I do not think that word means what they think it means...

I listened to the radio for a bit this morning.  I had to turn it off.  If I hear one more news anchor refer to the problems with the ACA website and implementation as a "crisis," I will break my own eardrums.  I simply cannot listen to such hyperbole and, I'm sorry, STUPID anymore.  IT'S NOT A FUCKING CRISIS.

A war, a hurricane, a typhoon, an earthquake, a mass shooting, an outbreak (a REAL one), or a precarious nuclear reactor on the other side of the ocean...THOSE are worthy of the term "crisis."  This?  This is a hiccup.  This will be worked out (if SOMEONE will get out of the way).  This is NOT the end of the world. 

One day, this will all be a distant memory in the past.  Do you want to be remembered for your actions towards the good of the people?  Or, the good of the insurance companies?

Because, if you don't know that those hyping up the problems (and most likely causing them) are the insurance companies and their paid whores, then you don't deserve the brains in your head or the money in your wallet.  They had THREE YEARS to fix these problems with their junk plans, and they chose not to.  They could have chosen to improve those plans, and they chose not to.  They could have chosen to be partners in the healthcare industry, rather than the enemy...and they chose not to.

The REAL problem here?  That we don't have single payer.  Medicare for all, people.  Medicare for fucking ALL.

You want a crisis?  Check out the new voting laws in the states that were previously on a short leash.  Then you come and tell me that some glitches in a website and people being required to be responsible for their own healthcare are a crisis. 

I just hope you don't mind it I break my own eardrums when you do it.

The 2014 Promise

Dear House Republicans,

I write to you today with the knowledge that my husband, a federal employee, is sitting at home on furlough.  He will not get paid for this time, and we don't know when it will end.  We had only just started catching up on the bills that amassed through the years of the recession, when I could not get a job.  I went back to school and found a job as a paralegal.  We have a daughter in college and a son in high school.

With our two incomes, we realized we were the lucky ones.

There was no deciding whether or not to hold a bill for an extra month anymore.  There were no more meals where beans were the main ingredient.  When our children needed something, we could say "yes," not, "Maybe, if someone left one at the thrift store."

Not that there is a single thing wrong with shopping at a thrift store.  (New Community United Methodist Church Thrift Shop in Oakhurst, CA is my case in point.)  But, not when the answer is then no, if they don't have what your child needs...like a winter coat.

But, like I said, we knew we were now the lucky ones.  We both had jobs that, when put together, gave us an existence that didn't include the stress of trying to figure out how to feed four people on $50 a week.  Think it's so easy?  Then you've never tried it. Oh, and never mind gas for the car, electric, propane, water and insurance.  Never mind all of the extras (broken water heaters, flat tires, blown transmissions, dead a/c's, braces, etc.) that just pop up in life.  We had to figure it ALL out.  But, like I said, we knew that now, we were the lucky ones.

And now we are back to one salary.  Now, we are back to all that.  Now, we are...what?  The unlucky ones?

Nah.  You know why?

Because we will make it.  And, we won't make it because of you, but in spite of you.  We will make it, not because we are tough (although, don't discount that), but because we share.

That's right.  We are going to make it through this by sharing.  Maybe we don't have a lot right now, but we have more than most, and we have a little something to fall back on.  And we are going to make sure that we get to be someone else's cushion.  And, if we need it, someone else will be ours. 

You know why?

Because that is how a civilized society works.  Not by screwing each other out of savings, pensions, or salaries.  Not by holding the most vulnerable hostage (Just what IS the average salary of the federal employees that are being furloughed?   Oh, and what is yours?).  And not by being a big, fucking baby when you lose TWO ELECTIONS IN A ROW to a guy that you have some weird, obsessed, crazy fixation on.

You definitely don't kick the poor guy down in the data entry department because YOU are upset that said guy is kicking your ass in the polls and trying not to facepalm when he says your names. 

Dudes, you lost, it's law, and it's even fucking precedent. 

But, for some reason, that didn't stop you from deciding to take the rest of us down with you.  Oh, except, YOU aren't really going down the same way as us, are you?  No, we will be a bit broke, we will struggle to hold onto our possessions, and we will even worry about feeding our children.

But, we will get past this together.  We will recover from this mess you created.  And, we will vote in 2014, I promise.

The hole that you are going down?  I am pretty sure it is preceded by a flushing sound.

Buh-bye.

P.S.  The Republican I married still considers himself a Republican, by the way.  He just doesn't consider YOU one.

