Karen G. Johnston
:Karen G. Johnston
:Karen G. Johnston
:Karen G. Johnston
:Karen G. Johnston
:In the quiet moments of reflection, I find myself thinking about my own life story, each page revealing moments of growth, resilience, and transformation. I wonder, where are there places in my story where I did my best? My least? When did I show up for myself or others? When did I disappoint? When did I choose to make amends? When did I chose to pretend I was infallible? All of these things are human, and owning up to them is how we get a clear picture of who we are, through the stories we tell. These stories, the tales we tell about ourselves, are the keys to unlocking the doors of personal and spiritual growth.
Think about a time in your life when everything shifted, when the world seemed to pivot on its axis. These are the turning points, the moments of realization that alter the course of our stories. Perhaps it was overcoming a challenge, navigating a difficult choice, or coming to terms with a decision you made. What story did you tell to get you through that moment? Did you make something up that you could aspire to? Did you own up and lean into honesty?
Adversity is not the end of the tale, nor a stopping point, but an opportunity for growth. Itβs not the smooth, easy paths that define, but the rocky terrains that build us. Each obstacle becomes a stepping stone, a testament to the resilience cultivated through the struggles faced. Loneliness and isolation were experiences that many of us faced during the COVID 19 lockdown, and too many are still in this space. Enduring this kind of long-term struggle has given most of us a greater sense of connection when we are in the presence of others, in person or online. This is one of many examples of adversity shaping us. What struggles shape you? How do these points of adversity influence your overall story? Do they define you? Are they stepping stones for learning?
I think about the unwritten pages of my story. The narrative is far from complete; the journey of transformation is ongoing. What will the next chapters hold? How will my story continue to evolve? These questions excite me. Encourage me to have hope for a future. To dream big, knowing that anything is possible because I have the capacity to imagine my story. To create the reality I want. It also gives me incredible focus to determine what I really want. If I dreamed to have a big, beautiful thriving garden but no space for one, I would think about what I wanted from that garden. If I want beautiful flowers that I could see all around me, then I can draw or paint them on every scrap of paper I can find, and put them on the walls around me so that every place I look I see beautiful flowers. The method is different, but the result is the same. Dream big.
In the stillness of your own reflections, your own dreaming, consider the stories you tell yourself. What tales shape your understanding of who you are? Are they stories of resilience, growth, and self-discovery, or are they narratives that hinder your potential for transformation? Take a moment to explore the narratives that guide you and reflect on the power they hold in shaping the person you are becoming.
Our stories have the power to script the future chapters of our lives. With intention, we can embrace the story that unfolds with each word, each reflection, and each move forward. After all, the story we tell about ourselves is not just a recounting of the past; it is a living, breathing narrative that shapes the person we are becoming.
In a world marked by imperfections and the passage of time, the concept of repair takes on a profound significance. Repair is not merely about fixing broken objects or restoring functionality; it extends to healing relationships, bridging divides, and nurturing our connection with the world around us.
Repair, at its heart, embodies the essence of compassion, forgiveness, and growth. Itβs not about sweeping problems under the rug; itβs about facing them head-on, armed with the belief that even the most shattered connections can be healed.
For us, this sentiment resonates strongly with our belief in the inherent worth and dignity of every person. This principle reminds us that every individual, no matter their background or circumstances, deserves respect and the opportunity to rebuild what might be broken.
Rooted in the Unitarian Universalist values, the idea of repair is not just a practical necessity but a spiritual calling that encourages us to cultivate compassion, empathy, and a commitment to justice.
Not too long ago, I was harmed inadvertently. My first instinct was to run, to put as much distance between myself and the people causing the harm. Iβd never been in a position where repair was on the table, much less the next step in a relationship. Over time, I received apologies that were sincere and full of ownership and a change in policy and rules to make sure no one else would have to endure the same harm in the same way. I didnβt have to do or ask for any of these things, they did it on their own. As time went on, I realized they not only meant it, but they were eager to repair the relationship.
