When I think about transformation, I often think of when people say they had a “transformational experience,” or when, as religious professionals, we look for the ways in which ministry can be transformational for our congregants.

And it gets me thinking: What is all this transformation about? In my experience, a lot of people really don’t like change. Even people who say they want to be “transformed” also can really not like change! Why would we seek that which we can’t actually embrace? I tend to think it is because our entire human experience is leading to an ultimate transformation which we cannot know the result: death. So sometimes we are, at best, ambivalent, and other times outright hostile to change.

Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower is one of my favorite books about Change. Because in the book she explores the idea that God is not some distant almighty spirit, but rather the very up close and real experience of Change (capital C.) What an exciting idea to explore! Her most often quoted refrain from the book, and that which the central characters revolve, is “All that you touch You Change. All that you Change Changes you. The only lasting truth is Change. God is Change.”

When I first read that phrase as a young adult, it blew my mind! I loved it. I loved the capitalizations which conveyed the idea that what we’re reading in the capitalized word carried with it the reverence of the word God. Here was a religion I could get behind. The idea that I could continually be both transformational and transformed?! Wow!

This idea helped me look at the changes in my young adult life in a new way. It helped me realize that while there was change that I couldn’t control, I could still make that change part of my life. And it helped me realize that I had a deep responsibility for the Change that I created in the world. That Butler chose to capitalize the Y in “All that you touch You Change” was something I thought about frequently. That I continue to think about when faced with difficult situations and decisions.

In Parable of the Sower, the people who couldn’t change, couldn’t adapt, those who desperately clung to racism, sexism, and fascism, did not survive the new climate changed landscape. They met the ultimate Transformation while resisting the very changes which could have helped their survival. And when I think about the difficulties we face as Unitarian Universalists, I think about what it is we are resisting and could those things be the very things that can prepare us for survival?

In creating the community structures of Parable of the Sower, Butler relies heavily on the community building foundations seen in the “We” culture communities in which she was raised. “We” culture communities in the U.S. are most often found in Black, Latinx, Asian, and Indigenous peoples as well as other BIPOC communities. Among many “We” cultural values, most strikingly, the requirement of putting group needs ahead of the individual needs is foundational in Parable of the Sower.

So I wonder: What would it look like to put the needs of our entire faith community ahead of our individual needs? What are the needs of Unitarian Universalism at large? How do we meet those needs even when it feels like we are not getting what we want as individuals? This feels a lot like the conversations which are going on right now around the proposed changes to the UU Principles and Sources, often referred to as Article II.

As we’ve written about in recent issues of Quest, our denomination is in the process of adopting new language to articulate and ground our faith community. This new language is framed as seven UU values: Justice, Equity, Transformation, Pluralism, Interdependence, Generosity and Love.

I wonder if haven’t we actually already made these changes in spirit. Haven’t we already touched, and thus Changed how we practice Unitarian Universalism? What if the proposed changes — the new UU values — are simply the language catching up to the spirit of Unitarian Universalism?

Perhaps we have already touched and been Changed. Because in the end, Change cannot be successfully resisted but it certainly can be influenced. And we can do so together. ′

How do we remain open to change and transformation?

---

JACK
CLF Member, incarcerated in MA

Transforming is the action of changing every day, and each and every one of us is witness to transforming experiences whether we know it or not.

For those of us in prison: we meet new inmates, new staff. We are exposed to expressions of concern, love, happiness, sadness, sorrow, and even fear. Every one of our senses meets something new or different, something we had not noticed before, something we had not heard before or smelled before, and we can be open to being transformed by them.

So often we think over the years that nothing is new, and prison life never changes; one day in prison can seem like any other. You know what day it is only by what food is served. But each day is new, each day is different. Each day has the opportunity for us to think differently, discover something new, something we didn’t know before. You may discover someone you had only passed in the hall, someone different from those you talk with every day.

Journaling is one of the best ways of always looking for that one thing, that one day that was new. It may be the one thing that transformed your day into something different, or that offered you the opportunity to be transformed in ways we had never thought possible. Use your senses. Look around. Let your mind out of the cell around you. Let your thoughts roam. Dare to be transformed, to welcome change.

---

JACOB
CLF Member, incarcerated in AR

Being open to change and transformation is an important part of growing spiritually, maturing and succeeding in life. Transformation is to change or alter in some way shape or form. To remain open to this means to put yourself in situations, to experience new things, to learn — especially to learn of other cultures and religions and practice the knowledge you’ve gained.

By keeping your mind open, you stay open to growth, change, and transformation, but you have to want to.

---

JASON
CLF member, incarcerated in IL

Transformation is an interesting word, especially for someone who has been in institutions for as long as I have.

As I write the word transformation, it makes me think of who and what I used to be. When I was younger, I was full of hate and fear. I acted impulsively and reacted to what people said or did towards me, which got me into a lot of trouble, as well as a number of fights.

Now, I’m no longer filled with hate, and though I still have some fears, they are nowhere near as bad as the ones I used to have. Now, instead of reacting to what people say or do, I take a mental step back, think things through, and then respond to them.

Now, because of the changes I have made and continue to make as I work to transform myself into the person I want to be, my life is a lot less stressful than it could be.

Frances Koziar
CLF member

Our transformations
are our own, paths we choose
but are never forced to take.

What doesn’t kill you does not
make you stronger, but—
you can choose for it to,
learn lessons from your suffering
that help you create what you believe in.

And those transformations are yours
to be proud of, no one
gets to take credit for the good inside of you
or the skills you have worked on, especially
not those who have abused you.

Because you choose your self
if not your path, and that has always
been your strength.

Kay Anderst
CLF Member, incarcerated in KS

When I read that April’s theme was Transformation, I decided that it was time to share my story with the world for the first time. 2024 is a big year for me, as I have begun the Male to Female (MtF) transition process. It took a lot of prayer and soul searching to get to where I am now.

My journey begins in rural South Dakota. My parents are immigrants, I am a first generation American. We are of Eastern European and Jewish descent, so old Testament laws and morals were imprinted into me as I grew up. There was right and there was wrong with no shades of gray or alternate choices. The result of this strict upbringing was inner turmoil as I got older. I saw that my orientation and gender identity were not compatible with what I had been taught.

How can God love me, I thought, when every thought and action I took were tainted by sin? Why did He make me so broken, so against everything He wanted mankind to be? These questions haunted me every time I tried to pray.

In my 20s I turned away from God completely, going years without a single prayer. I embraced a bisexual identity and found a measure of happiness. After a time, I figured out that I was transgender, and it was only then did the pieces start to fall into place.