...One Giant Leap for Equality

Today, the United States Supreme Court said that the proponents of Proposition 8 that appealed Judge Walker's decision did not have standing.  In other words, they told the Prop 8 proponents:  this doesn't affect you.  You have no personal stake in the defense of this law.  To paraphrase:  general "ooginess" at the thought of gay marriage does not count.

The Court also struck down section three of the ironically named Defense of Marriage Act as unconstitutional.  No longer will marriages between same sex spouses be unrecognized by the federal government. 

I suppose it is the pessimist in me that had to first mourn the fact that the Prop 8 ruling was not farther reaching.  I will admit that I had hoped they would go all 14th Amendment on them and make this ruling apply to all the states.

I had to get over the fact that they did not overturn DOMA completely, but only one part of it, the section regarding federal recognition of gay marriage.  Arizona is still not required to recognize your California (or any other state) marriage.  No state has to recognize it.  But, that was not the question before the court, so they really couldn't.

I wanted to scream, "This isn't enough!"  I wanted to shake those robed wanna-be gods (who were already on my list after yesterday's Voting Rights Act ruling) and ask them why they couldn't have snuck a little bit more into the decision.

And then I step back and realize, we ARE a step closer-not farther-from full equality.  I hate that it is only a step, but it IS a huge step.  More than a step, it is a giant domino, ready to crash down on the next one, and the next.

Because, I am sure you all had the same experience I had if you were on Facebook just after 7 am this morning.  It exploded in celebration.  These times...they ARE a changing.  53% of people now support gay marriage.  Compare that with the 52% that voted for Prop 8 just four and a half years ago.  People just don't agree with equality and backslide into bigotry; they more FORWARD.  WE will not lose ground; we will only gain.  That is the benefit to using love and justice as your argument.

Prop 8's proponents are floundering, and they know it.  Their arguments have become desperate and shaky. And you know what?  They're not so popular anymore.  No one of any intelligence really believes that gay marriage hurts families or children.  To publicly promote that idea that being gay is wrong is becoming less and less acceptable, while being gay is becoming more and more just another normal way to be.

I personally love the idea of bigotry being forced into a closet, while love stands in the sunshine.

Because, to my mind, there was not other right way for the Supreme Court to decide, except for the side of equality.  Anything else would have been a lie.  Anything else would have been a mockery of our judicial system. 

Anything else would have been un-American.

This is an historic day, to put up there with Brown v Board of Education, Loving v Virginia, Lawrence v Texas, and Griswold v Connecticut.  All decisions that signaled positive turning points in our county.  All historic stepping stones to bigger and better things.  Including this one.

The United States v Windsor.  Hollingsworth v Perry.  We were here.  We all watched as we moved up one more giant step, closer than ever to that goal of complete equality.  We were witnesses to history today.

So, tonight, we celebrate.  Tomorrow...let's plan our next step.

The Witness

Honestly, I was not excited about going to Ash Wednesday service.  I was worried about how to gracefully decline the ashes without making it obvious.  Usually, we all go up to the front, just like on Communion Sunday, but since this service would be small, it would just be more obvious.  Not really a big deal, it's not like anyone gets upset, but I just didn't want to draw attention to it.

One might wonder why I even went then.  Fair question.  I sing in the choir.  The choir was singing tonight.  I could have just not gone, but that's not really my style.

The service is always very quiet, and very small.  Some music, some readings, some meditation, we get the ashes and we go home.  It's usually a nice service, but I will admit that I don't get much out of it.  I feel my atheism more strongly in it, which doesn't bother me, per se, but I wouldn't call it comfortable, either.

Tonight had about twice the people that are usually in attendance.  I didn't realize it until we stood up to sing, as I was in the front.  Pastor Helen commented twice, "We weren't expecting this many people!" although, clearly delighted by the numbers.

In the beginning of the service, Pastor Helen had set up stations.  I wish I could tell you more about them, but the options were:  stations or sit in silent meditation.  I sat.  I wanted to meditate, but I will admit to not being able to.  I am lucky to get my mind to shut up enough to be able to notice what is going on around me, never mind to work on what is in me. 

I am trying to set the scene here, trying to make it so you can picture it, so I can try to explain what happened.

Pastor Helen explained that we were going to do the ashes a little bit differently tonight.  Rather than all come to the front, with her administering them, she was going to take two bowls of ashes and have us administer them to each other.  It reminded me of the flame they pass at the end of each row on Christmas Eve, where the person next to you lights your candle, and you light the next person's candle.

I didn't object to the idea, only to the fact that, now, I was really going to be obvious.

