A balm in Gilead: a writer’s thoughts on the Ferguson verdict
In the pre-dawn quiet, I'm still pondering the Ferguson Grand Jury verdict. It's another divisive moment in our nation's history, and I find myself wondering how we might rise together from these ashes, how we might turn our eyes, hearts and minds toward the common good.
I do miss the days when leaders spoke with eloquence, intelligence and sincerity; when by their actions, they inspired change. But in reality, it all comes down to what we–each one of us–is willing to say and do. I don't claim to have the answers, but in this morning's musings, I came across a passage that inspires me to do what I can, in this present moment: Write.
From Rebecca Solnit's HOPE IN THE DARK:
"The transformation of despair into hope is alchemical work, an artist's work. And what all transformations have in common is that they begin in the imagination.
"To hope is to gamble. It's to bet on the future, on your desires, on the possibility that an open heart and uncertainty are better than gloom and safety. To hope is dangerous, and yet it is the opposite of fear, for to live is to risk. I say all this to you because hope is not like a lottery ticket you can sit on the sofa and clutch, feeling lucky. I say this because hope is an ax you break down doors with in an emergency; because hope should shove you out the door, because it will take everything you have to steer the future away from endless war, from annihilation of the earth's treasures and the grinding down of the poor and marginal. Hope just means another world might be possible, not promised, not guaranteed. Hope calls for action; action is impossible without hope."