I was then angry with God. How could he do this to me? Was he asleep at the switch the day I was born?

My turning point came when a woman I was dating told me something. She said that God didn’t make mistakes, and that He put me here on earth because she liked girls like me. I was like this to be there to love her. Something else she pointed out was that there were millions like me, all through history. Would God have allowed so many of us to be made if not by his will?

This happened right before I came to prison. While it helped me make the final decision to make the MtF conversion, I have spent the last 4 years in hiding, biding my time until I felt it was safe enough to come out into the light. While difficult, God has helped me through this dark time. My personal relationship with Him is the strongest it’s been in my entire life.

So now is my time for change and transformation. It’s not an overnight process; in fact it will take a couple years. I will face many challenges ahead, but I know that what I do is by design. This is what He wanted of me. This place, this prison, is no longer my place of confinement.

It is now God’s tool of transformation and change. I am right where I need to be. I will emerge from this cocoon in 2 years and like a butterfly, I will be free to live the life and be the woman he always wanted me to be.

If anyone reading this is contemplating similar choices, or has been down this road before, your welcome to share your story with me.

You may contact me at: Kay Anderst 18611-273, PO Box 1000 USP 2, Leavenworth, KS 66048.

When my daughter was nine years old, she asked me which religion was the “right one.” The reason this was even on her mind is that my children are part of an interfaith family. Their father was raised Jewish and I was raised Muslim. When we married, we had a secular wedding and for a time chose not to raise our children in either of the traditions exclusively. We thought we could get away with raising them with no religious identity. However, this turned out not to be the case.

At the time we were living in New Jersey and my children’s best friends (also siblings) attended a conservative Christian congregation. I would let my kids attend programs with them mistakenly thinking it would be benign. This changed after my daughter returned home at age 5 declaring to her Jewish father, “Jesus is the light of the world.” To which he responded, “No he’s not, we’re Jewish.”

I realized at that moment that we weren’t being intentional in how we raised our children and they were clearly wanting to engage in some kind of religious community, even at their young age. It was age appropriate, wanting to belong.

I had already known about Unitarian Universalism and promptly looked up the closest UU congregation. Thankfully, there was one just two towns away, in Ridgewood. We attended together and the rest is history.

One year later, I was the religious education coordinator for a small congregation in Orange, NJ and from there I dove deeper into the world of faith leadership, eventually becoming credentialed in religious education leadership, a long and thorough process demonstrating competencies in leadership, faith development and the UU faith, among other things.

The reason we chose a Unitarian Universalist community is that it is pluralist. UUs do not claim to be superior to any other faiths and we affirm that there are many paths to what we understand to be spirituality, whether or not that includes belief in a deity.

This is a profound and sacred notion for the modern era. Especially because it seems that the world around us is doubling down on religious extremism. Religious dominance causes intolerance of those who are of a different faith, or choose no faith at all.

Truly embracing pluralism and the freedom to coexist in the same society while maintaining your own religious identity is a transformative idea. We are witnessing in real time the impact of religious extremism, whether it is anti-trans laws that purport to “protect children” or taking away the right to bodily autonomy, this kind of thinking is oppressive at its core.

The path to a liberated society includes embracing pluralism and not holding up any one religion over another.

As for my children, they continue to be on their own path. I will not share where they are, as this is their story to tell. I will share that their values and who they are is shaped by growing up as part of a Unitarian Universalist community.

What does it mean to be pluralistic in our beliefs?

---

Jack
CLF member, incarcerated in MA

Is God an old man in flowing robes with a long beard who looks down from on high? A Lord and Lady offering blessings to those in worshiping circles? A pantheon of Gods, each representing another face of a Supreme Being? Or Gaia, Mother Earth, in which we and all were created?

Is Jesus a prophet? The long awaited Messiah? A forerunner of Mohammed? An issuer of great wisdoms like the Buddha? On the son of a supreme being — but then aren’t we all sons and daughters of the Supreme Being?

Is Heaven a place of pearly gates, streets of gold, food aplenty, where we all learn to play harps and praise our God; a place where all earthly pleasures are ours? Is Hell a place of fire and brimstone, a land of ice and perpetual cold, where our earthly bodies are eternally tormented?

Is Heaven and Hell the legacy we leave behind, the kindnesses we showed, the ones we befriended, fought, touched, challenged to be better, to show love for all? Or is it the pain we left behind to be suffered generation after generation?

Does it really matter? Does it really matter how we envision a thing beyond human comprehension? Does it really matter what happens to our earthly bodies after death? Does it matter what name we use for those forces of creation?

Names come and go. Visions change as our lives change and evolve from a primitive society living on the land to a people of computers, space travel, and seeking to understand the stars.

What does matter is how we lived our lives, how we respected each other, and how we had reverence for all creation of the heavens and the earth. What does matter is not what we will gain or suffer after death but the legacy we leave for future generations. Will they show the love we shared or the pain we caused?

The future of and those who live beyond us is not written in stone—yet—but you are the sculptor with the hammer and chisel who will write it. What will you write? 

---

Jacob
CLF Member, incarcerated in AR

Pluralistic is, by definition, holding to the doctrine of pluralism, which is accepting and embrace diversity in all of its forms. The act of accepting and encouraging diversity leads to a better acceptance and love for others. It helps us to remember the fact that the Divine is Love; accepting others and their differences is a step to acting in Love and embodying the true essence of Love.

---

A Utopian Crucible

Lauren Silverwolf
CLF member, incarcerated in TX

Oxford defines pluralism as, “the acceptance within a society of a number of groups with different beliefs or ethnic backgrounds.” This does not sound like the world we live in today, but it does sound like somewhere I would bleed to see become a reality.

I joined the U.S. Army at the age of 18, straight out of high school. I was an Airborne Infantryman, and I swore to defend the Constitution. What I wanted was to defend the principles of being truly free, of being accepting of all who came to us, and of being what we proclaimed ourselves to be in word, although never truly in deed. I would love nothing more, and I would serve again to defend a truly pluralistic society.

I would like to introduce two more terms to define what this would look like: utopia and crucible. Again, we go to Oxford: utopia is defined as, “an imagined world or society where everything is perfect,” and crucible is defined as, “a container in which metals or other substances may be melted or heated.”

This may seem completely out of context, but think of a society like the crucible. If we melt together, we become one out of many, and if we could coexist in this manner, most of our reasons for war or violence would diminish, creating a utopia. Pluralism seems far off, to my eye at  least, but I believe it is achievable. The day we see it, we live truly in a Utopian Crucible.