I waited until the bowls were being passed.  I thought that people would be less likely to notice then.  I quietly went to the back of the church and sat there, watching.  I thought it was going to be an awkward several minutes. 

I was wrong.

As I watched from the back, I could see the couples holding hands, holding each other.  I could hear the people saying the words (a prayer?  I am not sure what to call it) to each other as they gave each other the ashes.  As the ashes made their way towards the back, I could see faces with smudged crosses.  I could hear the words more clearly, even though they would overlap as more than one person said them:

"Let these ashes on your head remind you that you are broken, but Christ will make you whole.  Let these ashes remind you that, one day we will all be ashes, but we love a God who has overcome even ashes."

The words by themselves would probably do nothing to me.  But, to hear them said so reverently, by people who believe that the call to love one another is Jesus' loudest message...it made them into beauty. It made them true.

I wished for a moment that I believed.  I wished that I could be in the thick of that, accepting the ashes, and believing that there was a deity that could (and would) make me whole.  Trust me...not the first time I have wished that I believed.  Life would be a LOT easier in this town if I did.

But, as I kept watching, I realized that if I had been up there, I would not have seen this beauty.  I would not have been so moved by the gentle hands applying ashes, the soft words of hope, and the music playing delicately in the background.  I would have been too much a part of it to be able to see it in its entirety...to see it whole and to feel its truth.

Sometimes, someone has to be the witness.  Someone has to be the observer, able to see the big picture in a way you cannot do when you are IN the picture.  When you are in the picture, you see your part; it is YOUR experience you remember.  It's hard to have your own experience and to notice your neighbor's, too.  That's not a bad thing; it just is.

Tonight, though...being the witness was an experience in and of itself.  Not everyone gets to see this kind of beauty.  The kind that inspires you to spread it around, to make people smile, to make what you put out into the world good.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day.  I hope you witness beauty, too.  If not, then let someone witness yours.  Be their big picture.

Go in peace.

A Sharing of Fellowship

As many of you already know, I am an atheist.  I also go to church.  While I may not believe in a deity (and what I believe is not strictly that, but that is for another day), I DO believe in the teachings of Jesus, for the most part (I disagree with his stance on divorce).  My church understands how I feel, but they welcome me with open arms and do not try to change me:  we get along great. I think we both recognize that we are essentially on the same side. (Mark 9:40)

Communion trips me up a bit, though.  I realize there are two ways to look at it.  One is that you are taking in the body and blood of Jesus and the other is that you are communing with Jesus through the breaking of bread.  Both don't fit for me, but I definitely like the second one better. Maybe because for me, it is about the message, not the man.

I suppose I could look at it as breaking bread with my fellow man, or as a symbol of Jesus' message, but it just doesn't fit for me.  I would just be trying to make this act fit into a box it doesn't really fit in, at least for me.  It would feel forced, at least at this point in my journey.

Wikipedia describes the origin of the word communion:

"The term communion is derived from Latin communio (sharing in common). The corresponding term in Greek is κοινωνία, which is often translated as 'fellowship'."

If I look at communion this way, as a sharing in common, or as a fellowship, I can understand it a bit better.  A group of people symbolically showing their shared fellowship. And one of the things I really like about our church, is that this shared fellowship is open to anyone:  open doors, open hearts, open minds.  It is an open fellowship.

But, taking communion still doesn't feel like me.  I feel as though I would be saying something that I am not saying.  I feel as though it would false, and that is not fair to me or to the other people for whom it does mean something.  I respect their beliefs as much as I respect my own.

My beliefs did not come to me easily.  I was going to a church I absolutely loved, as they poured their hearts and resources into their community, no strings attached.  They have made it a mission to help those who need help.  They don't spend a lot of money on how things look; they spend it on how things ARE.  

They have invited the homeless to spend the night, taking part of a program with other churches in the area to keep the homeless from freezing to death at night in the winter.  They have a weekly meal, open to anyone who needs/wants food. and they don't require anything of them (no sermon, no "saving").  They give clothes to the women's prison for the women just getting out, who might need some clothes to begin their new life.  

They believe in clean water and air.  They believe that everyone has worth.  They believe that our LGBT brother and sisters are valuable members of our society and are welcomed with open arms.  They believe that we have a responsibility to the world:  love it, and its inhabitants, with all our minds, hearts, and souls.  Who can argue with all that?

(Strangely, a lot of people can, but that is for another day, as well.)

