I’m writing this on the day set aside to honor those who died in the armed service of our country. More recently, it is the day that for many of us, despite the actual calendar date, commemorate the beginning of summer. We light up the BBQ, pull out the clubs, rackets, bats and bathing suits. We can wear our white shoes again.
Like most holidays in our culture, the day’s original sentiment has become clouded by temporal concerns. The idea that we delineate a time to have fun and connect to friends and family is not a bad thing. But it seems we might do well to remember those on whose shoulders we stand. We can remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice, but perhaps this can also be a day to remember the family members or friends who have left us. We can remember those who helped guide society, such as Dr. King. We can remember the people of color killed by police, or the many others senselessly killed by hatred, anger or greed because of the color of their skin or the affections of their heart. And while these deaths have served to create some change, we might also remember those who have died in vain because despite the shouting and regardless of the tears, in some cases, little has changed. In fact, gun violence is actually on the rise. Death by gun fire has become the leading killer of children in America. Read that again.
That is a new definition of insanity.
While we remember those who fought and died to protect America from violence abroad, we might also remember Americans who were victims of violence here at home. Memorials erected to soldiers and those who died in battle remind us of their sacrifice. But what of the unwilling sacrifices of those who died simply because they live in the most violent country on earth that is not in an actual war. Read that again. Slowly. Perhaps today, we can remember those whose passing has urged us to consider changes to our life and society. Perhaps today we can make a commitment to keep praying that our world will become a more compassionate home to all of us. And if our nation is indeed the greatest on earth, then we might take our place as a leader, guiding the world toward the tolerance and understanding that our forebears proclaimed. And if we are truly brave, we can do this whether or not anyone follows.
With regard to memorials, I love the Tibetan Buddhist approach of honoring the transient nature of things, such as with sand mandalas, which are elaborate portrayals of colored sand that take days to construct only to be scattered in a matter of moments at the conclusion of the ceremony. This explains the Buddhist reverence for change, and non-ego. No one tears down a sand mandala. Similarly, Tibetan prayer flags, which are inscribed with prayers of compassion that are thought to traverse the earth as they are buoyed by the wind. The picture for this post is of prayer flags hanging off my friend Jen Parde’s deck. I took this picture after the traumatic passing of her cat Huxley. I was sitting on a chair a bit shell shocked and noticed the flags were moving gently in the wind. This moment will likely stay in my heart for a long while.
So, yes, let’s enjoy the burgers, the hot dogs, the ears of corn. Celebrate friends and family. But know that all this comes at a cost. And perhaps each of us can bow our heads a moment for the ordinary heroes, whether soldiers slain in battle or people slain for the color of their skin, those murdered because of their sexual orientation or children killed by gun violence. Perhaps we can dedicate their passing to the belief in a future where these things will no longer occur.