Itβs up to me to accept when Iβm ready. I share this live story because this is not the normal outcome. It is more often the case that harm is met with gaslighting, anger, or even outright denial. This incident showed me that there could be another way. Mistakes and harm, intentional or not, could lead to stronger relationships. I canβt predict the future to know if this will lead to lasting relationships that survive this βouchβ but I can accept their apologies and allow repair with grace.
Communities can heal and thrive through repair. In a world filled with divisiveness, UUs stand as advocates for unity and harmony. Repairing the bonds that hold communities together exemplifies the transformative power of commitment to growth, both individually and collectively.
Repair is inherently tied to justice and equity. It involves acknowledging historical injustices, working to rectify them, and ensuring that compassion and empathy guide our interactions with others.
In the warm embrace of Unitarian Universalist values, the concept of repair takes on a transformative meaning. It becomes a guiding light, illuminating the path toward justice, compassion, and interconnectedness. Repairing brokenness, be it in relationships, communities, or the environment, aligns harmoniously with the principles that Unitarian Universalists hold dear. As we navigate the complexities of our world, may we draw inspiration from these values and strive to be agents of repair, fostering healing, understanding, and unity in all that we do.Β
Β
JeKaren Olaoya
from All the Pieces Fit
Scars
Are proof that
Life has moved forward
Has either hurt
Or healed
Changed
There is strength there
In the space between
Where the skin
Knits itself together
The power of what
We canβt see easily
Gives us strength
We didnβt know we had
There is beauty there
Where the healing happens
It seems angry like fire
But it is life
Eager to be repaired
There is no brokenness
Though fragile
Our skin is strong enough
To break only under
Extreme pressure
And we are mostly ok
After
Scars donβt take away from
Or make us less
Itβs ok to be afraid
To show them
But know
You will always be
Worthy
And free to be
Whole
No matter how many scars
Grace your body
In service to who you are
Karen Hering
On the threshold of change, we need to learn to let go.
Karen G. Johnston
Karen G. Johnston
JeKaren Olaoya
,Erika A. Hewitt
JeKaren Olaoya
,Erika A. Hewitt
JeKaren Olaoya
JeKaren Olaoya
Karen Hutt
,Lauren Wyeth
,Jen Crow
We can build on our traditions to keep pushing our boundaries.
JeKaren Olaoya
JeKaren Olaoya
Karen G. Johnston
Karen G. Johnston
One of the best ways I know to get things moving when Iβm facing significant change is to engage my imagination. The facts of my situation, and the logic and reason I use to arrange them, will only take me to the edge of what I know. Even using my five senses will only extend as far as the range of my sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch. But imagination has the ability to reach farther by accessing the deeper well of the unconscious and creatively rearranging what Iβve known before. The uniquely human capacity to imagine is a valuable threshold skill that can open a way into and through the unknowns of a future filled with change.
When we cling to what we know, it is easy to forget about the massive storehouse of knowledge hidden within each of us, a vast library filed away behind a door aptly labeled βthe unconscious.β It is there, in the back stacks of the mind, that our experiences first get shelved. Cognitive scientists tell us less than one percent of that material gets transferred to our conscious mind. Like a βclosed stackβ library where patrons submit requests for materials to be retrieved by librarians, our unconscious stores an expansive collection of knowledge entirely out of sight. Some of it is also out of reach of language itself, collected and shelved as pre-verbal feelings, sensory experiences and images that constitute the knowledge we call intuition. Dream worker and author Jeremy Taylor called this knowledge βnot-yet-speech-ripe,β using an old Anglo-Saxon term for the unconscious.
Fortunately, accessing the treasures of the unconscious does not require mastering the Dewey decimal system or turning to a librarian. Rather, we can be assisted by the colorful cast of characters appearing in our dreams at night, or by any piece of music, poetry or art that speaks to us. We only need to pay attention to anything flinging open the doors to the unconscious and beckoning us in to wander among the hidden stacks, often without knowing what we are looking for.