Chaos and Concord battle in the collective mind.
Chaos whispers to every tribe, religion, and race

“Fear ‘the other’
They covet your power
They envy your advantage.”
She sings to each group,
“You’re the stronger, the higher, the better,
You’re the blessed. Privilege is your right.”

Concord’s small voice speaks of equity, justice and peace.

“Like us, ‘the other’ has tradition, history, community, art.
Like us, they are right to exist.”

“No,” cries Chaos.

“Only the strong, the worthy, the majority can rule.
The vote is your modern weapon for keeping them at bay.
If you cannot defeat them,
feign tolerance to hide your enmity while you bide your time.”

“Tolerance is not enough,” Concord interjects.

“We must be happy for them and their community.
Erasing a culture is not up for ballot.
We can’t hide our violence and bias behind popular votes.
It kills freedom, feeds Chaos, it is cruel.”

“Conquest and conformity,” Chaos asserts,

“is the only way to happiness.”

“Belief that, someday, all will accept the same beliefs,

the same god, the same history,
only perpetuates sadness and despair.”
Concord challenges,

“pursuit of happiness is not by forced acceptance.

Happiness grows

by being happy for each other,
by supporting each other’s spiritual growth,
by helping each other build meaning,
by trying to understand and encourage all those around us.”

May Concord’s voice be heard.

 

Recently, several people have taken the time to write to us about the ways in which we talk about Israel and Gaza, especially on our weekly talk show, Voices of Unitarian Universalism (aka The VUU). I thought that our wider community would be interested in my response.

It is correct to say that the CLF Lead Ministry Team has taken a clear stance on the current state of the conflict. We believe strongly that the preservation of life is the value that should be most paramount. I have been taught by Jewish teachers that this value is in line with the highest teachings of Judaism. We believe that all lives are worthy of preservation, even if all lives are not equally threatened by violence at present.

We also believe strongly that those with the most power to preserve life have the most obligation to do so. On a recent show of The VUU, my co-minister Christina Rivera eloquently spoke about the power imbalance present right now in Gaza, and why our stance is that Israel needs to be responsible for a cease-fire. Some have noted that Chris made them think; for this we are grateful.

We have not taken a stance on Zionism, nor will we; it is simply not our place as non-Jewish people. We understand why criticizing the actions of the State of Israel might make it seem as if we have done so, but we are clear that the actions of Israel are not on behalf of Jewish people everywhere. We have strongly opposed anti-Semitism in all of its forms, as we oppose all forms of hatred, oppression, and violence.

We have invited Jewish UUs onto the show who share our viewpoint on the abhorrent ways in which current Israeli leadership is dehumanizing Palestinians, abrogating treaty obligations, and murdering innocents. To be frank, we don’t want to feature voices who might support that. I don’t think that academically debating the term “genocide” is worthwhile as hospitals and refugee camps are being bombed. It’s a strong word on purpose.

We are committed to continuing this dialogue in the future. We are working on having Jewish UUs speak on The VUU about the ways in which anti-Semitism is rearing its ugly head around the world. When we do so, we will invite people who have been chosen by Jewish UU communities as leaders.

We hope that the CLF community appreciates the values with which we have come to these positions. We hope that you will continue to let us know how we can live out those values, when we agree and when we disagree with each other.

 

Interdependence has been a central concept to our Unitarian Universalist faith since our current principles were adopted in 1985, and yet, too often Unitarian Universalists have focused on the implications this has for our relationship with the natural world around us, without understanding that we, too, are part of that web.

What does it mean to acknowledge our place in the web of all existence?

Our Universalist ancestors taught us that we all end up in the same place when we die. Centuries ago, they meant that all souls would be in heaven, but I like to expand this theology and filter it through my scientific brain.

I am regularly stopped in my tracks by the unfathomable beauty of this notion that we are inextricably bound to one another. All of our being ends up in the very same place when we die—the same place it came from in the first place, the same pool of atoms and energy that has created all life since the formation of our Earth, the same protons and neutrons that will create all life for the duration of our planet’s existence.

We are one with the stars. With the planets. With the oceans and mountains and ice caps. With the forests and the deserts and the fauna running through them. We are also one with one another. This unity of existence has profound implications for how we live. We need to learn together to make decisions that consider the other beings with whom we share our fragile planet.

The theological notion of interdependence exists in relationship with other parts of who we are, and the most important has yet to be inserted into our principles. The most important concept that interdependence relies upon is accountability.

When we are accountable to someone or something, we hold ourselves responsible to them. When we are accountable, we allow others to measure our success. In justice work, we talk about accountability to those who are most vulnerable, those who are oppressed, those who are the targets of discrimination and hatred.

When we practice accountability in justice work, we take instructions from those who are most effected by the work we are doing.  When we practice accountability, we learn to live the tenets of interdependence.

We understand that climate change is changing our oceans. Carbon dioxide is acidifying them, hotter temperatures are melting ice and causing sea level rise. We understand that we are interdependent with the beings of the ocean, and that our fate as humanity requires that we address their fate.

What does it mean to be accountable to them, though? What does it mean to be accountable to the people of Kiribati, whose island nation is disappearing under the sea? How do we live understanding that our actions might determine whether or not they have a home in a decade?

We understand that modern agricultural systems are wreaking havoc on our planet, on its soil, on its beings, on pollinators and birds and animals. We feel our interdependence with the earth when we eat. What does it mean to be accountable to this knowledge?  How do we change our behaviors to take into account the needs of those most vulnerable to this change?

At CLF, we also understand that the addiction of dominant U.S. culture to mass incarceration is a direct descendant of the systems of oppression that founded this country. The United States began with slavery and genocide and continued into an era of terrorism at the hands of private individuals, and now it is the government itself practicing that violence.

We ask ourselves often what it means to be accountable to our incarcerated siblings, who are the targets of this violence. We ask ourselves often what it means to be accountable to Black and brown communities torn apart by systems of injustice. And now we are asking how our larger faith movement might be accountable to the voices of our incarcerated UU members. It changes the way we do things to practice that accountability.

I have heard some recently say that accountability is something they fear—because accountability requires those of us with power in this world to exercise that power as power-with, and not as power-over. It requires us to take directions, to listen, to understand relationship.

Instead of being something to fear, however, I invite us to think about accountability as the way in which we live our commitment to interdependence.

How do you relate to and honor interdependence?

