in. (I also don’t want to donate money AND time. One or the other, thank you. Both? No.)

I do feel like I’ve gained more in this sacrifice than I’ve given. I’m happier and mentally healthier with being open to the Divine. But some of the steps I’ve taken are ones I would not have taken for myself. I would never have started sharing my ideas of FlameKeeping if I hadn’t been bullied/requested to do so. But they’ve been good for me, and I hope they’ve been good for the Divine as well.

Questions:
What do I give in sacrifice and why? I give of my time and my thought. I give it because it’s what I have and what I value. It’s true, giving of my thoughts doesn’t cost me anything. If anything, I grow in return. But it is still a gift, because no one else has the right combination of skills to do this work. And I believe it is necessary, or at least valuable work.

What have I gained from the sacrifice? Clarity of mind and purpose. I feel more confident about my spirituality and more stable in myself with what I do. And I’m happier. Is it worth what I do? Yes. This doesn’t mean it’s all happy joy joy. I’ve had hard times with this, and I’ve felt used and overworked and miserable at times. But all in all, it’s very worth it. I can give and give freely, and am enriched by giving the gift.

What do I refuse to sacrifice? My family. I would love to have a degree in theology, but I’m not going to ask my family to incur the debt for that, especially since it won’t ever bring money back in. If I have the money and I can do it without hurting my family, I’d like to. And I’m sure I’d be able to articulate my thoughts better and do a better job at my work if I could get some help with that. But I’m not going to risk my family or take money away from their needs, and I don’t really care what it costs.

What is sacrifice? It’s giving something up to another. We sacrifice regularly in our lives, giving to our family and friends, even our workplace. What does it mean to sacrifice for our religion and the Divine, however, and what do we give?

The Divine does not need things. It is everything that is. Giving it once piece of itself back to itself just moves bits around. There is only one thing we have to give, and that is ourselves. We are the sacrifice.

I don’t mean we should go flinging ourselves on altars. This is a sacrifice that involves living, not dying. We need to give ourselves in life to the Divine, knowing that we’re giving ourselves to a greater version of ourselves. This isn’t a stepping aside, but a stepping up. Not into leadership necessarily, but simply into service. Into doing.

What this sacrifice will entail is different for each person. As we are all different, we are all called to different work to suit our strengths or shore up our weaknesses. We are called to beautify and improve the Universe, of which we are part. This isn’t a sacrifice that destroys ourselves to improve others. It is a sacrifice of our time and our effort that improves ourselves along with the Universe around us.

Sacrifice is scary. We are asked to give of ourselves for an unknown reward, if any, and sometimes for unknown reasons. It’s reasonable to not want to give oneself into sacrifice, especially when we’re not sure what we’re being asked or what it will cost. But when we refuse to give, we also refuse to live. Giving ourselves in sacrifice is a loss, but it’s also a chance at incredible gain. We just have to let go and give.

Questions:
What do you give in sacrifice? Why?
What have you gained from sacrifice? Do you think it’s worth it?
What do you refuse to sacrifice? Do you think this is reasonable? What do you think that costs you?