Melting Pot, or Kettle of Stew?

Racist attitudes are not about skin color. If that is the dividing trait, why are pink skinned people lying out in the sun trying to get brown? No, the racist believes that whatever trait he has, regardless of appearance is the right trait, or the superior trait, or the more desirable trait. This conceit is professed to be pride in the whole group with the same trait but in truth that’s camouflage for inflating his own ego.

Those of African descent often iron their hair down to look less different. They try to blend in with that group they’ve been cast out of or which they fear, or loathe. They may be beyond hope of acceptance and just wish to avoid harm.

The religious racist’s claims (This “race” is a specific group which agree on a doctrine) indicate the same script. My bible is not “a bible” it’s the Bible, the only true bible. The true God chose me as his special child and those who follow something different are deceived. Sadly, they have no hope for they chose a false god. I can confirm all this in the Bible, of course. Doctrine is skin color in a different form, but the goal of segregation is the same — I’m better than you. I am wise and you chose poorly. Being wrong is a sure sign of weakness.

Those who follow an inner calling, from an inner lord are doing their best to flee from criticism and judgment of any diversity. They endeavor to see God in every form. On the path they have chosen, and must continue to choose every waking moment, it has been revealed that peace will only be found and enjoyed through unity; that only easing the suffering of others could end their suffering. Therefore, they choose not to fight against racism but to emanate love regardless of the nature and intensity of the incoming fire. If the illusion of separation is starved of attention, it has nothing to feed on. The difference in those two attitudes is like the difference between war and dancing.

You may apply this recipe to political racism, national racism, wealth racism… you name it. Like skin tone racism, the outward appearance is touted to be the rationale for the segregation, but it’s consistently, “I’m right. You’re wrong. I’m better than all who are not like me.”

Blame is pointless, in fact, destructive. Standing in a burning house and demanding to know who’s responsible for it, instead of putting the fire out is not wise. Most often, the accuser is holding a burnt match.

I realize I can’t stop anyone from doing anything. That is, anyone but myself. As the warriors and the conflict around me is my best teacher, it has brought me to the place where I choose to rid my consciousness of skin color in all it’s manifestations. I will look for the luminous state of being beyond the crude matter. I will usually fail. However steadfast my resolve, my decades of battle training and a million years of animal instinct prevail most of the time.

All I can do is reflect on it later and again pull at the chevrons on my sleeve and the medals on my chest. My day to day has become a sport that measures how long I act mindlessly with conditioned reactions before awakening and realizing it. I smile, laugh at my small self, quote Casteneda’s Don Juan, “You indulged like a son-of-a-bitch.” Then the re-affirmations are put on like a salve. I’m not separate from anything. I am everything and everything is a manifestation of the same invisible, silent observer behind my eyes and ears. I reacted out of survival training and fear. A soldier is told if he doesn’t feel fear, he’s a dead man. Better to die and be free of war than to celebrate victory with blood on my hands. I surrender to what is, again. Then I pray some of it sticks. Next time, I’ll wake up sooner.

I have no right to criticize anyone who is walking in what light they have. If I’m evolving slowly with knowledge of the common rituals, imagine how slowly the sleep walkers progress. But again, I have to be mindful of the higher path in order to take it. To that end, I surrender my distractions. In principle, I’ve given up trying to get somewhere and focus on what’s in front of me, admitting what I’m feeling here and now. I don’t wish for a better “now” that what I’ve been given. Some wish that constantly and never live in the now. Simplify. Sweep out the fantasies in the past and future. Just observe. Just be. Just listen. Take the next step without analyzing every option in fear of being wrong. In practice, however, I daydream in one former or future world or another. But upon waking, I affirm that perfection isn’t in the future. Nothing is. This now is perfect as it is. Listen to the still, small voice and take the next step. Surrender again, and hope it sticks.

It’s wonderful beyond measure that you are here on this jungle path with me. You and I can admire, without fear, the beauty surrounding us as a reflection of the inner beauty of the One who remains nameless and formless. No segregation here. No superiority or inferiority. The one Witness admires the world it created looking through the many windows of countless houses. Rejoice that the dwelling places are not made out of ticky-tacky and all look just the same.

Whenever you feel the pain accompanying something that vexes your spirit, acknowledge the pain, then subdue it. Become the “better way” within instead of reaching for either a hammer and chisel, or a palette of cement to change the outer. Emanate love toward your other selves and hope it sticks.