---

DAVID
CLF member, incarcerated in AR

I find this concept to be new and exciting. Throughout my life I’ve been taught to depend on God and family only when I need help through hard times and to help those in need, but with the undertone of looking down on them, because they didn’t have family like I did to support them. In prison, my family is not here to help me, so I must make a place in my heart for my fellow prisoners, and accept their help as I also help them.

Through sharing this newsletter and talking about what I learn through the CLF, I have found people I can create a community with, and be interdependent with. We lean on each other by learning together through this church and community in written letters. We devour our mail from the CLF as soon as we get it, and can’t wait to get a pen pal (hopefully one from Boston, since the Red Sox and the Patriots are my two favorite teams!). 

---

Connectedness

JOSEPH
CLF Member, incarcerated in TX

“Every man and every woman is a star.” Those words, from Aleister Crowley’s Liber AL vel Legis, illustrates both the simplicity and complexity of the human condition. We are all special and unique, and are part of the larger cosmic dynamic set in place at creation. While special and unique, humanity must remember that they are not the center of everything, that the energy of others is necessary for vital existence.

Animism states that everything is alive and interconnected. This is true in the objective and subjective sense, in the microcosm as well as the macrocosm. We do not think twice about swatting a mosquito that bites or annoys us, but even those creatures play their part in the world. One may wonder how he/she/they are connected to the planet Jupiter, for example, as that planet is so far away from us on Earth. However, the universe is ordered. Jupiter is a sort of shield for Earth, taking hits from meteors that would end life on Earth. What benefit Jupiter receives from Earth is, as far as I know, unknown. However, because the universe is ordered, and reciprocity is one of the highest laws, one can rest assured that Jupiter also benefits.

The connectedness of humans comes through largely on the sociological scale. “People need people,” as the saying goes. However, the exchange goes far deeper than mere sociological “obligations.” People need people because nothing happens in a vacuum. We need each other to work out ideas, create the next generation, and bring about progress. These things all sound sociological, but in reality, they are the building blocks which enabled society in the first place. We not only need each other personally, we need each other professionally.

Remember, everything is alive and interconnected. As the form of creation with the highest ability to reason (as far as we know), humans are charged with recognizing our connectedness to the rest of creation, and being good stewards. Show me any religion, and I will show you the mandate for humanity’s stewardship. However, we must start with ourselves. If we cannot recognize and utilize our connectedness with each other as humans, the rest of creation will suffer.

Every human deserves the respect of every other human, and until the day this truth becomes manifest, our interdependence will remain a shadow of what it could be. Crowley’s formula, based in the Greek word Thelemn, stated: love is the law. Love under will. How strong is your will? Strong enough to hold the basic law of love? Reconcile your head and your heart, and you will find true connectedness with the rest of humanity, the world, and the universe.

Nambi Pambi
CLF member, based in TX

A girl with a curl and a ton of sass
Went
to class.

Killed in (and by) NYC,
She quit the act
To teach the facts
In Chi – Shy town.

Having no idea that even though the earth was round,
A person without a net
could still fall off.
Sissy pushed
And pushed
The stone up the hill of affiliation by achievement.

And then, She thrashed, and
She crashed, and
Her fragile health fell into a million pieces of relationships,
Broken by unavoidable need, ugly crying, and underutilized potential.
Oversharing, overcompensating, and
Overwhelming disability took care of the rest.

With characteristic persistence she fought to file down the jagged edges,
to pivot on the axes of former privilege
until they were smooth again,
And all her,
Again.

To no avail.
“If you have your health”… they say.
But what do they say next?
Now she says, some day, you’ll all understand.
Some day you will all need more than an occasional hand.

What a world we live in;
The definition of a support system,
or its politicization
or vilification
or our procrastination
because we are all so busy resisting.

Everyone has a battle to fight, a bullet to bite, a goal,
in sight.
But nonetheless,
She is going blind.
Who will be her eyes.

TIA
CLF member, incarcerated in KY

Love is the wish for all human beings to have happiness. Compassion is the wish for all human beings to be free of suffering and what causes suffering. Prejudice and being judgmental alienates us from each other. A quote from Mother Theresa captures this well: “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”

The monk and theologian Thomas Merton also spoke to this, saying, “the whole idea of compassion is based on a keen awareness of the interdependence of all living beings, which are all part of one another and all involved in one another.”

Spiritual practices like meditation and prayer can be used as tools to calm our mind, make us more peaceful, eliminate worry, develop concentration and understanding, as well as control our anger and jealousies, and rid us of negative actions and guilt. It is a tool of transformation; by taking the time to reflect on ourselves and our faults, we can change them.

How you treat someone is dependent on you, and you are only responsible for your actions, not everyone else’s. You can choose to change or transform anything you don’t like about yourself. You choose who you are and also who you associate with.

Many of us were reminded of the central role of community and chosen family in our lives by the articles by Aisha Hauser and Christina Rivera in the most recent issue of the Worthy Now Newsletter. I was forced to create my own chosen family starting in 1990, when I was disowned by my family of origin for coming our as LGBTQ. I’m male to female transgender, and I’m not a devout Catholic, which didn’t earn me any familial credits. Since then, I’ve seen no one, and not been invited to any family functions, or been notified of any births, weddings, or deaths. Looking back at this time, my one regret is not finding the Church of the Larger Fellowship or Unitarian Universalism earlier — though I know I may not have been ready to join the community at that time, given the long spiritual journey I’ve been on and the religions and philosophies I’ve studied in the time past 30 years.

Prayer now helps me to center myself in love and compassion. I’d like to offer a prayer that may also speak to you:

Prayer for World Peace

Peace be spread throughout the Earth!
May the orient express peace,
May peace come from the East and go West,
May peace come from the North and go South,
And circle the world around!
May the garments of the Earth,
Be in the place to magnify the Divine.
In this day and hour of this night,
May the world abide in an aura of Divine Peace.

Recently a Young Adult Unitarian Universalist I know asked me “I know Love is at the center of our faith but how the hell am I supposed to love my oppressor?!” This is such a good question. As we embark on a new year with the knowledge a genocide is happening on one hand and constant consumer messaging on the other, how do we center Love?

To be clear, there are as many different kinds of love as there are grains of sand on a beach. Family love, friend love, partner love, pet love, etc. But when we talk about Love being at the center of our faith, the most relevant love is called Agape Love. Agape Love is known for its qualities of empathy and sacrifice. It wants the best for everyone and is intended for everyone. In the Christian faith, from which both Unitarianism and Universalism was born, it is the love God extends to us and the reciprocal love we extend to God. That love includes all things and all people. It is a covenant of unending care.

