I'm No Expert

The Pull

from a blog entitled, "Why I write" November 2011

If you haven’t felt it for yourself, I’m not sure that you can fully understand. Its presence is not unlike a sixth sense. An unexplained yet apparent awareness of things that simply occurs, sometimes. It’s like that, in the sense that it is temporary, fleeting, and impossible to predict. But, it is also more than that. If you’ve never felt it, you might relate if I connect it to the feeling that comes with seeing someone whom you love…unexpectedly, across the room. You glance, and there that person is. Did you feel it? That leap? That flutter? That momentary discombobulation and uneasiness until your mind has time to process that this occurrence is in fact welcome and in fact good. That, that is the feeling, sort of. 

And then there is something else. This is where I fear I may lose you…. Let’s see. Have you ever pondered something…just considered, ‘what if?’ long enough to let your heart believe for a second that all things are probable? Have you ever said, “God, I know this sounds crazy. God, I KNOW this sounds CRAZY, but maybe if You are allowing me to think it then maybe it isn’t so crazy after all….” Have you ever felt such isolation, such desperation, such inner destitution that you surrendered all to God and said, “Please guide me and help me to do Your will.” I have. I think I’ve only lived in that state a few days, maybe weeks, of my entire lifetime, but I have prayed those words countlessly. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6

Sometimes I’m in the car. Sometimes the bathtub. I do a lot of thinking in both places. In both places I’m often alone, physically, at least. But sometimes, when I’m alone and my mind and heart are free in thought, I surrender to God’s will—because I want with all of my being to live the life intended for me….and in so many ways I have so much making up to do. And when I do, well, I can’t explain it. I just have to tell you. I get the pull. 

I’d call it a push, only it must not be. What I mean is that it is gentler than that. It is my belief that if God or the universe wanted to give me a push, I’d feel it—pronouncedly. The pull I feel, but it comes as a subtle, gentle wash like wave, a friendly tug at the wrist, an adamant, reassuring, nod. There you go. Yes, that’s it. You are doing fine. Keep going. That’s right. The pull.

What I'm Trying to Say

 "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Peace matters to me.

I'm not an expert, not about peace anyway. I want to clear that up right now. I didn't study Political Science or History or even Sociology. I don't know why good things sometimes happen to bad people or why bad things happen to good people. I know grammar well; I guess if I had to pick something I'd say I'm a grammar expert…

I love music, but I'm not a musician. I love to listen. I have a fiddle, but I can't play it. I love to sing, but I'm not a singer…

When I was a little girl I decided to become a Rockette. I grew tall enough, and I kicked hard enough, but it didn't happen. I love to dance, but I'm not a dancer. I'm a librarian. I'm an expert on the Dewey Decimal System. I'm also a teacher, a former English teacher….the reason for the good grammar, and I'm a writer….I write more than I speak, but I also write before I speak, and to hear me and know me you must listen and understand me, so before you judge me, before you decide if I am a good writer, or a good speaker, you must be a good listener….are you listening?

I wanted to dance more than anything…I did for a while too, and I loved it…but it didn't last. I didn't lie down and give up though. I was too young to give up, so I just kept going, kept searching, looking for something in need of an expert. There's a saying, "the cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity." When I was little I asked so many questions that my mom ran out of answers. Sometimes she'd just kind of look at me and shake her head. I became an expert question asker….take that! And then, I learned to read. C.S. Lewis once said that, "We read to know that we are not alone." I read because I had questions that needed answers. I read, and read fervently, vigorously, intently, passionately, indignantly….and I learned a paradoxical truth very early on: The more I read, the more questions I had—the more answers I found—the more questions arose—the more books, the more authors, the more authors the more books….I will never--regardless of the length and span of my life on Earth—read everything that has ever been written. It is simply and astoundingly impossible, and in truth—the first time I fully realized and accepted this, I cried.

I'm no expert, especially about world peace, or politics, or human history, but this much I know is true—time—a lifetime—is brief—it is glorious—it is valuable—it is brilliant—but it is brief…we are too often reminded of this truth. Therefore, because I cannot possibly read all that exists, I must use my time wisely. If I cannot read it ALL, then I must spend my time in good company. Why squander my time on trivial trite or hateful words?

