A Lesson from the Yard of the Month

Yards are very brown right now where we live.  The ground is dry and the grass is burnt.  Signs along the road advise: Extreme Drought Conditions... Conserve Water.  Looking at the yards on our block, the effects of the dry, hot weather are obvious.  Unless you look at the house on the corner, that is.

The house on the corner has lush green grass, blooming flowers, and a sign in the front that proclaims "Yard of the Month" from a local nursery.  I have some rather harsh judgment against a nursery that would encourage using the amount of water necessary to keep plants healthy when everyone is being urged to conserve what resources we have.  It's hard for me not to make assumptions about the people who live in that house, and ultimately they wind up becoming symbolic of an irrational sense of entitlement in my mind.

Really, why do they think it's appropriate for them to waste a resource that we all must share just so their yard can be a little prettier than the yards around it?  OK, it's a lot prettier than the yards around it.  And it's not that I care about the appearance of someone's yard all that much... it's the principle of the thing.  Shouldn't they be fined somehow?  (I mean, over and above the hundreds of dollars they must be spending on their water bill.)

Then, through an interesting bit of synchronicity, I hear a little more about how water gets used in this country.  About 52 percent of fresh surface-water consumed (and about 96 percent of the saline-water we use) goes toward producing electricity.  42 percent of the ground water the U.S. consumes actually irrigates agricultural land.  Only 11 percent of the ground water our country uses goes toward public consumption, which includes water for drinking and bathing as well as washing cars and watering lawns.  In all likelihood, the amount of water the people at the end of block used on their lawn to keep it gorgeous is not going to break the proverbial bank.  They just make easy targets because I see their yard so often and it seems a less worthy recipient of the limited water supply than food-growers and power-producers.

Of course, they still have to pay the price on their water bill.  I'm no more inclined now than I was before to spend hundreds of dollars just to combat nature on the issue of a lush green carpet of grass.  It just doesn't matter that much to me.  It obviously does matter that much to the folks at the end of the block.  It matters enough that they are willing to spend a little (or a lot) more than other people in time, money, and labor.  It matters enough that they are willing to go against the standard practices of the community, potentially making targets of themselves for people like me who drive past and heap judgments and criticisms.  Sure, they may actually have an unwarranted sense of entitlement.  I really don't know.

What I do know is that there are some things that matter that much to me.  I don't always act like it.  Sometimes fear of how much I will have to sacrifice stands in my way.  Sometimes I wrestle with a fear of how other people will see me.  I actually want to be more like those people with the lush lawn.  I want to have the evidence of well-tended ideas and the lush fruits of creative effort, even when it involves doing something counter to what others are doing.  Even if it means placing myself in the firing line for some one else's criticism. 

Why Christians Should Back Down on Gay Marriage

...confronting a couple of big flaws in the vehement Conservative Christian opposition.

Independence Day is tomorrow, and our country celebrates freedom from tyrannical rule.  Yet there are some who would prefer to enforce tyrannical rule on others.  There are some who seemingly cannot accept the possibility that their perception of things is not the only "right" way.  I am thinking here of those Conservative Christian spokespeople who still argue with great passion against the legalization of gay marriage.  While I am a straight, married man, at various times my wife and I have both worked closely with people who are homosexual, and some of our closest friends are gay.  Some of these individuals have more solid monogamous relationships than some heterosexual couples we know.  It seems at first glance that the issue doesn't really affect me directly, but it also seems incongruous to celebrate historical freedom while ignoring current inequalities.

I don't actually think anyone needs to defend gay marriage.  When people open their eyes and see homosexual couples in the light of truth, I trust that they will find nothing more than people with all the same relationship joys and sorrows as heterosexual couples.  The problem is that ignorance and volatile rhetoric can stand in the way of seeing all people with equal honesty.  As far as I can tell, the Conservative Christian argument against gay marriage is based on two ideas.  The first is that marriage should be between a man and a woman, and the second is that homosexuality is in and of itself sinful.  These somewhat dishonest premises deserve a closer look before anyone uses them to judge a group of human beings.