What Agape Love is not is absolution. It does not mean that we do not hold each other accountable for wrongs. It does not mean we do not name a genocide as a genocide. It does not even mean we have to like one another. We can go so far as to hate someone and still find Agape Love for them. This is because even in our hatred we still must see the humanity in the other person. Even if they have acted in inhumane ways, Agape Love, our UU Love, calls us to uphold their worth and dignity as we hold them accountable for the terrors they have committed. See the difference there, we can hold people accountable and uphold their humanity. We can Love them.

So after I got through that mini sermon, of course this UU had more to say! Here’s a replay of the rest of our conversation:

young adult: So I can tell them I love them even if I hate them…that seems hypocritical.

me: Why are you even talking to them if you hate them?!! If they’ve done something so terrible to you, why are you allowing them into your life?

young adult:  Well you just said I have to affirm their humanity, don’t I have to engage with them to do that?

me: Goddess no! Agape Love says that you affirm their humanity, it doesn’t say that you are solely responsible for that.

young adult: So I can hate them and love them, just from a distance?

me: Yes, set a boundary. Make sure that their access to you is exactly as much or as little or as none as you want. There is no need to take care of your oppressor or abuser. Agape love means that when they are held accountable for their actions, it is done by someone else and it done while keeping their humanity intact.

young adult: Well what about revenge, what if I want them to suffer?

me: Ah, that’s really getting to the crux of it all isn’t it? It’s not about not wanting to love them or not. It’s that we want them to feel what we felt, suffer the way we’ve suffered. And we know that if we’re called to Love them, we can’t allow them to suffer. Even if we have. Even if we have at their hands. That’s really what this conversation is about isn’t it?

young adult: Well, yeah.

me: Will their suffering heal you? Will it make the world a better place? Will it in any way change what happened in the past?

young adult: No but…is this like the time you told me that hate is like drinking poison hoping that the other person will die?

me: Do you think it’s like that?

young adult: Hmmm, maybe. I’m gonna have to think about it.

me: Absolutely, that’s part of our faith too! And if you can, please let me know what you come up with because that’s how I learn and grow as a Unitarian Universalist too.

So beloveds, there it is. Let me know what you think so we can learn and grow together.

What does it mean to center the value of love?

---

Hank
CLF member, incarcerated in LA

Through my eyes, I see all humans with equal vision, regardless of diverse qualities, color, gender, and belief — this is what love looks like to me. Through my senses, I perceive all as one and the same, directed by cosmic order, consciousness, self, God or Guru, which are all synonymous — this is what love feels like to me.

Through my ears I hear and hold no judgment, condemnation, ridicule, or punishments for whatever is said — this is God, through me, in me at all times. Love is God, and God is love: not separate from me, and never forsaking me, for me are one and therefore I am.

---

Donald
CLF member, incarcerated in CO

Love is a simple yet complex emotion for us to truly describe. However, we seem to know it when we feel it. Problems arise when we grasp at, try to control or desire love. Problems also happen when we reject or do not reciprocate love.

Love is at its best when we just allow it to be, and in turn, when we just “be” in it. Love exists outside of us, sometimes with, sometimes without us. We are not necessary for love, but love is a necessity for us.

---

What is Love?

Ryan
CLF Member, incarcerated in FL

L-O-V-E. Probably one of the most misunderstood words in the English language. Mostly due to the fact we only have one word for it. The Greeks however have multiple words to describe different types love. Here are four of them:

Eros, the easiest, is physical love. This is where we get words like erotic. It’s the love of how things look/feel/smell/taste or any other physical property. This might be an initial feeling towards someone we’re attracted to.

Philia is brotherly love. Think of philanthropy, coming together to raise money for a cause. This describes the love towards friends, co-workers and even humanity as a whole.

Storge is familial love. Not a common root word in the English language, but this is the love one typically feels towards parents, children, siblings or cousins.

The most powerful form of love is agape, or unconditional love that continues despite and perhaps even due to our flaws.

This is sometimes the hardest to achieve because as humans we put conditions on so much, usually unconsciously. This is what we as UUs strive for, especially in our acceptance of the LGBTQ+ and incarcerated members. This is the love to strive for.

What about your love?

Elaine
CLF member, incarcerated in AR

Desperate and alone, this trans heart has been,
forever seeking its needs in places bereft of such things.
Trying to make due with what’s at hand,
knowing its needs would never be met.

Dark and tainted this trans heart has been,
always ignored and forgotten in a world so cold.
Always being refused and abused,
rarely has it known the warmth and light of real love.

Hated and jaded this trans heart has been,
just for refusing to adhere to the world’s ignorance and lies.
Never rewarded for standing true to itself,
but always cast aside, unwanted by others.

Begging and pleading, this trans heart implores you,
those who have the capacity for love and caring.
Don’t let others rule who and how you should be,
let you heart judge; it knows the deepest truths.

Danny
CLF member, incarcerated in CA

Drops of water fall
Onto sidewalks and raincoats
Gloomy clouds stretch on
Shifting winds and sunshine say,
“This will not be forever.”

---

Part I: the beginning of things, when cycles are born

When the world was very young, there were not yet any seasons. There were not even any days — the Sun and the Moon shared the sky in harmony, quietly watching over the world together. After time had been passing for some time, the Sun suddenly realized that he was tired. 

The Sun said to his friend the Moon:

“Moon, I have realized that I am tired, and would quite like to rest. What if we traded places here in the sky, so that we each get a break from watching the world, and have some time to rest?”

The Moon thought this was a wonderful idea, so they tried it out: each taking a turn to watch over the world in the sky, while the other rested. This is how the day and the night were born. This new cycle suited the Sun and the Moon very well — so well, that they decided that they each wanted their own larger cycles, in addition to day and night, so that they each had more time to rest and be renewed.

The Moon decided that she would wax and wane, showing up a bit less each night, until she was able to take an entire night off, and then come back slowly until she was in her full, beautiful glow. And so the months were born. 

The Sun decided that he wanted a longer cycle: he would go to sleep just a bit earlier every night and wake up a little later every morning for six months in a row, and then, more fully rested, he would start getting up earlier and staying up later for the next six months. And so the years were born. 

The Sun and the Moon loved their new cycles even more than they had loved the days. So much more felt possible in the world when everything worked in cycles. In fact, the Sun and the Moon felt so energized by their rest times that they decided they were ready for more life to join the world: in each new cycle, they introduced a few new beings. One new being at a time, they added mountains and rivers, trees and mushrooms, grasses and flowers and animal beings of all sorts. After many, many cycles, the world was full of beautiful new forms of life.