So, to come to realize that I did not believe in God, at least in the traditional sense, was a hard thing to come to.  I knew this church was where I belonged, where I WANTED to belong.  It took a long time for me to say it out loud to anyone, but they surprised me with their acceptance and love.  It's not that I thought they would turn me out, but I did not dare to believe that they would just...accept and love.  (That might have more to do my my own insecurities and issues, but it is how I felt at the time.)

I have been invited to take communion, no matter my beliefs.  My beautiful pastor has made it clear that I am always welcome, without having to change anything about myself.  The invitation makes me feel both wonderful and a little guilty.  Wonderful, because it only reaffirms that THIS is the place I want to be, but guilty, because I know that, for me, I can't.  At least not today.

Today is World Communion Sunday.  So, I decided that, as part of my shared fellowship, I would make the bread.  As I write this, I have two loaves of challah bread rising in the oven.  Right now, this is how I will take my communion: through a sharing of my loaves.  

I hope they can taste the love in them.

"In the Essentials, Unity"

A girl at work once asked me what my church believed.  I told her my church believed in kindness, inclusivity, helping those who have less, social justice, and mercy.  I told her that, because when I think of my church, these are the things that pop into my head.  I think of the people who always hug me and ask me how I am doing. I think of people who have almost nothing, but yet still go out of their way to give something to others.  I think of the people who advocate for the human rights of others:  equality, drinking water, shelter, and food.  And, I think of the people there who have hearts so big, that sometimes it amazes me that they don't burst with them. 

When I think of my church, really, I think of two main themes:  kindness, justice, and walking humbly and do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

So, I thought I was answering her question.  But, her response was, "Don't they believe in God?"

That made me think.  Not about whether they actually believe in God (they do, for the record), but that she could not infer that from my answer.  Every single thing I named were things that Jesus called people to do, yet she could not see the God in them.  She still had to ask.

I have a hard time with all of this.  I personally do not believe in a sentient being that bears the name God.  I don't believe in the God in the Bible.  And, I cannot believe that God wrote the Bible.  But, I can believe that it was written by (or, at least, influenced by) people writing about their own God experience.  But, I cannot believe that even that the documentation of that experience remains untainted by humans and their inevitable failings, mostly greed (of money or power, most likely).  In fact, I believe much of the book is to be read through that filter.  

But, one of my favorite expressions is "Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater."  Just because I do not believe in all of it, does not mean that I can't believe any of it.  There is a freedom in that.  If I believe I can take what I want leave the rest, and ignore the parts that offend me, I can embrace the beauty and leave behind the difficult to explain (the whole "ineffable" argument just doesn't do it for me).  Sometimes, there is truth, even where there are not facts.

But, here's where I start having trouble reconciling things...I believe in what Jesus said.  I believe that we should do everything we can to help even the score in life.  I don't believe in hoarding money, and I believe success comes with an obligation to help others.  I don't believe that those who need help necessarily did anything wrong, and I believe that sometimes shit just happens (okay, Jesus may have not said that last part, but I bet he thought it).  I believe that kindness can be spread, that it is contagious, and that we all have an obligation to do our part to spread it.  But, I don't believe in God, and I don't believe that Jesus was God.

What does that make me?  Are you a Christian only because you believe?  And what do you have to believe?  Can you believe in the message without having to believe in the messenger?  Are you considered a follower if you follow his instructions, but not him personally?  And, who decides this?  Couldn't God just be the love we pour out everyday?  

I sit on a fence everyday.  Not a fence of my own beliefs, but a fence between two worlds.  I am an atheist who loves my church, my church that loves God.  My church that believes in kindness, inclusivity, helping those who have less, social justice, and mercy.  My church doesn't see this fence, this fence that separates us, and for that I love them.  And, to be honest, when I am with them, I don't see the fence either.

Why does the rest of the world?  If kindness, inclusivity, helping those who have less, social justice, and mercy are not enough to unite us...then what is?

What I Want My President to Understand

Mitt Romney's pick of Paul Ryan for the VP slot this last week has me shaking my head with disbelief.  It has me honestly wondering if the Republicans (or Romney himself) are purposely throwing this election to President Obama.  Because, I look at Mitt Romney, and all I can think is, "That man doesn't have a clue what it takes to do this."  And now, I look at Paul Ryan, and I think, "heartless douchebag."

