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Dangerous Compassions

praying for those who migrate

Please consider praying for those who migrate, and consider supporting in more physical ways too.  A lot of my friends like No More Deaths.

praying for those who migrate

Respect and dignity are not optional.  I think borders are mostly ridiculous.  I’m an anarchist.  I want to be a butterfly flying over a wall.  If we had a functional culture based on love and actually caring for one another, not sure borders would be necessary.

There’s an idea I like: A border implies the violence to defend it.  Or maybe a border requires the violence to defend it, or a border is used as an excuse for violence.  And what about racism?  Borders often seem about keeping out brown people.

One of my truths is “Borders crossed us.”  My mom’s side of the family was in New Mexico for centuries, back when it was Spain?  Definitely when it was Mexico, and then the border moved.

https://chencho.bandcamp.com/track/borders-crossed-us

Even if you believe in borders, you can still love the humanity of all people.  Kids don’t belong in cages, and adults don’t either.  Packing people like sardines in a small space–yikes.

Even if you don’t like people or don’t believe we all have basic needs that deserve to be met, you could just see that in terms of public health.  Illness spreads!  Giving all people basic sanitation, food, and health care is good for everyone.

empathy

Praying for those who migrate, we can practice empathy for people who need to relocate so badly that they risk everything.  We can ask questions about who migrates, and imagine ourselves in their position.  Why is the world so unbalanced, with haves and have-nots?  What’s home?  What’s safety?

If we live in comfort, we can think of the factors that lead to other people not living in comfort.  And we can consider how to make a better world, with more justice and where all people are valued.

mama

It’s my mom’s birthday.  December first shines like a diamond.  So I share this meme specially in her honor.

My mom didn’t migrate.  She was a homebody.  Well, she was born in another state, but once she got to the coast, she loved California and home.  She loved to return home after a trip.  She said, “There’s no place like home!  There’s no place like home!” like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.

And my mom hated Catholicism.  She had no love for the Virgin of Guadalupe or Mother Mary.  I remember pictures of her in her first communion dress, standing in her front yard with a younger brother and her dad.  Her dad wore a suit.

saints

She did Catholicism as a kid and teenager, as required in her family of origin, until she turned 18.  She hated it.  When I asked why, she said it made no sense to her to pray to saints; she believed in a direction relationship with God and Jesus.

That’s ok she didn’t like saints.  But there were other reasons.  It’s funny the only things I love about Catholicism–the ritual, the spectacle, the art–are all things she didn’t like.  Last funeral I went to with my mom was at a Catholic church, and when I wanted to go forward with my arms crossed to receive a blessing from the priest, without taking communion, my mom was horrified.

Poor Mama.  She wanted to protect me from what was harmful to her, not understanding that it was beautiful to me.  She did a Christianity that was evangelical and creepy.  It has the same reprehensible missionary bullshit as many religions, but wearing more of a smiley face.  And the misogyny I learned in her churches hurt me deeply as a kid, and still hurts me now, as I work to heal what was placed in me.

love

My mom hated Catholicism, but she loved people.  She believed in love–no joke.  Also she loved kids; four-year-olds were her specialty.  So she might have liked this meme I made based on someone else’s meme.  She wanted respect and dignity for all people, like I do.

Praying for those who migrate is something we could do any day, but December 12 is as good a day as any.  Thank you for considering joining me on this special day virtually, in the spiritual realm.

I remember there would be prasad on the altar, and then prasad in the assembly room for us to eat, at the Vedanta temple I used to go to in Sacramento.  When I asked Swami about it, he said the prasad on the altar that he blessed made the other prasad in the assembly room get blessed by wifi.  He smiled–he thought that was funny.  Yes, religion is funny.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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