Each time a new being was introduced to the world, the Moon whispered to them: remember always that this world works in cycles. There are times of great light and activity, and there are times of darkness and rest. This is the great rhythm of the world, and all beings must follow this pattern in their own way. 

The mountains and rivers and trees and mushrooms and grasses and flowers and animal beings of all sorts followed these instructions, and they each found their own cycles. And for a time, all was well. 

---

Part II: Squirrel arrives, disrupts the cycle

The world continued on for some time, with the mountains and rivers and trees and mushrooms and grasses and flowers and animal beings of all sorts living on, each in their own cycle. Things were going well, so more and more creatures were added to the world: now the world had Owl and Crow, Deer and Spider, Hedgehog and Fox and Bunny Rabbit. Some beings struggled more than others to learn about the rule of cycles, but especially by the time the year got dark and cold, they always seemed to find their natural rhythm. 

One day, Squirrel was born. Squirrel was small and fast and so happy to be in the world. He was so excited, in fact, that when the first instructions from Moon were whispered in his ears, he didn’t quite absorb them — he was already scampering away, running up the nearest tree to explore and learn as much as he could about this new world he had found himself in. The other animals saw this, and it worried them a bit, but little Squirrel was so cute and inquisitive, they all figured that he would learn the way of the world sooner or later.

Squirrel arrived in the world on the summer solstice, when Sun was at his brightest and most full. Everything was blossoming and bursting with life, and Squirrel saw that the world was full of abundance. Even though every day after Squirrel was born, the Sun went to rest a little earlier and woke up a little later, each change was so small and Squirrel moved so quickly, that it was many months before he fully noticed what was happening.

A few months in, the days had become darker and colder, and the trees had started to shed their leaves as they prepared to rest for the darker months of the year. Squirrel finally noticed these changes, and one day, he asked Owl (who had been around for many years, and always seemed to have the answers) what was going on. Squirrel asked:

“Old Owl, why have the days become so dark and cold? The world had such abundance and warmth when I first arrived. Has something gone wrong?”

Owl replied: “Oh little Squirrel. Did you not listen to Grandmother Moon when you arrived? Our world works in cycles — the Sun and the Moon each rest in their turn, and so must we. There is abundance also in our rest.”

Squirrel heard what Owl had said, but quickly dismissed it. Squirrel was very young, after all, and had some of the arrogance that often comes with youth. He thought, “Surely that only applies to the old beings who have been here for many years — I don’t feel tired at all! I’m so small and quick, I’m sure I’ll be able to zoom right through this cycle thing without missing anything while resting. I’ll stay awake all the way through these long nights and soon enough, the Sun will be back to brighten the long days again.”

The days kept getting shorter and the nights kept on getting longer, and most of the beings in the world watched this great cycle turning and responded in their way. Many of the trees shed all of their leaves, and the plants closed up their flowers. Crow and Hedgehog and Spider and Bunny Rabbit cozied up their homes and rested all through the long nights. Even old Owl, whose way was to stay awake through the long night and to sleep during the day, still honored this cycle in her own way: she grew a thicker coat of feathers to keep her warm in the beautiful cold and dark world. 

But Squirrel, in his youthful arrogance, did not respond to the cycle’s turning. Squirrel pretended he was not cold and did not grow a warmer coat, but instead kept on moving so quickly that no other creatures could keep track of where he was. And even though it should have been Squirrel’s way to sleep through the long nights, he kept himself awake, wandering far and wide when he really needed to rest. 

Finally, the world got to the longest night of the year, the turning point in its cycle, and the Sun went down for his deep, restful sleep. The Moon, who lived on her own cycle, was up full and high in the sky that night, watching over all of creation, as she always did.

As the Moon watched the world that night, she was pleased to see so many beings still following her important first instructions: some were awake, as was their way during the nighttime, and many were resting, as was their way. All seems well as the night went on and the Moon made her way through the sky.

Then, when the night was almost over, the Moon spotted something strange: there was little Squirrel, wearing much too thin of a coat of fur, and staying awake in hurried activity even though she knew full well that was not his true way of things. Moon suddenly felt a flash of anger that this being she had brought into the world was ignoring her instructions so fully! Were none of the other beings seeing this and helping him learn? In her anger, the Moon stormed away from the world — leaving the dark night without even the light of her presence. The Stars, who always watched the world kindly from their far-away homes, saw the Moon leaving and thought they should follow suit. The Sun, without the Moon returning to wake him and start the next day, slumbered on. So the world was left in darkness without Moon or Stars or Sun: the cycle of the year had stopped turning. 

---

Part III: Squirrel learns to rest, everyone learns to turn the year around

It was Owl who noticed first. She loved the dark, so it was not the long darkness itself that she minded — but her heart felt it the moment the Moon and the Stars had left, and she knew something was wrong. There was an unnatural stillness to the world: the year had stopped turning. 

Owl, even in all her wisdom, didn’t know what to do. The year had never stopped turning before! How could she call the Moon back and keep the cycle going?

Owl decided she needed help, not just from her animal friends, but from all of the beings of the world. She flew around waking everyone up: the trees and the flowers, the deers and the spiders, the mountains and mushrooms, telling all of them, “Wake up wake up! The Moon has left us, the year has stopped turning!”

Soon, all the beings were awake, disoriented and confused in the pitch darkness. Owl was trying to get everyone ordered, to see if they could come up with a plan, when she felt a little tug on her bottom feathers.

She looked down and saw Squirrel, small and tired and shivering in his too-light fur coat. Tears were streaming down his young face, freezing in the cold night air as they fell. He tried to speak, but words failed him.

Owl said: “Oh my dear, it can’t be as bad as all that! What’s wrong?”

Squirrel, speaking through his tears, said, “But Owl, it is, it is! It is all my fault that the year has stopped turning. The Moon saw me running around when I should have been resting… It’s because of me that she felt so angry that she left the sky altogether. I don’t know what to do!”

Owl sighed, and was still for a few moments. The poor young Squirrel in front of her was so very tired and distraught — Owl knew that more than anything, before anything else could happen, Squirrel needed to sleep. Owl thought back to her earliest days and remembered a song that a grandmother of some kind had sung to help the beings of the world learn to fall asleep. 

Owl said, “Dear child. Rest now — the year has stopped turning, so really, we are in no rush. Let me help you fall asleep.”

