A few weeks ago someone I have to interact with on a regular basis in a group setting was incredibly rude to me. (If you’re worried I’m talking about you, don’t be. If you’re that concerned, you wouldn’t do such a thing. Or you would already have apologized. Trust me.) The person was so rude, in fact, that (now I’m going to go ungrammatical and use “they” to disguise the person’s gender) they were verbally abusive. In an aggressive tone, they questioned my integrity.

I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to say. I had merely been trying to explain something and evidently hit a nerve. I did apologize for causing any confusion to the rest of the group, then dropped the subject about which the person and I were disagreeing (my POV) or I was dishonest about (their POV) so the rest of the interaction could continue.

Here’s the thing. Even if my honesty needs to be questioned, the way to do it isn’t to accost me in aggressively like that. Better still is to speak to the facts, not about the character of the person speaking!

Long ago I learned that the first response when my own bile rises is to ask for more information, because it’s very likely there has been a miscommunication or other misunderstanding. Now, this person did ask a question, and because there were other people present and I didn’t want to get into a thing in front of them, I didn’t answer clearly. That was my part in the exchange. I should have said, “I can answer your question, but now’s not the time.”

But still, you can’t talk to me that way.

What to do? I’ve been praying for guidance. I can’t help but think that if they talk to me this way, they must do likewise with others. I am harboring a resentment toward this person, who accused me of dishonesty. For my mental health, I can’t do that. Bear grudges, I mean. So what is my responsibility here? Forgiveness is great, but so is sticking up for yourself, as long as you do it respectfully.

Rosalind Wiseman, a friend and colleague who’s a nationally-known anti-bullying expert, has been in the forefront of bystander education, meaning when bullies do their thing, the ones on the sidelines have a responsibility to step in. Similarly, it seems to me, if you’ve been bullied by someone who is in a position to do the same to others, aren’t you obligated to speak up if you’re able?

I think so. I can’t change the other person, but I can clear the air from my end, and I can step up to speak the truth as I see it, speaking to the other person’s behavior—as Rosalind would tell me, to tell him what bothered me, and what I need to change in our relationship.

I ask for your prayers and support as I ask my higher power’s guidance regarding when and how to speak to the person.

My heart leaps up!

When money is tight, like it is now because I was laid off from my job last June, I sometimes get to whining. And sometimes the refrain is, “I waaaant to beeee a princessss!!!” As in, living happily ever after with no problems, discomforts, obstacles, demands, responsibilities or struggles. Ever.

Mind you, my adult responsible cerebral cortex totally gets it that a) this sort of perfect life is not even remotely possible and b) such a life wouldn’t be rewarding, satisfying, stimulating, growth-inducing, etc.

But my take-care-of-me-now!!!! little inner child, well, she craves rescue and perfect peace. Enter my favorite new meditation guide (whose name and whose book I cannot remember or find; I’ll post in an update; it is so typical of my gremlins to steal this info just when I want it but I decided, full speed ahead! UPDATE: The book is Awake Mind, Open Heart by Cynthia Kneen ). Her prescription: when you sit to meditate, assume the physical posture of a monarch, because you are the queen of your own life! Don’t you love it? And of course you must also assume the mental, emotional and spiritual posture of a king or queen—because you have within you the sun, the moon, the stars. You have all creation, your beautiful, wonderful goodness, all right there. (UPDATE: Kneen says, “Your approach is that you are a dignified person. You are sane, regal, and worthwhile as you are, and it is fully natural for you just to sit and be with an open heart…You are claiming your authority…You are in command of your life. This doesn’t mean you are being fierce or stoic, or trying very hard…You are just…being yourself. You are simply making a statement of strength.”

So when I sit—and when I move through all the tasks of my day, no matter how grand or mundane—I do so as the monarch of my own life.

Crown me, Queen Gay! Long live the queen! Joy, peace and prosperity to all you queens and kings, too!!!!!

I don’t know why it should be so, but it seems that out of great sadness can come revelations of great love. Last night I was honored to attend a memorial service for Trayvon Martin, the black teenager recently shot to death in Florida.The memorial was organized by a wonderful young man, Darnell Lewis, founder of I.M.P.A.C.T, whose mission it is to “equip our youth with the necessary tools to navigate through the middle school, high school and college years.”

It was a one-hour event in a park in Red Bank, New Jersey. We all wore hoodies like Trayvon was wearing when he died. Pastors led over 100 of us in prayer as we held hands. Several of Darnell’s young gentlemen and young ladies read short statements that started, “I am Trayvon Martin.” Then we stood in silence, honoring Trayvon, his family, and all the young black men and women so ill-served by so many of our social systems and institutions.

I was there as a mama, and the mama of sons. I was there as a citizen who cannot and will not rest easy until everyone has the same beautiful safety and abundance that I have and is everyone’s birthright.

I was also there as a woman who came of age in the 1960’s, who watched the civil rights movement unfold on television, who deeply regrets there is still so much of that work yet to do, but who refuses to despair.

There’s a wonderful expression, “Don’t let the little you can do stop you from doing the little you can do.” One of my little bits was to attend last night’s service. I went in solidarity with those who are fighting injustice. I came away with so much more than I brought.There was so much love in that little park, the air was vibrating with it. And it was powerful beyond measure.

From where I stand, that’s the way peace works. Peace is not just a condition or a place. It’s an action. “There is no way to peace,” the expression goes. “Peace is the way.” Amen.