Eyes wide open - walking through Penn Station

It has been over 30 years since I last walked through Penn Station, close to 20 since walking through any major train station.  Back in those days, I'd ease my way into whatever took me to Manhattan with an amble up to 44th Street for a kick-back cup of coffee at The Algonquin.

Not so on Thursday afternoon.  I was a woman with a purpose - to get to Book Culture on Columbus, almost fifty blocks distance.  No way I was walking.  And it was around 5:30 p.m. - no way I was flagging a taxi.  For the first time ever, I headed to the subway.

What an experience!  Most of the chaotic crowd seem to know the choreography of rush hour, instinctively navigated through multi rivers of people flowing through the wide hallways.  Not me!  Yet, instead of feeling overwhelmed, found myself wishing I could watch the scene from above, the movement was so fast, fluid & fascinating.  Was fully engaged with awe, even as I did my best to not get run over by a well-dressed woman in bright pink Reebok's.

While the whooshing rush of humanity sticks most in my mind, what still chills my fluttering heart is the image of the police & National Guard troops along the perimeters of the station halls, well armed, holding weapons.  It was the first time for me, seeing that level of  "prepared for the anything" officers.  My breath still goes shallow, remembering my immediate response to just the site of them standing outside Duane Reade  &  Tim Hortons.   

They are there to protect & serve a city still heartbroken after 9/11, but... 
There is something that put even me on edge, seeing the fire power, the body armor & stance.  Necessary, but it comes with a cost.  The constant edge of fear that rises just seeing them.

 

This recent memory came to mind seeing a photo of a woman looking like she was almost dancing with two officers in riot gear, at a protest in Baton Rouge, LA.  

I understand why police would feel the need to bulk up their protection, especially after the tragedy in Dallas, but - again - it comes with a cost.  If my breath went shallow, my heart revved just seeing the armed police in Penn Station, can't imagine my physiological reaction to full riot gear.

And here is something I learned at this year's Leading to Well-Being Conference - - our heart sends more messages to the brain than the reverse.  Way more.  A tensed heart is going to send alarm signals to the brain must faster than the brain can send reassuring messages of "All clear here" back to the heart.  

Imagining how it feels to see lines of officers in riot gear, imagining how it feels to be one of them.  

 

I get the reason for the gear, although it absolutely looks super scary in ways that naturally puts everyone on greater edge.  But it's one of the many things we need to seriously factor into our understanding that 2016 is not the '60s.  Our police are trained in military tactics rather than community law enforcement, they - as a matter of course - often dress in flat-out frightening gear, past experience tells them to stay on high alert.  

My eyes were opened on Thursday, walking through Penn Station.  Looking at the picture of the young woman's ballet with the two officers deepened my sense of what I'd seen.  

We are a nation armed to the teeth,  putting on a show of potential devastating force at a peace rally, on the ready to be triggered into action.

Back in the actual '60s, my considerably older sister impressed her baby sister with an observation made seeing pictures of ready-to-roll police securing the perimeters of a peace march.  Walter Cronkite was describing the scene, the undercurrent of tension.  Mim said that having police at the ready was a double-edged sword, providing protection but also amping up the possibility of violence, even through an unintended or misunderstood action.

Never thought I'd be reliving those days.  But, walking through Penn Station on Thursday - hours before the tragedy in Dallas, which only amped things up even more - my eyes were opened WIDE.  Just writing this, my breath has gone shallow, my heart's revved up.  Imagine being in the midst of it. 

 

 

 

FROZEN melts my heart

John & I finally watched FROZEN.  Just the two of us, in the coziness of what he's tagged The Retreat, aka the former computer studio, now so much more.

As usual, the Universe ensured it was the right timing.  Because it could have been a very different experience if seen at the wrong time.

See, the story of Anna & Elsa is a version of the story of this Elsa - me - & my older sister, Mim. 

Something traumatic happened to the character Elsa when she was a little girl, with the fear of fall out so severe her parents decided that isolation was the best chance to limit the reverberations. 

In Mim's case, after whatever happened when she was a little girl that froze her inside, my parents - and possibly older brothers - made it their mission in life to keep whatever it was buried deep down when no one could see it.  Like keeping the palace gates shut & the doors closed; no one saw the pain but it was never healed either. 

Instead of being resolved, like Elsa's unshared secret, it became the center piece of my family's life.

And, like Anna, I had no idea why.  Like Anna, I remembered the fun that Mim & I had for so many years, to all appearances best buddies & devoted sisters.  Until I became old enough & separate enough to be a threat, to risk uncovering What Must Be...  I don't even know the word.  Made UN.

The prince who wins Anna's heart caims he was invisible to his family for years;  I was invisible - UN - to mine forever.  Anna said Elsa shut her out & she never  knew why.  Gee, do I know that feeling.

If only sisterly love could have warmed Mim to the fullness of her life as it was meant to be.  But she was too encased in the ice of fear.  There was no getting through to the genuine loving vulnerable Mim.  Get too close & she threw up as devastating a wall of barbed ice as stunningly effective as anything Elsa conjured. 

I finally watched FROZEN because someone said it ended in a similar way to A Wrinkle In Time, with love being what changed everything.  I knew that, but nothing could have prepared me - or John, who knows, has lived, my story - for tonight. 

It was strangely liberating, seeing how the end unfolded.  Liberating, yet leaving me with tender "If only..." in my heart. 

Emerging from our crucible

We all have our own cross to bear, we all - hopefully - emerge from our personal crucible.  That cross can be unimaginably heavy, that crucible almost impossible to experience.  The experience can be so vivid, we can be tempted to forget that every other soul on this planet is experiencing their own challenges, facing them in their own ways. 

One of the toughest, most unintuitive things we humans are called to do is to accept others as having equal worth as ourself.  That can be hard to do, especially when others make up uncomfortable or angry or afraid.  But that does not mute the call.

Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy self.  For some strange reason, a lot of folks seem to think there is a conditioner on that.  Love their right to life, even if they drive you nuts.  Do not wish them ill.  No matter what.  That isn't some airy fairy ideal - it is what we were taught is essential for our own spiritual happiness.

Each of us experiences our own crucible, from which we are meant to emerge stronger better wholer/holier.  Each of us. 

Judge not that ye be not judged.  That speaks for itself.  Look around - how many strong-faith Christians seem to have forgotten it? 

We each have our own cross to bear, our own crucible to experience & from which to emerge.  All of us.  We all have the potential for limitless love & caring, growth & compassion. 

Let's each get over ourself & get on with living according to the call.  Give life our personal best.  And let others do the same.

Paths taken

It seems such a short time ago that it first hit me, "We are all on our own path."  And it only JUST struck me - that was my first experience seeing boundaries within my family. 

Was it twenty fifteen ten years ago that I first fully realized there was no need to worry about my sibs or my mother - they were on their own path?  That each has THEIR path, unfamiliar to me but just right for them.  No need to worry or try to avert problems or head off possible whatever.  Whatever happened, it would be right.

The Tao is the Way, the Path.  But there is no describing it.  Those who think they can are not experiencing the Tao.

So it is with all of us.  All we can do is walk the path, experience its transforming powers, know that walking it with all the integrity we can muster, believing others - all others - are doing the same.  In doing that, we open the way to transformation beyond imagination - ourselves, our surroundings, the world, universe.  It starts with walking our path, our Way, believing in our mind heart soul that all others are doing the same. 

Judge not that ye be not judge.  Walk your path, let others walk theirs.