And she started singing:

Return again *
Return again
Return to the home of your soul

Return again
Return again
Return to the home of your soul

The other beings who had been woken up in all of the commotion started to listen in — and particularly the older ones, who had been around in the very first cycles of the world, realized they knew the song too. 

Return again
Return again
Return to the home of your soul

Return again
Return again
Return to the home of your soul

Before long, all of the beings of the world, all of the mountains and rivers and trees and mushrooms and grasses and flowers and animal beings of all sorts were singing. It felt right to all of them, somehow, to join together in song when the world was suddenly so strange and uncertain. Little Squirrel, who had been so very exhausted from trying to outrun the turning of the year, was soon fast asleep — but the other beings of the world kept on singing. 

The sound grew so loud and resonant that even in her far-off place away from the world, the singing started to reach the Moon. She inched closer and closer until she could hear them clearly:

Return again
Return again
Return to the home of your soul

Then the Moon, the great grandmother of the world, realized: they were singing the song she had taught them! The anger in her heart started to soften, and she realized how hasty she had been to leave the world. After all, the beings she created were all still so young (that little Squirrel especially!) — of course they didn’t understand how very important cycles were yet. And now they were singing the very song that she had created to help them fall asleep! All was not lost after all.

And so, slowly but decisively, moving to the rhythm of their singing, the Moon returned to the world. She appeared again low in the sky, to the exact point she had left, just staying for a moment before going on to wake up Sun. 

The many beings of the world, still circled up in song as all of them knew they should be as soon as they started singing, started to feel a lightness in their hearts. The sense of unnatural stillness began to shift. Just as the sun started peaking over the horizon line, they all realized together: the year had started turning again. 

Little Squirrel, exhausted from his distress and his long refusal to follow his natural rhythm, slept for most of the month of this re-started year. When he woke up, the moon had gone through her full cycle, and was back in the dark, cold sky in her beautiful fullness. He saw her just for a bit, when she was low in the sky at the beginning of night. The young Squirrel was still moving as quickly as ever, but with purpose this time: he had much to gather to keep himself warm and fed before returning to a restful slumber for the rest of the night. Squirrel had found his natural cycles of things, and honored it as best he could. The Moon was glad, and she hummed an old familiar tune as she traveled, as ever, through her cycle in the sky.

All was well. 

---

* “Return Again” by Shlomo Carlebach, Singing the Journey #1011

Return again,
Return again,
Return to the home of your soul.

Return to who you are,
Return to what you are,
Return to where you are
born and reborn again.

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. It’s 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.

What are the stories that shape you?
What role does storytelling play in your life?

---

Jacob
CLF member, incarcerated in AK

This has been a harder question for me to approach. Many times we hit the point we want to ignore or hide the truth about the stories that have shaped us, either because of embarrassment, fear, or some other now silly-seeming emotion. As I sit here, though, I realize that if those stories had not shaped me, I may never have made it so far in life before incarceration or even possibly death.

To start, a bit about my familial/social setting. My mom’s side of the family is from Iowa, and my dad’s side of the family is very Hillbilly, Good Ole Country boy types from the Northern Hills of Arkansas. All of that meant a very big learning curve for a child.

The stories of Hedge Witches, Shamans, and Healers are accepted truths from my dad’s side of the family. On my mom’s side, there were hardcore Catholic rituals, teachings, trainings, and underpinnings. The two do not readily mesh, but I always enjoyed walking in both paths of my family, learning from both sides.

Then, you add in the fact that I am homosexual, and could never hide my effeminity. My father and his fifth wife loved to give me lectures on the stories of Sodom and Gomorrah, fixating on the homosexuals while ignoring the full stories. They never appreciated me pointing out the key fact that is was the culmination of the sum of all of the inequalities that led to their destruction. Often this would lead to arguments and anger on both sides.

Disney Princess stories such as Mulan, Cinderella, and Beauty and the Beast made me think, “If they can find love then maybe someday I can as well.” Or can I?

The stories of various novels, like the Ramona series, gave me an escape from the pains of daily life, while motivating my curiosity and creativity.

The stories that family and friends told of their experiences and things they had seen helped shape my ambitions and drive to leave our small town. Grandpa, my dad’s dad, would tell of the antics of his peers and family. Often these would make me not want to be trapped in those same patterns. My Grandma, my mom’s mom, would point me to stories of succeeding, being yourself and fighting for something. These encouraged my drive to help others as well as be an outspoken advocate.

All of these stories have pushed me on, opened my eyes to things I may have missed, as well as motivated me to leave the hills and to see what I could learn and do.

Overall, storytelling has greatly shaped my life. Now I write fiction and non-fiction stories in an attempt to help others in similar situations push through and succeed. We have to share our stories, our truths, and our experiences to help others know that it’s possible to push through it all. 

---

Comfortable

Barney Silk
CLF member, incarcerated in TX

They say I must have grown up with a ‘chip on my shoulder,’ but I’d like to see you come and push my boulder. Or walk a minute in this mile I call my life, and see how well you manage strife. I grew up watching other kids get things they never had to earn, that was a tough lesson I had to learn.

Because you see, I grew up in poverty and never knew what it was like to be rich, having to cut steps in the dirt to get to the mailbox from the ditch. Or wondering how me and my Grandma would make it another day, when black eyed peas and cornbread proved to be the only way.

So please don’t sit in judgment of me from the comfort and confines of your nice big home, because ain’t no one ever just throw me a bone. And don’t try to say, “you know what it’s like,” because I’m no fool, see you don’t know anything about the beatings and sexual abuse when I came home from school. Or about the times I was almost killed, lying torn and bloody in an old farm field.

And I’m not just some writer whose dream it is for his name to be called out from a crowd by a Raven fan, I’m comfortable enough just being a man. Because you see I’m a Silk and I know what it’s like, to not have all the tools yet still get it right.

---

Gary
CLF member, incarcerated in SC

Growing up in the South of the 1960s, my pre-school days were spent in the tender care of my maternal grandmother. These were seemingly innocent times long before video games, cell phones, or computers. The turbulence of the time, the Civil Rights Movement and War in Vietnam, were far removed from the fresh-baked bread smell of Grandma’s Kitchen.

My days were filled with tomato sandwiches, iced tea with lemon, and snow cream in the winter. But each day came with “naptime.” And naptime always came with one of Grandma’s “Lake Swamp Stories.”

Grandma was from a “little speck of a place,” as she termed it, called Lake Swamp in the South Carolina lowcountry. About 30 or so miles outside of Florence, Lake Swamp was little more than a local school, a tiny grocery store, and a barbershop.

