ROCK SOLID: The power of pause, privilege, and purpose in peace

I had no idea of my affinity for alliterations, but I think they help me anchor and focus when I have a lot of thoughts and feelings. I am rich in thoughts and feelings. In fact, if thoughts and feelings were actual currency I’d be a part of the 1% billionaire class—though, I’d gladly pay my taxes to spread my wealth of feefees.

Yesterday evening as the sun set behind the backdrop of trees, I sat on my back porch listening to the semi-distant helicopters from College Road. I read texts from a friend less than a mile away from campus:

“There’s so much flying around. Sirens and helicopters have been quiet for a few minutes but it was crazy for about 2 hours.”

I could sense her fear and anxiety. Many of us have been collecting our worry stones and pebbles from years of watching school shootings and acts of political violence as they unfold time and again. We’ve held our breath as we build these precarious towers from those stones, hoping they won’t fall with each new pebble (or act), but knowing that physics always prevails.

A lot of towers fell yesterday. Over a rock. A rock I have passed hundreds of times, sometimes with notice, mostly without. A rock thousands of students, faculty, and staff have passed countless times with more focus on literally anything else in their lives. A rock that will continue to stand for (I hope) thousands of passersby to come, who will eventually never know its inexplicable power in this moment.

But it wasn’t the rock that had the power. Though, it does stand solid in its truths and the foundation on which it sits. It is unshakable. It is us who teeter at the top of precarious pebbles.

Pause

This was rattling. The thought of potentially violent people being in a place that my husband works; where I also have taught and built community; where my friends and colleagues live most of their waking lives; and where my 2nd grader already considers she will learn one day—despite it being the home of her arch nemesis Sammy the Seahawk. (It’s a whole other story, but the point is she’s not letting her feelings about Sammy dictate her future.)

This has all been disturbing, but most especially the storm of chaos and confusion of reality.

One thing is for certain, when we do have all the details of yesterday, we as a collective community need to pause over what happened here, reflect however we must, and change how we consume and share information with each other. We need a collective shift in our mindset.

We have to assume that information on social media is circulating as part of a giant game of Telephone. Some of us play in earnest to get the message right, while others play as agents of chaos who think it’s fun or beneficial to distort the message. Then there are those who don’t even know they were ever playing to begin with.

We see the game in front of us and how the rules don’t always stand firm against manipulation and bad actors. So now we have to pause to understand how we must play, so that we do not get played.

We need to pause to understand.

Privilege

I grew up in a single-wide trailer in the rural foothills of North Carolina, and I am grateful to now have a better understanding of the privileges that upbringing did and did not afford me. I also have a better understanding of what my privileges are now versus then. And I am finally coming to understand how to use what privileges I have.

While my family did not have the privilege of fiscal abundance, the privileges my upbringing gave me were mostly rooted in time. Time in nature, time with myself, and time with generations of family who raised me—their stories and their perspectives were privileges I am only now starting to fully recognize and understand. 

Time back then seemed slow and endless, each second was a centimeter in a marathon to the moon. Time is different in the digital space. Time is now a feather in the wind that seems impossible to catch, so there’s urgency and panic setting in for fear of losing it forever. 

Pause. I have the privilege of more time than what the digital space would have me believe. I can pause. I can make myself breakfast. I can craft with my child. I can reflect on where my power and privilege is outside of this digital labyrinth of misrepresentations and falsehoods.

Now to find purpose for my privilege. 

Purpose

How I use my privilege now has to be strategic, not just for me and my own peace, but for those around me who either do not have the same privileges as I do, or don’t yet understand their own power in them.

This is tricky. Purpose feels like a moving target itself, another game. This one feels more like Duck Hunt—and that damn dog loves it when I miss. So what do I do? Well, I certainly am not moving forward with this metaphor based on a 1980s shooting game. (It’s called “reading the room” and I wish more people did it.)

Purpose is driven by what you want in this life, in this shared community of ours, and what you want out of your time with humanity. What is your purpose for your privilege of time? What do you want it to be? Is it to play the game of distorted reality? Or is it to build a better one?

Then, we have to hold ourselves accountable in earnest, and we have to hold each other accountable in good faith. We have to lead, learn, and live with and for our shared future. There’s purpose and power in that mindset if you have the privilege to commit to it.

Peace

I woke up this morning to a somber email from the same friend I texted with the evening prior. Her worry and anxiety now married with more confusion and frustration, but mostly fear and exhaustion. Our collective circle has been focused on Peace Day in the Park this Sunday at Long Leaf Park, planned months in advance, and she wanted to check in.

“Though they’re calling it a false alarm, I worry that it was a test and that there could be more violence coming. … I’m writing this to say that I am aware that I am coming from a place of fear and anxiety. My head may not be right in this moment, but I want everyone to stay safe and I would ask for your guidance here. Should we postpone? Should we ask for police presence? How would you all like to proceed? Because in this moment, I feel sick. 

Apologies for the dramatics. I just could not stand for anyone to be hurt.”

And then I saw the purpose our community has for one another in this moment as replies on this thread stood as solid as that damn rock:

"No. Just no. No, we don’t cancel. No, we don't postpone. No, we don't call the police. No, we don’t live in fear. No, we don’t stop working and singing and talking and making Peace Cranes for peace. Now, more than ever, we need peace and peaceful actions - Songs for Peace showed us that. The world needs peace. We can bring peace to Long Leaf Park for two hours."

"I refuse to be afraid. Peace in me, peace in the world."

"Last night was very scary and I am with you. The events that unfolded were very real. I don’t think ‘hoax’ or ‘false alarm’ are appropriate words. The fear was there, that was real. As a wise therapist told me, ‘feelings are feelings, they’re not right, wrong, good or bad. It’s how we handle them.’"

We need this event on Sunday.

We need to share space with each other.

We need each other.

We need to find our power of pause, privilege, and purpose in peace.