Imagination, dreams, ritual and the arts are all tools for accessing this larger pool of consciousness. In dominant culture today, these ways of knowing are often disparaged as less reliable and useful than science and historical fact. But any scientist worth their white coat knows that exploration begins with a dance between curiosity and imagination. We need to access a larger body of knowledge, especially when facing an unknown future. Our imaginations, creativity and dreams all extend our awareness to do just that.
Wang Maohua, a tai chi master in Beijing, once gave me an important lesson that changed my understanding of tai chi and now also guides me on the threshold of change. He began our time together by asking me to show him the tai chi I practiced at home. But soon after I launched through several forms, he stopped me. I was pushing myself through the moves, he observed.
βTry to focus your attention on the space above your head and below your feet,β he advised instead. βExtend your awareness to the space beyond your fingers.β He then led me in a meditative journey through my body, awakening me first to the space within my body and then beyond it. He told me to stop pushing my body. βInstead,β he said, βlet your body move by a gentle intention into the space around it, where your awareness is already waiting to meet it.β
We can borrow this practice of βgentle intentionβ when living on the threshold, casting our awareness across the gap of the unknown. By imagining ourselves on the far side of our threshold, we are actually stretching our attention beyond the limits of our senses. Gentle intention will open our awareness, allowing us to perceive what lies beneath the surface of things. It is a way of open-ended wondering, imagining what we are moving toward. Then, having imagined ourselves on the far side of the threshold we are crossing, we look up to find our own self waiting there, encouraging us on, and welcoming us as we arrive in a place where we have never been before.
excerpted and adapted from Living in the Between: a thresholderβs guide to personal and global change, by Karen Hering, to be published by Skinner House in late 2020.
Attached media: https://web.archive.org/web/20211110172819/https://www.questformeaning.org/podcasts/20_09/01.mp3
Sacrifice is a powerful, ancient, evocative word that conjures images of animals slaughtered in rituals to bind a community together in a celebratory feast for a long-awaited harvest after a drought. Sacrifice can be a visual, visceral and vivid concept that attracts our curiosity but repels us morally. Sacrifice is also described as a blessed act of holy reverence, a necessary rite to cleanse the soul of an individual or restore the hope of a people.
The concept of sacrifice is a complex religious, social and political construct whose meanings derive from cultural experiences and expectations, but I want to explore sacrifice as a political act associated with social violence. These days political and social sacrifice seems ubiquitous, from the rhetorical mobilizations at the U.S. southern border; to the ideological sacrifice of austerity for the poor and largess for the rich; to the “necessary” constructs of neoliberalism and libertarianism that emphasize privatization, deregulation, and unfettered free markets over public institutions and government services. We see the sacrificial environmental violence associated with the lack of urgency to address a rapidly changing climate.
Drill down into the data for an hour, and you will see that sacrificial thinking is the new normal. The motif of “sacrifice” or “blessed brutalities” and sanctioned violence permeate all layers of the social and cultural fabrics purporting to offer an explanatory framework for contemporary imperial American practices. Each instance of our blessed brutality—whether it is the execution of Quakers in Boston in the 17th century, the enslavement of Africans, the genocide of native people, or the abuse of wives in the early American republic—is all a distinct trajectory that is the bedrock of the American empire of sacrifice.
Yes, friends, today American sacrifice is an intentional machine gun mounted on a hill of lies that is aimed at the rule of law, the truth and role of expertise. Everywhere you turn, it seems, some form of sacrifice is rearing its head, demanding tribute and governed by an algebra of expected returns. The transactional nature of sacrifice creates unholy alliances and disturbing binary outcomes of either/or.
When we look more closely at sacrifice, we see that sacrifice is a form of violence that places itself in relation to a desired effect, so that the gain depends upon the loss or destruction of something—call this something the offering. The conscious act of sacrifice links the two. The offering might be a black rooster or a packet of tobacco, but it could just as well be a species, a landscape, the heart of a captured enemy or the youth of a nation. What matters is the necessity of this destruction within a logic that renders the destruction understandable—and worthwhile—as a means to some higher gain. Sometimes the terms are blunt, issued as a judgment: This species is common, uninteresting or of “least concern.” This landscape is worthless, remote or uninhabited—it can be destroyed. The minimal value of what stands to be destroyed will be recovered, many times over, in the projected return.
