Avatar and Ice
Not long ago I created my avatar, The Mystic Citizen. She looks empowered, like a superhero and carries a staff of light at all times while her chest bares an illuminated heart. When I first created this avatar I thought I chose it because "I just liked it." But in describing her to you now, I realize it's her essence that is appealing to me. She is strong, beautiful, direct (has awesome posture) and carries light and heart. She is me. And she reflects the essence of me as a civically responsible citizen of a country I have always loved despite its flaws. Or maybe, because of them. Like those family members you love despite the way they talk too much, always forget your birthday, throw wrapping paper balls all over the house or need to borrow a few bucks from time to time.
I've written articles and books on politics from my shade of spirituality. But writing is one-way. I yearn for conversation—for someone to see it differently, or to agree with me and confirm the magnificence of my thinking.
My shade of spirituality is grounded in love and kindness. That's where I come from, who I am. When I'm not ‘being’ love and kindness, I feel wrong—outside myself. This led me to the Heartlight Way: I am the lantern, illuminating what I or others need to see. Not fixing. Showing. I work on that difference every day.
The civically responsible side of me, the law-abiding citizen and the feminist in me is strongly compelled to enter this realm through the lens of spirituality, love and kindness. It feels almost like an attempt to mix oil and vinegar. They keep separating and I have to shake it up now and again to get them working together.
Here is an example of what I'm talking about. We all know what the headlines are right now. The killing of a young woman by someone who didn't seem to care to do the right thing. That's how I saw it anyway. There were protests and rallies planned yesterday and I didn't go because I didn't feel well enough, but I wanted to attend with my daughter. Her sign would have said "Say her name" and mine would have said "Renee Nicole Good." It's tragic, devastating, and it is bringing up more fear—as if we didn't have enough already. The feeling is that no one is safe. We live in lawlessness. We can rage against the machine in anger and defiance. We can retreat and hope ICE never comes to our neighborhood. We can join community in prayer or vigil. Many options, most chosen from the fear that escalates every other day. It can lead to a feeling of helplessness, a why-bother feeling. Fortunately, I don't see that happening right now. There are protests everywhere. And it's triggering the return to clickbait titles on news "programs." And all the while, I know I try to stay grounded in my spirituality, specifically love and kindness. I try to write about it, film it, say it, be it. And it's hard when the anger rises in my chest like a coal being lit. Hard and hot when I'm usually soft and warm. When I'm in rage, I feel sick and make decisions that remind me of getting drunk in my youth—regrets, right? When I'm in rage, I have a hard time letting it go. It simmers like that heavy chunk of coal refusing to burn out.
What do you feel like when anger is your friend?
I like my soft warm self. It feels for me like calm. Imagine sitting in a comfy chair looking out over a crystal clear blue lake. The only sounds are the breeze and birds. The light is filtered through the trees. The smell can only be described as crisp and earthy. It's heaven with a cup of coffee.
Can I, as a soul-centered human spreading love and kindness, also be the civic citizen who takes responsible action to right a wrong? Can I do both? Can you? Can we—without compartmentalizing?
Linda L McDonald - TulaLight.com - www.youtube.com/@tulalight