There is no biblical absolute regarding "one-man, one-woman" marriage.  There may be a legal precedent in this regard, but legal definitions of things are revised as a society evolves.  Basing a concept of what relationships should look like on a culture thousands of years and thousands of miles away seems ludicrous to begin with, but a little reading reveals that the modern Christian idea of marriage is not really a scriptural concept.  At best, it's an interpretation based on cultural norms.

Sure, at the very beginning of the Bible, Adam and Eve are touted as the first people in the book of Genesis.  Then, we cover five generations in a single sentence just a few chapters later, and we read that Lamech (Adam's great-great-great-great grandson) married two women.  It isn't judged as to its morality, it is simply a statement of fact.  Lamech doesn't face any particular hardship or punishment because of this polygamy.  A little further along in Genesis, Abraham's wife, Sarai, suggests that he sleep with her handmaiden, as if there's nothing morally problematic about it.  From there on, there is matter-of-fact discussion of men taking multiple wives and concubines throughout the Old Testament.  The children of concubines are considered legitimate heirs, and these women are treated as members of the household.

In fact, the Bible instructs that when a man takes a second wife, he is still obligated to clothe and feed his first one (Exodus 21:10).  Gideon, a righteous man who brought 40 years of peace to Israel, had many wives (Judges 8:30), and Solomon, considered to be the wisest man in the Old Testament, had seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines (1 Kings 11:2-3).  All of this is before Jesus, though, so it's understandable that Christians would discount the premise of the first two-thirds of a holy book in favor of a concept of marriage proclaimed in the New Testament.  Except that there is nothing in the New Testament proclaiming that marriage must be between one man and one woman either.

Jesus tells a parable about seven virgins who are waiting on a bridegroom, suggesting that a one-man, seven-women marriage was not an unthinkable idea.  Paul writes in his first letter to Timothy that an "overseer" in the church should be (among other things) the husband of but one wife, which implies that there are other reasonable possibilities.  Nearly everything that Christians interpret about one-man, one-woman marriage is external to the actual Bible and then interpreted back into their holy scriptures.

I understand that just because the Bible contains information about something, this does not imply approval.  The challenges and pitfalls of having multiple wives are clearly indicated, just as the challenges and pitfalls of many other situations are illuminated.  Adultery, which would presumably be sexual relations outside of the approved household, is frequently discussed as a sin, but sexual relations within a marriage relationship are never condemned, no matter how many wives one has.  Adultery is actually deemed wrong in one sense because it is equivalent to theft, stealing another man's property (wife).

There is a blatant bias in this discussion, in that a man can have multiple wives (with all of the joy and hardship it may bring), but a woman cannot have multiple husbands.  Culturally, women were not deemed full-fledged people when these scriptures were written, so it's difficult to see how any commentary about marriage between two equal human beings can be entirely based on biblical writings.  It must be accepted that some amount of adjustment and updating is required because our culture is different from the culture of ancient people.  Otherwise, any discussion of marriage based on Christian scripture should assume the reasonableness of polygamy and the status of women as valuable property.  So how does one pick and choose what to update and what to let stand as it is written?  The one-man, one-woman definition of marriage does not hold up to scrutiny as a biblical basis for denying homosexuals the right to marry.

Claiming that homosexuality is sinful also doesn't hold water as a legal argument, since the distinction between absolute legal issues and subjective moral matters is at the heart of the separation of church and state.  Using assumed sinfulness is a bit of a cowardly approach to begin with, since the Christian stance is that everyone is sinful in some way and cannot be otherwise.  According to the actual scriptures, no human being can live a perfect life free of sin, but it makes sense for church leaders seeking power or popularity to pick and choose which sins get the most attention.  I have never heard of protesters picketing public ceremonies with signs reading: GOD HATES THE HEARTLESS or GOD HATES GOSSIPS.