But friends, sacrifice also comes in the disguise of moral control. Just pay attention to the arguments that weave through the next housing development, the next culled species, the next police review board, the next military intervention, the next cut to the Special Olympics. Sacrifice is almost always a mechanism in which loss and gain have been made equivalent, the balance settled—like trading a mountain for jobs in the mining sector, a forest for a highway and a faster commute.
Derrick Bell was the first Black tenured professor in the law school at Harvard, and founder of the academic discipline of critical race theory. His 1992 book Faces at the Bottom of the Well includes an allegory entitled “Space Traders,” which explores what happens when extraterrestrials make first contact with the United States—using a holographic projection of Ronald Reagan—and offer to solve all of the country’s economic and environment problems. As proof of their power, the aliens turn the Statue of Liberty into solid gold and clean the polluted air over Los Angeles and Denver. The extraterrestrials have a price for this service. All Black Americans must be given to the aliens, for purposes unknown.
Will African-Americans become food, pets, subjects for experimentation? Perhaps they will be feasted, protected or worshiped? The extraterrestrials provide no answers. Could this be the ultimate solution to the centuries-old “Negro Problem”? A Republican president and his administration debate the merits of the offer from the aliens and eventually decide that the American people should vote on the matter.
Of course, this outcome has the superficial veneer of being “fair,” because the outcome was “democratic.” The safety, security, and freedom of Black Americans are treated as something illusory, debatable, something that can be compromised. The historic resistance to providing Black people inalienable civil and human rights makes the results clear for the majority of white voters. “Space Traders” concludes with millions of Black Americans—much like their ancestors being loaded into the bowels of slave ships centuries before—being marched at gunpoint into the cargo holds of the alien vessels. A return is calculated, and the decision is made to execute a sacrifice.
When this book came out in 1992, I remember talking about it with Black and white friends and our reactions were reminiscent of the OJ verdict in 1995. Very different responses. Many white friends were horrified by the story, unable to believe that such a vote could happen in the year 2000 when the story was set. Many Black friends were horrified that the white people were so naïve as to believe that it could not happen. And there was still a small set of us (me included) who pondered leaving the US for what could be a better life with the aliens. Many of us said that anything might be better than this place. I was willing to take that trip on the spaceship because the unknowable future might provide me with a new hope that I lack after 400 years in America. What would it be like to live in a world where I am not vilified, minimized, objectified or pacified by a system that has struggled so desperately to obliterate me and my ancestors?
Friends, remember the basic tenets of sacrifice. The sacrificial offering must be destructible—but also, it cannot be worthless. If anything, it must be exalted, because the destruction of its value is what renders the sacrifice worthy, even heroic. Sacrifice infuses the destruction of value with value, justifying itself not only in the prospect of a return, but also in the inherent nobility of surrender. Here the idea becomes not just dangerous, but also insidious, continuously threatening to identify destructive surrender not just as moral action, but also as the very ground of morality. To be good—to be a good citizen, a good person—is to surrender what you value, what you love, for a “higher” cause. In “Space Traders,” one of the ideas floated by the government was to create a selective service for Black people to volunteer to go with the aliens as a duty to country.
As Unitarian Universalists we have the imperative as people of faith to be spiritually animated by the sacrificial violence all around us. We need to be animated enough to see the sacrificial violence in policies that appeal to our heads and ignore our hearts. We need to be animated enough to dismantle false equivalences of sacrifice. We must be animated so we can demand answers, so we can resist the duplicity of sacrifice. We must make our faith three-dimensional enough to resist sacrifices out loud. When people of faith and goodness charge head on into that sacrificial altar to destroy it, the mechanism of sacrificial thinking will be disassembled, their logic revealed, their syntax demystified, and their weapons made inoperable.
