“Are people being respectful to you?” I asked my dear one.
We were talking on the phone. They were out of state at an action, organizing with radicals in the woods. Daily they would go to town for cellphone reception and to txt people. I was fortunate to receive an unplanned phone call.
“I think so,” they replied.
We’ve had variations on this conversation many times. Next I usually ask, “Are you being respectful to other people?”
They say, “I think so,” in reply to that too.
My mind swims through all the potential forms of human interaction.
- chopping wood
- preparing meals
- conversation
- singing together
- sex
- kink
- first aid
- traveling
- foraging
- storytelling
- meetings
- hiking
- risking arrest
- dreaming of another world
That’s a lot of situations where we need to be respectful.
jiminy cricket
Sometimes I’ve felt surprised that my loved one subcontracts part of their morality to me. Yes, how did I become their Jiminy Cricket?
Probably you are too young to know who Jiminy Cricket is. When I was a kid, there was a Pinocchio movie floating around about family love, morality, and becoming a “real boy.” A side character was Jiminy Cricket who would tell Pinocchio how to be good.
You know, I’m not a gentleman insect in a top hat with a cane. I am a full on, fat fleshy mammal. I’d prefer main character energy! But somehow I became a source of morality to my dear one, the angel on their shoulder. I check in about the justice of their choices, especially social interactions.
Like many things start, the role was born from curiosity. I just want to know what’s going on. Then it becomes a pattern, and I get the reputation for the obsession I do indeed carry.
love
Are you here to love? That’s my main question. I guess we can have all different projects, any given lifetime. But being here to love is my assumption. If you’re not here to love, maybe… get out of my way.
All beings deserve respect and justice. Love is sacred, and love is God. We need a strong understanding of respect and justice in order to do anything in a good way.
Activism, community, intimate relationships, childcare, elder care, support work, family, mutual aid–even business, if our species is to survive. If they’re not based in love, what are you doing?
I’m not going to use people. I’m not here to fuck around with people’s lives. The only solution to our heartbreak and isolation is love. We’re animals who need other animals. No amount of money will soothe the animal who needs touch, togetherness, home, shared meals, holidays, and family.
community
The first real real conversation I had with my dear one was two and a half years ago when we were new housemates. We were talking on the porch of our shared community home, one of the first times we were ever alone together.
“What are you on earth for?” I asked.
Maybe that’s an autistic question, and my dear one is an autistic magnet for sure. They told me they are on earth to love.
I was like, “Oh wow, me too. We have a lot in common.”
The friendship went from there. Despite big differences in age and ability, we eventually formed this bond that at times seems stronger than us. Mother God has plans for us, and I’m showing up.
questions for discussion
Who do you show up for?
Why are you on earth?
Who’s your family?
How do you manage your morality?
Do you have the relationships you need?
How do you get grounded in love?
Are you respectful?
Do you respect yourself?
One reply on “respectful”
Laura-Marie,
The question “How do you manage your morality” caught my attention instantly.
Like most people, I got my first morality messages from my parents. My father was VERY moral…almost puritanical. He basically believed that if something were “against the law,” then it was wrong. Period. Walking on grass was a symbol of this. Grass (where we lived) was typically planted by someone, such as a homeowner or someone who worked for a business or organization such as a park service. The grass symbolized property ownership. If you walked on grass, you were violating the property owner’s rights, and disrespecting the time, money, and effort they had put in to plant and maintain that grass. And since that ownership was recorded on some official document somewhere, that ownership was the law, so if you walked on grass, anywhere other than in our yard, you were doing something against the law, and therefore wrong. I heard my father admonish me to stay off the grass so many times, that even now, in my late 60s, I notice grass and look to see if there’s a way to get where I’m going without stepping on it.
My mother was different. Her morality was MUCH more fluid, and centered around people. Whoever was directly in front of her at any given moment mattered the most to her. She would size them up, try to figure out what they wanted, and then work on complying. Quite often, she would agree in the moment, but once the person was gone, she’d let me know whether or not she REALLY agreed. If she disagreed with their viewpoint, it was likely that she disagreed with their existence, and she made this clear via curse words and ridicule…always behind closed doors.
But back to Dad! “Honesty is the best policy” was one of his pet sayings. So if Mom said something nasty about someone in private, I would feel compelled to shun, dismiss, or disrespect them in public. Needless to say, this did not do much to enhance my popularity! But I thought my behavior was very moral!
The one thing my parents failed to teach me was love. For Dad, love meant obligation. It was an endurance contest. My mother (and I, at times) made life exceedingly difficult for him. But he never walked out on us. Despite Mom’s frequent accusations, he was never unfaithful to her (that I know of). They were together 48 years until Mom passed away. He stayed out of obligation (and the very codependent love he always felt for her). Mom stayed out of fear… she knew life as a single parent was a hill she never wanted to have to climb, and she also feared disapproval from family members.
But unselfish love wasn’t a factor within our family. If it was in a religious text, my father could refer to it, but it was an abstraction. Just another “law on the books.” Real love requires more. You have to feel it AND look beyond the moment. Self-taught lessons are the hardest. You can’t have true morality without love. I’ve had 35 years (since my parents died) to redefine morality in terms of love. And so far, I’m managing.