Based on the idea that homosexuals should be denied legal equality because they are sinful, there are a lot of other groups to whom we should deny rights.  Since Jesus never actually spoke against homosexuality, Christians have to use the words of the apostle Paul, who mentioned it in two of his 13 letters which made it into the Bible.  In Paul's letter to the Romans, just after he mentions men "committing indecent acts" with other men, Paul includes among the sinful greedy people, envious people, people who cause strife, deceitful people, arrogant people, people who spread gossip, boastful people, heartless people, ruthless people, and more.  If we took to heart the assumption that we should exclude rights to all those who sin by the standards of the Christian Bible, we would not be able to justify a free society on any level.  Capitalism is, at its very core, sinful by these standards.  And people who are allowed to arrogantly proclaim that they know what God wants have already condemned themselves.

If we just measure by the seven "deadly" sins of greed, envy, gluttony, lust, pride, sloth, and wrath, it would seem that homosexuals who desire a monogamous marriage relationship are not committing a sin.  People of any sexual persuasion who desire intimacy outside of marriage could be considered lustful, and there are plenty of Conservative Christians who get caught with their proverbial and literal pants down.  Actually, for a religion with a primary mandate to love, the Christian church manages to spew an incredible amount of judgment and hatred, which seems pretty close to pride and wrath from where I'm sitting.

Like everyone else in America, Christians are entitled to their opinions, but that doesn't mean that their opinions should form the foundation of national law, especially when their opinions are based on the flimsiest of premises.  There is no clear "one-man, one-woman" definition of marriage in the Bible, and although homosexual behavior (outside of marriage) is considered sinful by one New Testament writer, so are a multitude of other behaviors practiced by Christians day in and day out.  It is utterly senseless (another sin Paul lists in the first chapter of Romans) to allow for cultural interpretation in the matter of biblical polygamy and to stringently cling to a scriptural condemnation of homosexual relationships.

I find it hard to believe that I am the first person to point out these inconsistencies.  Maybe all of this has been said by others, in which case I am happy to add my words in support.  As a member of the arts community, I operate in close contact with gay people, straight people, and people who don't share that kind of information with me.  They are all people, and I cannot see any rational reason that any of them should have more or less rights than anyone else.  Especially in a country which celebrates freedom from tyranny.

Judgment Is Belief Used as a Weapon

Driving down the freeway, I saw an old van spewing exhaust fumes in a cloud behind it.  My immediate thought was, What a jerk!  (Actually, it was something a bit harsher than "jerk," but that will do.)  Then, I responded back to myself, Why is the driver a jerk exactly?  I drive a hybrid that leaves a much lighter carbon footprint than many vehicles, and although I am pleased by the sense of environmental responsibility, my primary motivation is that I get incredible gas mileage and spend less money on fuel.  I use canvas bags when I go grocery shopping, essentially because it is a very easy habit that I perceive as having a significant effect on the amount of non-biodegradable waste I create without inconveniencing me in the least.  We recycle, which doesn't cost us any more than having our garbage collected and is as easy as throwing something in a different receptacle.  Very low impact on our habits, for a perceived higher impact on the environment, whether or not it actually makes a significant difference in the grand scheme of things.

A depiction of beliefs turned into judgments?

So, when I see this van fogging up the road with exhaust, I label the driver a jerk because he seems unwilling to do his part.  I'm doing my part, so he should at the very least be courteous and conscientious enough not to smog up the road in his wake.  This unknown person became, in my mind, ungrateful, irresponsible, insensitive, unintelligent, and oblivious.  But wait.  What if the driver really is oblivious?  How much of a jerk can a truly oblivious person be?  And while I don't necessarily enjoy the smell, how much confidence do I really have about the actual impact of this vehicle's exhaust?  Aside from my indignation, I don't have a wealth of empirical facts to go on.

On that same trip, I was flipping through radio stations, and I happened to land for a moment on an individual making an outlandish claim based more on a personal victimization theory than on factual evidence.  At the time I didn't associate my own judgment against the van driver with the radio personality's tirade.  Rather, I thought, Why don't people use their brains?  And the dialogue in my own head continued, Maybe they do.

