Mariposa Rhythms -- Creative Dissent

Someone once told me that when she was living in Israel, she used to go up on the roof of her home and watch nearby explosions as though they were fireworks. Last night, I was on a bridge in San Francisco, watching fireworks, unable to stop the association with the explosions of shock and awe – how many such displays will the new year bring? As people embrace and wish one another a happy new year, I wonder, what do we mean by “happy”? Who is included in this wish, this vision, and how are we going to bring that happiness about?

I was taught to approach new year’s as a powerful threshold moment in which to take some time to reflect on the past and make plans for an improved future. A moment to push on the boundaries of what seems possible, to dream alternatives and to commit to those dreams. My dream is one in which the existence of people that is built on others’ subordination and exploitation is so unjustifiable that it becomes undoable, perhaps even unthinkable. This is my vision of a happy new year. How to bring that about?

Today I have just a little something to contribute, an attempt to formulate a new beginning, a new origin story. I offer this because our origin narratives are powerful forces in shaping our understandings of our proper places in the world, of who we are allied with, who we are accountable to and responsible for. Many of the origin narratives I know claim to be universal truths that explain where we all come from. And yet many are left outside of the “all” of those stories, condemned to a state of nonbeing or sub-human status vis-à-vis these truths. So how might we imagine a common origin that is inclusive of all of humanity yet does not necessitate a homogenous religion, science, physiology or culture? A universal “we” that allows for infinite particulars? Here is one idea, a story for a happy new year:

Descendents of Exile

Before, during, after and around the human there is exile. For some the exile from God’s or Gods’ imagination/s. For some the exile of gasses into the universe. Exiles from Eden. Exiles from Africa. Exiles from all the places humans linger in exile, exiled many times over, whether by choice or by force. For some persons, the home of death is the home of birth. For all people, home is transient, home is exile. Do not despair! This is not a story of being cursed to homelessness. Do not gloat! This is not a story that justifies sending others into another exile. This is a story of universal kinship. Embrace your kin who, like you, are descendents of exile; who, like you, share the name of exile, even when we do not share your faith, your science, your anatomy, your history, your customs or your color. Our bodies, minds and souls will live and rest more soundly when we embrace our existence as exiles, when we live knowing that we do not have rights to particular places, that land and resources must be shared -- rather than seized through purchase, ancestral claims or occupation. When we make space rather than take space.

Love to you, to all.

# posted by Cecilia @ 2:23 PM 0 comments