So pause for a moment at the next “justified” sacrifice you are asked to vote on or participate in, the next “trade-off sacrifice,” and dwell on these questions: What is hiding among the lines of spreadsheet calculations and seemingly innocent platitudes of this sacrifice? Where is the scapegoat and how is sacrifice being framed? How does this sacrifice hide in plain sight? Whose hopes stand to be fulfilled in this and whose losses are guaranteed? And where do I stand as a person of faith?
Attached media: https://web.archive.org/web/20211110063450/https://www.questformeaning.org/podcasts/19_10/02.mp3
Is it a mega church? I tried one in Ft Wayne once. Hated it. Emphasis was on conformity. I found a great Unitarian Universalist church, lived it! Then I moved, and the nearest UUA is 20 miles away. It’s a worthwhile hike.
You're a Unitarian Universalist and didn't know it. Welcome!
wow is Marianne a unitarian universalist or what
Homestead: Who’s Profiting from Detaining Kids? - Unitarian Universalist Service Committee https://www.uusc.org/homestead-whos-profiting-from-detaining-kids/ …
I'm a Unitarian Universalist. We are a very small minority in our very red County. We are seriously considering locking the doors during our service for the first time.
There’s gotta be a Unitarian Universalist church near you! Our only common creed is that we believe in democracy & justice (there are people of all denominations at our church, including atheists). Definitely a good place to organize & a place with lots of resources ($$$)
Unitarian Universalist Faith. Still trying to figure out if this is really a religion or just movement or some scientific endeavor? http://uua.org/node/23081 via @UUA
@MagdaDavitt77 Hello from a fan in NYS. I have been a spiritual seeker all my life (raised Lutheran, became Baha'i in college, then Unitarian Universalist, now interested in the Unity Church and Quaker.) I love that you are a seeker, too. I send you blessings and love.
#UUSunday Went across the river to @westwoodUU, even though it was -38 & the furnace went out in the church, it was a great visit + potluck Then back across the river to @UnitarianUCE to enjoy the Mulitfaith Concert & presentation of the Interfaith Advocate Award #UU #yeg #wihwpic.twitter.com/5US79PM9Fy
#TransPhobiaisaSIN #BlackTransPrayerBook #TransPeopleAreDivine #UU Even though I don't believe in sin or divine, I do believe in the feelings behind the campaign and I believe in having a standardized hashtag for a coherent message we need a new pic, but the feelings are therepic.twitter.com/Bz5Wh4mSVn
The truck said -40C on the way to church this morning. (@UnitarianUCE was full though for our incredible Tazie service!) p.s. -40C=-40F
Join @indivisibledgo in Durango, CO on Sat. 1/19 for the Women’s March! Meet at the train station before 11am, at 11 we’ll march up to Buckley Park for a short program. Wear good boots/there’s snow in the park! Co-hosts @plannedparenthooddgo and Unitarian Universalist Church
I am in that picture! :-) #TransPhobiaisaSIN #BlackTransPrayerBook Trans People Exist & have Inherent Worth & Dignity @BlackLivesUU @SidewithLove #UU #yeg https://twitter.com/UnitarianUCE/status/1085401167037939712 …
I took this picture as we were getting for our #Solstice service on Saturday. I'll be back again tonight #HappyChristmasEve #MerryChristmasEve #UU #Unitarian church of #Edmontonpic.twitter.com/7jLRLuZyhf
Canadians (Ryan Reynolds and Sarah McLaughlan - @SarahMcLachlan), Gin, and #UU Unitarians!!! These are some of my favourite things!!
attending Veterans Appreciation Sunday at Unitarian Universalist Church of Fort Myers https://www.facebook.com/541536997/posts/10156384212341998/ …
New Rules Threaten Indefinite Detention of Children - Unitarian Universalist Service Committee https://www.uusc.org/new-rules-threaten-indefinite-detention-of-children/ …
The inherent worth and dignity of every person #Unitarian #Universalist #UUPrinciples #UU #Dignity Unitarian church of #Edmonton #YEG https://twitter.com/UnitarianUCE/status/1037752094382469120 …