Everyone doesn't see the same things I do, and when they do, they don't always draw the same conclusions I do.  It doesn't have anything to do with right or wrong.  We all come from different circumstances and experiences with different sets of information and beliefs, and so we can't all look through identical lenses.  Although I can't be certain (since I'm not in other people's heads), it's as likely as not that other people do indeed use their brains to their fullest capacity, draw the best conclusions that they can, and choose the courses of action they deem best.  Or some people may simply be oblivious.  How would they even know if they are?  How harshly do I really want to judge someone who literally doesn't know any better?

At the end of the day, I am responsible for my decisions, and I want those decisions to make sense with my knowledge and beliefs.  I can't know what's going on in other people's minds, so it ultimately doesn't make sense for me to assume malice where there may be ignorance or even a thoughtful approach that simply differs from mine.  My conflict with thinking that each person is only responsible for his own life is that I believe that we are interconnected, that we have an impact on and are impacted by other people.  I don't believe that anyone exists in a vacuum.  Our actions (and inaction) have an effect in the world.  That belief provides a framework for my own choices, and it's easy to form an expectation of how that belief can play out with other people who have the same sense of connection.  But how does that work in a messy world of people who are unaware or who have deep conviction about an entirely different interpretation?

The best conclusion I can draw is that my sense of connection with other people does not rely upon their sense of connection to me or anything else.  To judge other people based on my impression of how they should act assumes that everyone should see what I see, know what I know, and draw the same conclusions I draw.  I don't actually think anyone can know how things ought to be, so I don't really want to put myself in that place of perceived omniscience.  All I can do is live out my beliefs to the best of my ability, and accept that there is a world of people who see things from different perspectives.  None of us are completely right, but none of us are completely wrong either.

Still Reflection on Troubled Waters

An accompanying job in one of my old stomping grounds has stirred up memories of a challenging situation.  While I'm not one to wallow in regret or rehash the past over and over again in my mind, I do occasionally consider what I could have done differently in a given situation, so that I might learn something valuable even if an experience didn't play out the way I would have preferred.  As I played through this particular sequence of events from my past, I came upon a startling realization.  Although I made conscious efforts to "not make the situation worse," there is very little I could have done to change the outcome.  It would have been more authentic, and perhaps had a greater positive impact on some of the people involved, for me to simply speak directly and honestly without going overboard on efforts to be diplomatic or polite.

As concise as I can be while still painting a more or less complete picture, here is the story.  I fired someone.  Actually, I eliminated their position.  I did so as gently as I could, and I offered another possibility for the person to be involved and continue to earn an income.  This individual was essentially getting paid for doing the same thing that several other people did as volunteers.  It was a bit of an ethical disconnect for one person to get paid to do something that other people did for free, and the budget wouldn't allow me to pay everyone I would have liked to pay.  However, I needed someone to do a different task, a more unique task that I could practically and ethically justify paying someone to do.  It seemed like a perfect fit to me.

Not so for the individual in question.  The position for which I wanted to pay someone was not desirable to this person, so when I stopped paying for her participation, she stopped participating.  I found someone else to fill the paid position and went on with my job.  It was, after all, nothing personal.  When I heard about another paying opportunity for which she was quite qualified, I passed it along, but she wasn't interested in that either. Instead, she started a whisper campaign to get me removed from my position.

One person who was sympathetic to her point of view happened to be the board chairperson, and this position held more power than any salaried position in the organization.  The chairperson already had some significant differences of opinion with me about the organizational structure.  I believed that the paid staff had been hired because of our expertise in our areas of focus, and that the volunteer board existed to guide and support the vision of the organization, spearheaded by staff leadership.  The chairperson believed that the staff were hired help who were expected to follow the orders of the board, lack of expertise or leadership notwithstanding.  This distinction was never clearly communicated to me, so I continued to operate under my own perceptions.