Her daily tales were like a fantasy world to my childhood ears. No TV? No refrigerator? No indoor bathroom? I was fascinated.

The 1920s in rural South Carolina may initially seem a quiet, pastoral scene. Yet, Grandma’s stories of barn dances, alligators crawling out of creeks, thundering circuit-riding preachers, and huge Sunday dinners seemed like an amazing place in time.

But beyond being mere childhood pre-nap stories, Grandma’s tales gave me a unique sense of identity. She, unknowingly, lit the fire for my own love of writing and fed that flame with the basis for many of my short stories.

The 1960s were truly not “Leave It To Beaver” innocence for many, if not most, especially in the South. But my Grandma carved a safe space for my childhood and, importantly, gave me a love of writing.

Gary
CLF member, incarcerated in SC

Over a pot she’d dice wild onions
add a “mess” of greens cut from her garden
toss in a chunk of salt pork
then feed us lip-smacking joy
Wells of goodness from humble fare
the magic of a Grandma
a quilt from precious scraps
a christening gown, an old shawl
cornhusks made into dolls
snowcream dusted with cinnamon
and just a speck of rum
Tuberose snuff, yeast-baked bread
pillowy, soft, just life her hugs

Leo Cardez
CLF member, incarcerated in IL

 

“Corners,” my newest celly, is middle-aged and polite — the sort of man who carries the normal toil of the world. We have a lot in common and often spend hours talking about this or that. He’s easy to talk to, quick to grin with a wry sparkle to his eyes when he shares stories that are close to him.

Neither of us are much for idle chit chat or gossip, but occasionally we open up about our fears, hopes, and dreams and it can be quite powerful. I can always tell when he’s getting into a story, he leans forward pinning me with the force of his words. Stories of his past life, pre-prison, are tinged with regret; nothing more so than the loss of his daughter. She’s not dead, but when he came to prison in many real ways he died to her. Prison is certainly a type of death. Are we buried yet undead or are we dead yet unburied? She was only 8 years old when he came to prison and he still recalls her bright pink pajamas with the footies she was about to outgrow in another growth spurt. In fact, he told me, there has not been a single minute in a single day since he left that he hasn’t thought about her — not a moment has slid by when the world was not still oriented toward her. His words shook me to my soul. The depth of his tragic story of multi-generational addiction and abuse pinched the oxygen from the air. Yet, by all measures, it was clear to me he had learned to use his grief as a weapon for his faith and inner recalibration.

I see myself in all his stories, it is as if I’m speaking through him, only the names and dates are different. I suppose that is the purpose of good storytelling: be tiny and epic at the same time. The best stories are local slices of Life. They concern the neighborhoods where we grew up, our closest friends, and favorite things. They are close to the bone, the flesh of our lives. And yet, they are universal, too, because they speak to our shared humanity; the fears and hopes we all share as sons, brothers, fathers, and friends. Stories of prison woes, I’ve learned, are very similar regardless of age, nationality, or culture; what happened to one, happens to all.

Corner’s story is rooted in suburban privilege, but the story arc plays out similarly around the country’s prisons: an unfair criminal justice system, fear, loss, and the desperate attempt to find and hold onto hope and purpose in our cold, austere world.

It is an undeniable truth, when we open our hearts to hear each others’ stories — we oftentimes find ourselves in them; we realize we are not so different after all and others’ experiences can become our own. I’m confident employing shared storytelling as part of a larger restorative justice effort, connecting victims and offenders, would certainly break down barriers, shatter stereotypes, and be a conduit to true healing. But, that’s a bigger story for another time.

“There is no agony like leaving an untold story inside of you,” Zora Neale Hurston wrote in Dust Tracks on a Road. That quote is the principle that guides my writing. As much as my writing may have a self-help angle or sense to it, what I really want to impart is the human pulse of the stories. The essence of their message is that we’re all in the same boat just trying to get through this harder-than-we-could-have-ever-imagined thing called life. We need, nay, we must, share what we’ve endured as a means of catharsis and connection. I’ve often encouraged my fellow inmates to write their story. I believe everyone in prison has a novel inside of them waiting to bloom, if only they’d sit down to write it.

Corners’ stories keep unfolding, every one as poignant as the last and as we get to know each other the recitation and exchange of these stories is where the common ground begins to emerge. It is how respect and friendships are built.

My greatest fear is that my own daughter may follow in my addiction footsteps. I’ve read that young people today have the highest rates of anxiety, depression, and suicide in history. Many experts believe they are symptoms of a generation being raised during the digital revolution. As connected as the internet has the capability to make us, apparently today’s youth has never felt more alone and unheard. Stories are unfolding in them and they need to express them. I encourage my daughter to seek help, if and when she feels she needs it; to talk about her feelings. And she does. She’s putting cracks in the emotional walls that hold her hostage, so eventually the whole thing will fall. That’s what happens with enough time and pressure, even the hardest rocks will eventually turn to dust. But, the waiting and continuous effort needed to break down the walls is what is heartbreaking. But, that’s why we must continue to share all those stories we keep hidden in secret chambers of our hearts — they are what make us and what may save us all.  

November 2023

“I am not a saint, unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.” —Nelson Mandela

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

 

October 2023

“The songs of our ancestors are also the songs of our children.” —Philip Carr-Gomm

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• >>

 

September 2023

“Forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude.” —Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

July/August 2023

As a Unitarian Universalist congregation with no geographical boundary, we create global spiritual community, rooted in profound love, which cultivates wonder, imagination, and the courage to act. —Church of the Larger Fellowship Mission Statement

June 2023

Look on every exit as being an entrance somewhere else. —Tom Stoppard

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• >>

May 2023

Wonder is the beginning of wisdom. -Socrates

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

April 2023

Without leaps of imagination or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning. -Gloria Steinem

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

March 2023

The best way out is always through. -Robert Frost

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

January 2023

Nobody’s free until everybody’s free. –Fannie Lou Hamer

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• >>

November 2022

We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community. —Dorothy Day

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• >>

October 2022

“When you go in search of honey, you must expect to be stung by bees.” -Joseph Joubert

• 1
• 2
• 3
• >>

September 2022

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” -W.B. Yeats

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

June 2022

Be faithful to that which exists within yourself. –Andre Gide

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

May 2022

Where there is love there is life. –Mahatma Gandhi

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

April 2022

One lives in the hope
of becoming a memory.
–Antonio Porchia

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

March 2022

All are caught in an inescapable
network of mutuality, tied in a single
garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects
all indirectly.
–Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>

December 2021

The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery. –Anaïs Nin

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• >>