I'm not an expert, having read so little of the human cannon in the thirty years I've been reading….I began when I was four….but as much as I love to read—and as much as I love to share the love of reading with my students—my passion—my passion is writing. But do you know what Thoreau said on that? Thoreau—that great American thinker who set off to Walden Pond on an experiment in human existence, he said, "How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live." So I guess I'm not an expert writer yet either. But how can one be? How can we live enough in our short lifetimes to read all that needs to be read and experience enough that when we write it means something? How can we live standing up and survive long enough to write it all down? I'd like to ask Thoreau that. I can't, because he lived long enough to write it all down and that was that.

I never asked my great-uncle Joey many questions, because I was never sure exactly what to ask, but he didn't mind—he gave me his stories—over and over again enough times that I know them by heart. He left his experiences—from the days after Pearl Harbor to four years and four days in the Army through Panama, Germany, and Belgium. He didn't have to tell me about 9-11 because I experienced that on my own, but he told me how he felt about it, and he told me how he felt about war, and I listened because he was the expert. He didn't just tell me about war though, he told me about farming, he told me about life…about whales and skunks and flashlights and Fords. He was a life expert with 94 years of experience, so I sucked in my breath and I held on and I absorbed as much as I could for as long as he could….

I don't know, but I don't think that life is about being an expert. I think that maybe it is about striving toward becoming one—at something—anything—depending on who you are, but none of us are born experts at anything….

I don't think that we're intended to be perfect either—we're meant to follow the example of perfection, but Jesus acknowledged that we are human, fallible, and incapable of perfection…. I wish that I had answers—if I did, I wouldn't be here though—I'd either be on a library shelf—having fulfilled my purpose and written my books—or I'd be writing them right now—in isolation—not here—not in the moment….I want to be an expert—I want to know why—I want to be able to explain and tell you how we live in peace how to imagine as John Lennon so eloquently surmised, but if I listen to the experts I must acknowledge that first I must live.

Do you remember what Atticus Finch told his children? Have you read To Kill a Mockingbird? Don't tell me if you haven't, just promise that you will….Atticus told Jem and Scout, "Before I can live with other folks I've got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn't abide by majority rule is a person's conscience."

I'm no expert, and I'm no hero, but God granted, I want to be. I've got to live with myself, and my family has to live with me, and I want my kids to be proud of me like Jem and Scout were proud of Atticus, not because he won—because he didn't remember?—but because he tried. Because he did everything within his power to do the right thing—even when everything else was against him.

I'm not an expert, I'm not Atticus Finch, and I'm not a superhero….not a REAL one anyway. I don't have a cape but I do have a pretty pair of gold heels, and I don't have super powers, but sometimes, when I talk, people listen, and isn't that enough? Sometimes I write how I feel and I share it and other people read it and they understand, they're empathetic and we're bonded and isn't that enough? I wasn't teaching for long when I realized that there are people—kids--looking for a hero, and why shouldn't it be me? Not as I was or as I am just plain me, but why not strive to be better? Why not strive to be the very best me so that if I were chosen, if one of those kids needed a hero and chose me, at least they wouldn't be disappointed. I don't have a cape, but they seem to like my heels, even the boys, and I never lie to them—ever—so they believe what I say. I stole it from Kathryn Stockett the author of The Help, it's true, but I tell them as I tell my own children, "You are Kind, You are Smart, You are Important" because isn't it the truth? Isn't it true that when someone tells you something over and over you start to believe it? If I told you every day that you were stupid, insignificant, worthless, a disgrace: you'd either quickly grow to hate me or you'd soon begin to believe me. It's human nature to believe what we're told. So why not make it positive. You are Smart, You have Value, You are Significant, Your life is Blessing. You are Kind. You are Smart. You are Important. Say it:

YOU ARE KIND> YOU ARE SMART>YOU ARE IMPORTANT

I'm no expert but I believe in peace. I believe in peace, not like one believes in fairies or the Loch Ness monster or Bigfoot, I believe in peace like I believe in God. I believe it because I can feel it. I get it—deep down inside me—farther in than my body even goes—inside the places where my physical body ceases to exist and I just am—my spirit. Peace exists as God exists. There is a universal innate energy in everything and in everyone and I know it because I feel it. I felt it when I was a little girl and I cried instead of going to sleep at night. I cried and told my mom that I was afraid that I might not be an angel one day. I felt the pull and I didn't know what it was or what I was supposed to do with it, but I knew it was real and it terrified me….as responsibilities often do. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it, not entirely, but I know this: every time I've ever tried to ignore it I lost my balance and I fell. When I started to pay attention to it—and when I started to ignore everything else, it became louder, more pronounced, more clear….and peace came over me.

Bad things happen. I've lost people who I grew to believe were immortal. On 9-11 I was 22 a second year teacher with a room full of teenagers and no answers. The day after, a student looked at me and said, "I don't know why anyone would want to bring a child into a world like this." But all I could think is who wouldn't? I was 22, a month away from my wedding, and I wanted to be a mother more than anything….In a world of bad don't we need more good? Who wouldn't want to do whatever they could to reset the balance?  I don't know better people than children….maybe that's why I surround myself with them. Kids are awesome! My greatest hope for the future comes from our children. When people shake their heads and commiserate about our sad world, our bleak future, our lost causes, I can't relate. These people don't live in the world in which I live. My world isn't sad. It is happy—even when tragedy occurs there is love and in love there is light. My world isn't bleak—it is rich and full of hope. My world is full of promise and fresh energy because my life is spent in the company of children. Children remind me that forgiveness is easy and possible and necessary. Children remind me that laughing is not meant to be rationed—and neither are hugs. Children remind me that hope abounds—but most of all—children—my children—your children—every single one of the thousand and more children with whom I've worked—kids—most of them teenagers! (I know) remind me that I have a purpose—that I am kind and smart and important—that I am meant to be here—that God knows that I'm worth it—that the pull is real and that peace is possible because peace already is. Peace is waking up in the morning and not wanting to get up but doing it anyway because you were born to do it. You were born to roll out of that bed—daylight savings time or not—you were meant to stretch into a smile and you were meant to say yes to that pull—or tug—or push however it finds you. Whether it is to write a song or give a hug or build a fence or tear one down. To feed, to clothe, to balance, to manage, to weld, bond, sow, reap, teach, or preach. Whatever you are called to do—do it—do it wholeheartedly, do it with passion and fever and you will know peace.

 I don't always know what I'm supposed to do—even when I do feel the pull, but I know this, If I don't do something, I can't be mad if no one else does either. If I'm going to be the change I want to see, as Gandhi suggested, then I need to be willing to get up and stand up. Am I nervous, uh yeah, but I know what happens when I don't listen to the pull, and that makes me even more so….

I’m no expert, but I believe that if we accept that the pull is real, that it isn't silly or inconsequential or just our imagination—if the next time we feel compelled to speak up or reach out or step in or call out—if we just do it instead of worrying what other people will think or say—peace will come to each of us. We can't afford to ignore the pull. What if Gandhi ignored it? What if Dr. King ignored it? What if Jesus did? What if he decided to just roll over and sleep instead of getting up and saving the world? Peace comes when one does the right thing….when one follows the pull. The way I figure, each of you must believe that peace is possible…if you didn't, you wouldn't be here….Gandhi said, "To believe in something, and not to live it, is dishonest."  A life of peace, a world of peace, has no room for fear. What is there to fear when one has peace? What is there to fear when God is with us?

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. lived peace. He died without fear. He knew that he would not live to see his dreams fulfilled. The night before he was killed, he said, "Well, I don't know what will happen now. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountain top…. Like anybody, I would like to live a long time…But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over, and I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the Promised Land. So I'm happy tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!"  

It is in each of us to do God's will. Peace begins with a pull….I'm no expert, but I don't think you should ignore it.

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