Rise Above It . . .Dedicated to my Daughter

One of my blog followers shared in the comments a certain motto that he tries to live by. That got me thinking about mottos . . .

When my daughter was a young'un, she came to me and said: "Miss Deer says I have to ask what is our family motto?" Motto? Family motto? This felt like a serious question from one so young and vulnerable and trusting. It was a moment to take stock. The answer was not on the tip of my tongue. I had never thought about having a motto before she posed that question. I told my eight-year-old, I would think about it and let her know before her next Sunday School class. For a week I pondered it deeply, while at the sink, or in the garden, or driving from one kids' activity to another. Do I have a motto that I try to live by? I asked myself.

I knew what I believed in, what I trusted, what I counted on. Most of this was all wrapped up in what some people call faith. I had spent a long time sorting through my faith in my adult life. At some point I came to terms with the beliefs that made sense to me and let go of what I could no longer accept and what I did not need. This seemed to serve me well. I tried to impart some of it at home. But, this was not at all what my daughter was interested in when she asked: "What is our family motto?" This question gave me pause.

Our little family was not in that place in society where one might have a family crest, or family monogram, or even a family plaque at the front door that said "welcome to the home of ..."

We were living the way most middle class families in our neighborhood lived. We attended church regularly; I sang in the choir while my daughter attended religious education separate from the adult congretation. Her school days were like most, lots of classroom time interspersed with gym, and a growing number of field trips with each new year. I had been asked when she was a kindergartener to go on field trips to help my daughter to "stay with the group." By the time she was heading for junior high, she balked: "Can't you give somebody else a turn?" "Gladly," I thought. Yet, she had had to ask . . .

I wondered if a family motto, or any motto would help me to see when I was not needed? I wondered if a motto would help me to be a better parent? I wondered if my daughter needed a motto to live by? I wondered how a family motto mattered? How would having a family motto make a difference?

What is a motto? According to the online Oxford Dictionary, a motto is a short sentence or phrase chosen as encapsulating the beliefs or ideals guiding an individual, family, or institution. This definition specifies family! Apparently some families do have a motto. The definition also says it may be an ideal that guides such a family. An ideal, seemed more realistic to me, so to speak. An ideal is something to live up to. I have sometimes been called out for being an idealist. Mostly, by my now grown daughter! Thinking about an ideal as a motto for my little family to live up to, rather than by, helped me to think about that burning question that I knew I had to answer sincerely. Two and half decades later it's hard to recall how the "right" answer came to me when I finally spoke the words for the first time as OUR motto worthy of my daughter's question. After much soul searching, it had come out of the blue, as all the best ideas seem to. I recall distinctly saying to her in the car that Sunday morning that our family motto was to be: Rise above it. She accepted it without question, relieved to have her answer ready when the teacher asked. That was just the beginning . . . Rise above it, was not as simple as it sounded. Living a motto is not that easy, it turns out.

Back then, life was going on at a somewhat frenzied pace: work, school, church, sports, pets,friends, boyfriends, etc. Within these various worlds were numerous unexpected events: friends fighting; boyfriends leaving; pets dying; parents' divorcing. Each phase felt overwhelming in the moment causing us to dig deep to figure out how to proceed. Inevitably, the words would be spoken: Rise above it. Each time when it seemed to help, I realized just how important having a motto had become for my daughter, and for me. By senior year of high school, it had become a mantra as much as a motto. I had those words Rise Above It inscribed inside her high school ring.

That question my daughter posed turned out to be the right one at the right time. After she was grown and gone to college, I found myself in the role of Sunday School teacher. I made it a point to have the children ask their parents: "What is our family motto?" One of the mothers came to me to ask: What is your family motto?" This time I knew the answer.

Crossing Lines: Truth be Told

The lines aren’t malleable until we decide they are. Deciding is all it takes for long standing institutions built on principle to begin to crumble; be it the church, the school, the government. All are susceptible if and when the lines that define them are manipulated by an individual or a group.

