Growing up is like being in that big machine that blows air so that all the little bingo balls are flying around like crazy. One minute you are flailing, the next, your number is being called. Then your number is visible, and being called out, in front of everyone, and then you are being called into your boss’s office because it seems you are doing it wrong. I digress.
If you have traveled a road that has led to a place of reverence, and seriousness, and maturity, and mindfulness, and all these lovely things, that is great. If your journey has led you to a place of irreverence, and indomitability, and all that is juvenile and you have a spark of knowing in your eye, that is excellent. If you are back and forth, back and forth, well, I feel you.
My job, is to be me. My job, is to make sure you don’t try to eat, step on, scratch, or otherwise harm me, my family, my dog, or my friends. Boundaries. I know me. You know you. There is a we, and that gets tricky sometimes. “WE,” makes up our society. “We,” makes up–sometimes, a bunch of henpecking jerks. There is leadership, and there is decisive leadership, and then–there is being controlling. It’s a fine gradient.
Right now, we are telling people what to do, because we’re scared, and we’re feargasming all over the place. It’s maddening. I don’t get to tell you how to do what you are doing, how to be who you are, or how to demonstrate or communicate it. I can tell you what I think of it. That is my opinion, and quite frankly, my reaction.
You are crawling through the damp earth of your own life. I do not get to have a say. Every time I intervene, I am distracting you from where it is, that you are going. You are going somewhere, and exactly how you need to, in order to get there. This is the namaste stuff–the tired, hopeful earthworm in me sees and honors the tired, hopeful earthworm in you.
Why? Why am I writing this? Safety pins and pink hats. I hear all the sides. I understand, from a place of grave stillness, and listening, all the points and counterpoints. But here, just for consideration: Stop telling people how to do the work. Let people falter, let people win. Let people be. Make Room. Make Space. Share. Stop trying to control. The house is already on fire. More constriction and shaming will only cleave allies.
If a person wants to wear a pin, and that is their gateway drug to activism, support them to WEAR THAT PIN. Pin wearers, put your toes in the water, find your passion. Pink hats? DO IT! Get in here. We need ALL of you. In here now! With reverence, or irreverence. With charisma, or silent observation. With experience or not. For novelty, or curiosity, or whatever the -osity, there is so much work. There are so many ways. There is so much room. Here, or there. Near, or far. Don’t rain on anyone’s parade, because really, in the end, no one knows it all.