I simply cannot understand this country's obsession with wealth.  I understand wanting to be comfortable, and I understand wanting to not have to ever worry about money, but the amount of wealth that is concentrated in the hands of just a few has gone way past crazy.  I saw a meme that pointed out that we have interventions for people who hoard things like cats and knickknacks, but those only affect the person living in the house and maybe the immediate neighbors and close family.  A person who hoards hundreds of millions of dollars, even billions, and does not put them back out into society, is doing more harm than the cat lady ever could...and we hold them up as something to aspire to.

The person we elect as President should understand that.  

Other things the President should understand:

Access to healthcare should be a right.  And the very first reason I can think of for that is not even altruistic:  sick people make other people sick.  Sick people cost companies money.  And sick people cost more when they can't afford to treat their illness when it is still minor.

That is not even accounting for what it does to a person to live in constant fear that they will get sick and not be able to go to the doctor.  Or, when they have to watch a spouse die because they cannot afford the medicine.  Or, a child.  The President should understand this.

The President should understand that access to education is a necessary part of a democratic society.  Education is supposed to be the great equalizer, bringing people of all socio-economic backgrounds to a more level playing field.  Except, it doesn't really.  If you live in a wealthy neighborhood, chances are, you have a nicer school and more opportunities at that school, than the kid who lives in public housing.  And college?  It is becoming a privilege of the wealthy, or of those willing to put themselves into debt to get there. Which begs the question:  how are we ever going to have more teachers if they can't afford the schooling or the debt?

The President should understand that companies who send jobs overseas should be penalized, not rewarded.  The penalty should offset whatever they save in paying what would be a slave wage here, over there (wherever "there" is). I have heard the argument that the people who work in these low paying jobs make more than they ever otherwise would.  Does that make it right?  Why not just pay them what they are worth?  How about just keeping those jobs here?  Then you might have people who could actually afford those things you are selling.

I don't have an argument with helping our neighbors across the ocean.  I have a problem with exploiting them and getting away with it because they are so desperate that they won't complain.  They are so desperate that they are HAPPY to have these jobs. And, the "job creator" makes millions.  They don't employ those people to help them; they do it because they know they can make more money off them.  Our President should be standing up for us AND for the workers across the sea.  We are both getting screwed.

Our President should also understand that we are not a bunch of single people living alongside each other, but a country of communities, people living together, depending on each other whether we know it or not (whether we want to believe it or not).  No matter what you want to believe, none of us does this alone.  We are intertwined and that won't change.  

I hear some of the very wealthiest Americans shouting how they did this all themselves, and how no one helped them. And, then I heard people lose their minds when President Obama dared to suggest that, even if they didn't want to admit it or maybe didn't see it, they had help.  

They had teachers who taught them.  Police officers who protected them.  Libraries that informed them.  And, the roads they drove on. I could go on and on.  The farmers that fed them, the water they drank (even what happened to the food and water AFTER they ate and drank it), and even the quality of the air that they breathed.

Sure, private industry COULD do this, but the very point of combining forces is to make it available to everyone.  Education, healthcare, safety, books, food, water...do we want these to become the exclusive rights of the rich?  Do we really want a society where the privileged live up on a hill, with all the unnecessary items to live, while the rest of us scramble at the bottom, trying to catch their leftovers?

Which brings me to the most important thing that our President should understand:

Trickle down doesn't work.  The rules need to make sure that we do not coddle the uber-wealthy.  They became rich BECAUSE of this country, not in spite of it, and they need to pass it on to the next guy.  I keep hearing about how great the 50's were...yeah, they had high taxes on the wealthy.  The government used it to invest in this country, and it WORKED.

I read an analogy about "equality of outcome" and "equality of opportunity" once.  It compared equality of outcome to cutting up a pie, and everyone got an equal piece, no matter what.  Equality of income was described as putting the pie out and everyone had an equal opportunity to try and grab a piece.  I really don't like this analogy.  It implies that we need to try and grab something before someone else does, as though there really isn't enough for all of us and if you don't mow someone down to get your piece, you are SOL.  I don't believe that.

I believe in equality of opportunity, but I believe that we should all have the same ingredients, like in a recipe or a garden.  We should all have access to those ingredients, but WE decide how hard we work at making them come together.  This shouldn't be a contest; it should be a union.  What if we all rooted for each other? Would it take away from our success if our neighbor did well?  Would it take away from his, if we did?  I get the argument of "well, there's always that guy who does nothing and we just support him."  Well, we have raised our kids for thirty years now to believe in the "Mine!" theory, is it any wonder that they are practicing it?  What if we started teaching our kids that they all need to stand up for each other, to support each other, root each other on?  What if we taught them, that we only win if we ALL win?

That's what I want my President to understand.