My BLM Encounter in Retrospect

Who Besides Me Was Not in Their "True" Power?

Strange, strange, strange…..I had already written my “The Joy of Uber Driving - A Wild Ride to Self-Love” in which I inferred that I had attained Self Love… when it happened. Unexpectedly it came to me today while in deep meditation, the incident that occurred about 4 years ago when I was living uncomfortably and temporarily out of necessity with 5 millennials in a tree house in Mill Valley.

One of the girls was black.

When I thought about it, I wondered if I could somehow forever change the timeline and redirect the course of my life to match my self aggrandized picture of myself in my book. I remembered portions of the confrontation and invented a new reaction on my part that would exonerate me and put her in her place. Ooooooo, I’m treading on thin ice here. To most, this statement alone would prove that I am a racist.

Energetically, I can see her jumping up and down clapping her hands and saying “See I told you so, told you so you Racist!” In all candor, maybe she’s right. Of course I immediately spring to my defense with memories of 2 love affairs with black men, my role as a Nichiren Shoshu Buddhist district leader for an all black district, which turned out to be the liveliest and most successful district in the chapter, and later, my 18 year involvement with Rev. Michael Beckwith’s (mostly black) Agape church in Culver City.

Me, a racist? Hmmmm. When I think of her, I think maybe I was, because I really didn’t like her. In my memory, I can’t think of another black person that I disliked, like her. It seems she was always laying in wait for me to screw up and accidentally say something that proved I was a racist. Well, I didn’t disappoint: after helping me buy a new couch, I took her to lunch and stupidly made an off-handed comment that black people seem to particularly like BB-Q sauce.

That night, she had officially scheduled a house meeting to call me out on that statement. I felt attacked. They were all in agreement with her. I shrunk and shriveled like an overused condom and started whining like a 2 year old not understanding why this was happening to me. Being completely demoralized, I apologized to her, like someone who believes they are guilty because “she” said so. Not a very powerful place to be. But come to think of it, even though she seemed to win her case, was she in her power? Perhaps, but I believe it was a convoluted power born of self loathing which comes across as anger and hate for anyone not experiencing the same level of “sacred” victimhood. This kind of power does not bring happiness or satisfaction.

I think BLM sprung from the same dynamic. Some believe they are the true bonafide victims of the world. Their pain is so much greater than anyone else’s and they deserve to be apologized to by the whole world. They wear their victimhood like a badge of honor. And I believe they have a right to….for about 5 minutes. That’s all. (You can bet your “booty” no one at Agape nor my Buddhist friends wear a badge like that.)

Power comes from taking responsibility for your life, no matter what hand you’ve been dealt with. NO ONE, I mean NO ONE is responsible for your pain and low self esteem but you. When you own it, you can overcome it and be the powerful being that you were always meant to be.