I knew that there were communication issues.  I knew that the board was slow to make decisions, and that many of those decisions were based on fear rather than vision.  I knew that there were rumblings going on behind the scenes and in the shadows.  In other words, I knew this organization to be like most other organizations.  So, I offered leadership from my position to support the stated purpose of the organization, not realizing that leadership was not really what was expected of me.

Eventually, ten months after these events began, it was suggested that I resign.  I did so, and they ushered me out as quickly as possible, with a polite reception and a plaque.  I received the plaque graciously and told everyone how wonderful it had been to be a part of their "family" during my time there, and I left it at that.  In the moment, I thought there was no reason to bring up any of the misguided or dysfunctional actions that led to my departure, since really there were only a couple of angry people with personal agendas that created a toxic environment.

Now, looking back at that situation, I realize that nothing I would have said could have made matters worse.  I'm sure there are things that someone could say or do that would have exacerbated things, but there was no reason for me not to be direct and honest with the people involved.  My situation would have been no different, and (although I doubt anything coming from me would have been received) they just might have heard something that no one else was willing to tell them.  Instead, I gave up and let them have their dysfunction, and in the process I didn't trust myself to be able to confront them with loving honesty.

Sometimes, being adept at self-deception leads us to the illusion that we are also effectively deceiving everyone around us.  I want to be the kind of person who will tell someone, "What you are doing doesn't line up with what you claim to believe."  Not out of spitefulness or malice, but simply because there is really nothing to be lost on my end and everything to be gained on the other end.  If I could go back and observe, "It must be frustrating to constantly be at the center of upheaval and turmoil," I wouldn't have been telling the chairperson anything astounding, but it would have conveyed that I saw the pattern of his involvement in one organization after another. 

Of course, I cannot go back and have any impact on that organization.  That time has passed, and I have moved on to other endeavors.  But I will continue to interact with people for the rest of my life, and I want to take as much as I can from my life's experiences, the ones I absolutely love as well as the ones that are frustrating as hell.  From that chapter, I can glean (among other things) that there isn't that much to be gained by me trying to "not make a situation worse."  I can trust my own authentic baseline of tactful diplomacy, honest care, and incisive discernment without adding anything to it.  It may not change the outcome in the least, but it will change how I am with myself, and that is ultimately worth more than anything.

Adventures in Beaurocracy

There isn't much need to carry cash anymore.  Or checks for that matter.  Everything is payable by plastic, or else it's gone completely electronic.  All of the vendors that are providing some utility or service for our home encourage automatic payments, taken right from a bank account without me even lifting a finger.  Of course, I still have to remember that money is being virtually vacuumed out of my account, but I certainly don't have to write a check or hand over any paper bills to anyone.  In fact, the only legitimate business I have seen in recent history that required payment by cash was a parking garage during a special event when the fees were different than usual.

Imagine my surprise when I learned that renewing a driver's license in the state of Texas required payment by cash or check.  The last time I renewed my license, I did so online.  It was quick and convenient, and I used a debit card.  Imaginary money was magically transferred from my electronic account to the Department of Public Safety's account without anyone needing to write a check or count any dead presidents.  This time around, however, they required that I appear in person to fill out a little form, have my vision tested, and get an updated photo.  I walked in to the driver's license facility to see the expected throng of waiting people, sitting in chairs or slowly queuing through lines.  I assumed they were queuing, at least.  They weren't actually moving, but the impression was that infinitesimal forward motion was indeed taking place.

I went first to the information desk, since a large sign on the door instructed me to do so.  It was right next to a large sign that admonished against bringing food or drink into the building.  Nearby were several signs advertising the convenience of renewing one's license online and some other signs that got lost in the overwhelming visual chaos of messages.  The kind lady at the information desk told me I needed to fill out a short form and wait in one of the lines.  Easy enough. 

"Do I need anything else?" I inquired.

"Just your old license," she replied.

Simple.

So, I filled out the form and stood in the line.  It moved.  Slowly.  I watched people, generally calm, perhaps a bit bored, waiting in their respective places in their respective lines, and before long I was next.  I had my form, I had my license, I was ready.  A surly older woman who was pushing retirement called me up to her window and asked for the form and my license and $25. 

