I Can't Believe It's Not --

Butter. 

We all know the saying. And yet, when it comes to accountability with people who do something wrong, people will be shocked, in an uproar of denial of the wrongdoings of a man because they don't want to believe he's the one responsible for it. They want to protect their idea of peace, which in their world says, "That guy? No way. Couldn't possibly be him." I understand wanting to give the benefit of the doubt. I understand wanting to extend grace. However, the best way to love someone and care for them, is to hold them accountable to their own life. Don't allow them to override the truth of their experience.

This doesn't mean go and torture people with constant reminders about what they went through. This doesn't mean to belittle or humiliate them or judge them. What I'm talking about is communicating with a, "Hey, you're human too. If it were me, I'd have that much grief to deal with too. I support you, in that part of your journey." And not just that, but exercising the boundaries so that they cannot continue to spread lies and deceit about what they've gone through -- if it's happening on the personal level with the self, it's damn sure, it's happening with others and where they work and associate. That tendency doesn't just switch off because someone is in a different environment. The awareness (which really is microscopic to begin with) becomes more clear when a collective effort conveys to them, "Yo -- KNOCK IT OFF. That is NOT butter."

Here's a look at scripture about this: 

"His speech was smooth as butter, yet war was in his heart; his words were softer than oil, yet they were drawn swords." Psalm 55:21

The thing about it is this -- evil gets in like a needle, and spreads like a virus. While a virus is invisible to the naked eye, the symptoms that crop up tell us all that we need to know. The symptoms, in the USA, being: 

-Multiple, unrelated claims against one person/group/business related to inflicted harm, whether negligent or intentional

-A map of IP addresses in the United States that looks like stage four cancer

-Men and women given authority with a deadly weapon, but they operate on a racial bias and abuse the authority they've been given, putting their idea of "good" above the protection of human life. A uniform earned isn't a permission slip to attack others because of your own insecurities. 

-Addiction to work, sex, substance, anything that inflates your ego and keeps you hooked from being fully present, fully engaged and contributing to our world in positive, uplifting and healthily impactful ways. 

I could continue on, but I was talking about butter. 

I've worn butter yellow a couple of times in my life, it's my favorite shade of yellow. And in spending some time with myself, grieving some loss, I went to look for a particular photo from an experience that meant a lot to me. Unable to find that photo, I found two others where I was wearing butter yellow in both of them. There was a stark difference in who the girl was in each photo; how she was operating, and what her understanding of success, worth and value was. 

The first photo, 4 years old, in a yellow dress with a blue headband that I would push my ears forward with, standing in front of a table for a contest around America's favorite cookie. My older sister, best friend and I each took a turn in stacking as many Oreos as we could at the grocery store. It may as well have been my first experience building something in society, competing against others to win... Oreos for a year? For life? Not sure what the sweepstakes were about, but the photo of us showed 3 young girls proud of their effort. 

The second photo, 11 years old on April Fool's Day, 2 traumatic events into life which were never processed, and I'm holding a Terrific Kids Certificate from Kiwanis Club. I'm wearing cargo jeans, a butter yellow top, a blue stretchy choker from Claire's and a black pleather bracelet with cufflinks on it, on my right hand. The week prior I had picked at my nose too much and I had a red spot that didn't go away for months. I'm smiling, but my eyes aren't. By that age, my understanding of what work was, seemingly what I thought life was about had been manipulated, and it showed. 

Without even looking at the photos, which girl do you think was excited about life? Excited to "make butter" and build something in life? 

The one who was detached from any outcome that said, "do this and it will buy/earn you freedom". 

The one who gave it her best shot, with her tiny stature who ran out of arm-span to reach any higher. 

The one who said, "This is cool, I want to try it" not, "I have to be the most intelligent", "I have to be perfect", "I have to overcompensate because I'm not enough on my own". 

See how one way of being leads to burnout and bondage? 

Cause here's the thing about making butter: if you're overthinking it, you're doing it wrong. 

-B