I recognize that the minute the word energy enters a conversation, visceral reactions will rise: images of granola-eating-gurus, feelings of heebie jeebies, and slippery concepts like “consciousness” and “law of attraction” and “universe.”
I used to be that person.
Maybe I still I am that person.
But…as I find myself changing the way I view myself and the world around me and the God above (?) me, I cannot help but come back to that word: energy.
I have always believed in the power of language, but that confidence is grounded in the inadequacies of language to fully capture that which matters. When I say I love Dave, that word doesn’t capture the beautiful complexity inherent in our 14 years of marriage. When I used the term Daddy, that did not fully capture all my dad was as a man, husband, and father. And this disconnect between term and essence is all over our current headlines: how can tiny little pronouns like he or she really capture all that is in a full person?
And how much more so with God. How can God be bound by gender? How can God be bound by place? How can God be bound by belief? How can God be neatly wrapped up in letters and bow-tied with punctuation?
He can’t. She can’t. It can’t. I Am can’t.
I Am won’t.
And this is why I come back to energy. In science I learn it. In yoga I feel it. I life I live it.
God is the Epicenter and Origin and Destination of Energy.
And this profound thought intensifies with the knowledge that I am created likewise. There is a weight to what energy I put into the world. There is gravity to what energy we put into the world.
Which brings me to Orlando.
Reflected in the mirrored pieces of our shattered humanity, I recognize that Orlando did not occur because of guns or ISIS or insanity.
Rather the energy of hate compounded into senseless tragedy. At Pulse nightclub, it was catastrophic. 49 lives lost on the bloody altar of hate. Ripples of mourning and loss and sorrow extend infinitely beyond that number.
But the energy of hate that led to that wasn’t singular. The hate between political parties. The hate among forms of Christianity. The hate between genders. The hate among sexual preferences. From gun owners to gun shunners, Southern “bless their hearts” to pulpit declarations of “for the Lord.”
Body-shaming. Mother-shaming. Zoo-shaming. Teacher-shaming. Sex-shaming.
Hate is rampant in our culture. And the worst part of it is that so many of us are self-justified in our hate.
I think about the little seeds of hate in my heart:
- Lack of grace and patience for people not like me.
- Bitterness and anger against those that have hurt me this year.
- The refusal to boldly declare “I forgive you” to Dave’s apologies.
- My acute anti-Trump, anti-Republican position.
- My snap judgments of people, criticisms drenched in arrogance.
- Internal eye-rolling at parents who let their kids out of their sight or annoying tourists on their phones.
Would I ever take a gun into a nightclub and decimate lives worthy of love?
But aren’t my little seeds of hate invisible bullets of energy that slowly corrode peace?
When I heard about Orlando, we were enjoying all the sunny delights of Cancun. But even there, I could not stop thinking about the short book of 1 John:
Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. Whoever loves his brother abides in the light…Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer…love is from God…God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him…If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen…
Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer.
Not literally. At least not for everyone. But hate is an energy that threatens life and light and peace and hope and unity.
Hate turns “my brother” into “the other.” And living in a world of “the other” frees up warrant to hurt with weapons of mass destruction: energy. And as with the law of inertia, once energy is moving towards negativity, it will continue to do so.
Right into a nightclub of innocent victims.
And so I come back to this idea of making peace, not just praying for peace. What I do in the privacy of my own heart and home affects not only those nearest to me, but also the world. With what energy am I engaging? How do I close down my own mind’s gun shop, stacked with invisible bullets of hate?
Hate stops with me and my energy adjustments.
Love starts with me and my energy contributions.
Can you imagine a world full of individuals who did not just tweet condolences, but changed mindsets? A world bound by conversation instead of criticism? A world networked by threads of questions rather than accusations? A world rooted in common ground rather than straddling fault lines? A world of “and” instead of “versus”?
Hate stops with you and your energy adjustments.
Love starts with you and your energy contributions.