"Is a debit card OK?" I queried innocently, expecting that any form of payment that would work for the Department of Public Safety website would surely work in person.  Not so. 

"Cash or check," she snarled, adding a snippy, "The sign on the front desk says so."

I took my form and license and left, rather disappointed, frustrated, a bit angry, and perhaps a smidge indignant.  I did glance at the front desk on the way out to observe a small square sign that read: Cash or Check Only.  It was posted at waist-height, amid all of the other informative signs about how easy it is to navigate the DPS website.  Part of me wanted to make a scene, to play the victim, to demand to know why a form of payment accepted across many parts of the civilized world for almost any service or product imaginable was not good enough for the Department of Public Safety.  Instead, I decided that there are simply some times when you have to play by someone else's rules.

Determined to renew my license on the day I intended, after lunch I stopped by the bank and made my way back to the DPS office, expecting that the lunch break crowd would have cleared out and that I would quickly slip back it and take care of everything.  Incredibly, the information desk line was nearly out the door and the throng seemed even denser than before.  I slipped past the information desk and to the end of the renewal line, feeling a little conspicuous.  I already had my form and knew where I was supposed to be, but I felt sure I would be "caught" disobeying instructions. 

It wasn't quite this bad.

No one said a word, and I settled into the line behind a trio of older women complaining about how long they had been waiting.  Their complaints became a bit louder until a deputy eventually came over to check on them.  Had these women been thuggish young men, the scene would have seemed even more tense.  The ringleader, a woman in her 70s, explained that she had been waiting for two hours and was too old to be standing around.  She had other things to do, after all.  The young, authoritative deputy sternly explained that this office had to handle licenses and identifications for all of the millions of people in the city, and she would have to be patient.  Wrong answer.  Her quick retort was that they should have a proportionate number of workers for all those millions of people they had to serve, which elicited some agreement from the officer as he departed around a corner.

A second gentleman came by a few minutes later, and he kept the ladies entertained for a while longer.  He explained about the new system that was being installed, and that change takes time.  It would have been nice to get the new system up and running without interrupting the normal business of the office, but sometimes the most ideal solution isn't possible.  They were calling more workers in to assist with things in the meantime, and the line should get moving along more quickly very soon.  Improvements for the long term are worth a little inconvenience in the short term, but he understood her frustration.

He was smooth.  And he was right.  Not long after he promised it, more workers appeared and the line began moving more swiftly.  Before I knew it, I was handing my form and my old license to a calm, polite gentleman, although a part of me had secretly wished for the surly woman who had sent me away earlier in the day.  My vision was tested, picture was taken, I provided my signature and my thumbprints, and while his computer was busy doing something, I said, "I hope the improvements will make your job a little easier."

"Nope," he replied.  "We've gone from three screens to 50" (referring, I assume, to the number of click-through screens on the computer to complete the process).

It seems that change can be a challenge for everyone, and it's not always easy (or preferable) to contain one's frustration.  Improvements can be double-edged.  Improving one part of a process may make other aspects more cumbersome.  And all of the challenges may not even be foreseeable.  I started the afternoon angry at the surly woman, the Department of Public Safety, myself, and the whole situation in general.  By the end of it, I was seeing the tenderness of humanity.  In the surly woman and the polite gentleman who were both facing an exponential complication to their jobs.  In the complaining women who basically wanted to be shown a little respect.  In the deputy who tried to use his authority to maintain peace.  In the gentle bureaucrat who successfully conveyed information with compassion.  In myself for missing a vital piece of information and doing what was necessary to accomplish what I set out to do.

I almost felt ashamed paying for my new license in one-dollar bills, but I was thankful that I had talked myself down from the stiff-jawed desire to pay in pennies.

Divergent Spiritual Paths

Some time ago, I wrote that my spiritual beliefs were different from the church where I was employed, and I took a stand to encourage spiritual growth in others, even if their beliefs are different from mine. I valued their experience of spirituality and I am willing to accept that others can have different views without my own being threatened. I don't have it that one must be right and another wrong in this regard.