These leylines* on which each was founded, at times have been obscured by winds of change, yet they have emerged intact after the storm. When, however, these lines lose themselves under the pressures of “the times,” all else that once was built on certitude is lost. Without certitude anything goes -- or everything goes -- ethics, morality, common sense, and above all, Truth with a capital “T.” Without Truth, where are we? Back in the dark ages; not medieval days where much certitude was placed ahead of human rights and lives, but all the way back to prehistoric times with the most rudimentary existence for all living creatures. Is that what we want? Truly?

I’ll not take to my “high horse” to fight this fight. I have fallen from there too many times to no avail. Several failed attempts over a lifetime of trying stand out in hindsight. How many, very many innocent trees have been felled by my failure to prevail on their behalf? How many womens’ lives, including my own, have been detrimentally impeded by man-made rules of law, despite my protest signs held high? Or what of my impotence before unholy men of the cloth standing between women and their God given gifts buried beneath oppressive edicts in spite of boycotting their “services.”

No, I will not carry yet again banners held high at this age of seventy while vile and vicious vitriol is spewed in the faces of those of us who try as we might to hold the line that matters for us all. The work of speaking out and up belongs to those with so much more at stake than whatever remains of my days.

These younger iterations of those who have come before owe it to themselves to reclaim the Truth with a capital “T.” Do they know the Truth? Was it visible to them as they came of age the way it was during different times before they became aware? Speaking Truth on a regular basis helps to preserve it for everyone and for ourselves. A world without Truth is a pliable existence.

Today we say we believe in these “unalienable rights” while tomorrow we abandon them for our own purposes. Allowing the foundations that were meant to last to be weakened is like watching the constant ebb and flow of the tide eroding the very place beneath our feet. We know that we are no longer standing on solid ground. Each of the major modern institutions that were brick and mortar and by definition, concrete, have been eroding to the point of totally washing away. That is the Truth of the world in which we live. What are we to do? What will we do?

*geographical lines that crisscross all over the globe. Similar to latitudinal and longitudinal lines, ley lines seem to provide a structure or system for many monuments and natural landforms. Further, they supposedly carry with them rivers of “supernatural energy”.

It takes away more than you think.

It is almost too embarrassing to discuss in public. There is no explanation for it. Nobody asked for it. Fear is behind it. It is one step. Dictators do it. It is the difference between freedom and oppression. It hurts everyone. It is not done against any one group. It hurts everyone. It is regressive. It hurts everyone. It is a move toward unfreedom. It hurts everyone. It is cause for alarm. It hurts everyone. It is control. It is power. It is unreasonable. It is hatred. It hurts everyone. It is disrespectful. It is wrong. It hurts everyone. It takes away more than you think.

What is it?

Book banning in the United States of America, the land of the free, in the year 2023! Civilizations thrive by growing citizens who learn from the stories of others. Books tell stories. Books bring us into others' stories. Books open worlds. Books are for everyone. Books allow ideas between the covers. Books speak truth. Books shape lives. Books are companions. Books are free to all. Books take us places. Books make us laugh. Books make us cry. Books make us think. Book are our friends. Books set us free from oppressors. Books make us better citizens, locally and globally. Books are benign. (Look it up!) Books are not the enemy of the people. The enemy is hiding under the covers. It has happened before . . .

In the Fourteenth century in the village of Norwich, England, so-called heretics, known as the Lollards, were burned at the stake and dumped in the Wensum River for having of all things, the Bible translated into English. They wanted to read those words written about the life of Jesus. They sacrificed their own lives to read the "Good News." The "Good News" was in a book that powerful church wanted to oppress. It didn't work. Today, in 2023, A.D., Norwich is a UNESCO City of Literature where reading is fully celebrated. Books are on the streets so that everyone who walks along, young, old, white, black, poor, rich, is invited to sit and read. They are proud of their stories. They want people to know their own history. They are not embarrassed to show their best sellers in public. https://www.visitnorwich.co.uk/book-benches/

When will we the people learn? Please share your thoughts.