At the time, I was somewhat vague about what those spiritual differences were. On a certain level, the specifics didn't matter as much as finding a way to support growth in others without sharing their beliefs. As I focus more on writing music and accompanying other skilled musicians, I am recognizing how great an impact basic spiritual beliefs have on everything a person does. I see the divergent paths leading to very different places in the lives of individuals and organizations, even those organizations that do not have a direct spiritual focus.

Some spiritual belief systems hold as a basic premise that human beings are broken, inherently evil, and incapable of doing any good on their own. Often this premise is accompanied by a corollary that everything good is God's doing, and that when human beings surrender to the divine will, God can work through them in spite of their basic nature. I see the potential for this to contribute to a sense of humility and a willingness for self-examination, but I see other results play out as well. Even with the acknowledgment that human beings are precious, when something we don't like happens, the belief that people are broken often wins out.

Ultimately, I see the belief that people are basically broken developing into disconnection from self and others. If people are broken, then our suspicions, doubts, and judgments of others are well justified. We have no underlying reason for respect of others or ourselves. When we disagree with another person's point of view, it can be attributed to their brokenness; and when we agree, we can attribute that to a mutual connection to the divine.

And if we believe that people are basically broken, we can easily rob ourselves of opportunities to create and achieve. I believe much of our anger and hatred toward others is just a manifestation of fear, quite likely fear that we ourselves are broken individuals. In fact, we can give ourselves permission to behave like broken people. Broken people seek to destroy rather than build up, they embrace revenge rather than grace, and they find reasons for separation rather than connection.

My own strong belief is that people are inherently capable. I believe that an individual may have unique strengths and weaknesses, but there is an underlying capability in every person. This personal belief impacts how I see others, how I engage them, how meaningful my connection with them can be. And meaningful connection with other people creates possibilities beyond one person's capability. When I acknowledge my own inherent capability, it means that I can establish a meaningful purpose and work toward accomplishing things that are in line with that purpose. Simply being human imbues people with value.

Capable people can still get off course from time to time, and it is important for growth that we benefit from one another's eyes. When we see people as capable rather than broken, the support we give and receive can come from a position of compassion, grace, and connection. And believing in other people's capability encourages full participation in the world we are creating.

Recognizing that either of these perspectives is possible in a wide range of faith traditions and spiritual systems, I am reminded of the old proverb about the dog you feed being the one that wins. How we treat one another is the most convincing manifestation of any spiritual belief, and my goal is that my noblest beliefs about others and myself will be supported by overwhelming evidence in my life.

Compassion

Most of the music I write has a message to communicate. Sometimes it's just a guiding principle as I am composing that winds up as a sentence in the program notes. Other times the message of a piece is integral to the audience's experience. Almost always, it is about awareness. I believe that people's lives would be enriched and more connected if they practiced more intentional awareness. My music is clearly influenced by that belief.

Some things we do work against our awareness, however, and I've been thinking about this as various people have been commenting on the national budget. We often respond to governmental programs from a position of compassion. If we want people to have health care, homes, the basic necessities of life, we are comforted by government-funded programs that tend to these needs. If we want businesses to be successful, for people to have jobs, for retirement plans to be adequate, we take comfort in government-funded assistance for corporations and businesses.

We are a compassionate people in theory, and when we see suffering on any level, we want someone to take care of it. Someone. Not us directly, but somebody ought to do something, right? Sure, it's OK if our taxes are used for it, as long as we can be comforted by knowing that it's been addressed. Then we can ignore it and go on with our lives. Or, if we choose, we can get angry about it without being burdened with responsibility.

I wonder if it is the government's job to be compassionate for us. What would we do as individuals if the government stopped all of these compassion-driven efforts? Would we rise to the challenge and become compassionate people in action? I suppose we could keep getting angry that no one was doing anything. Or we could still ignore the problems and pretend that we have no responsibility toward one another. What builds a stronger society, a compassionate government or a compassionate people?