disappointment
i've fallen into a renewed sense of disappointment in the last few weeks. for the country, for the world, for my god, for myself and my loved ones. it's not so much that i'm disappointed in them - i carefully use the word for. i'm disappointed for god. i'm disappointed for me.

i'm one of the biggest advocates i know for the separation of church and state. but at the same time, my political, social, global, whatever beliefs are inevitably infused with my faith. in fact, my faith defines these things. respect for god's creation drives me to fight for two main things: for environmental protection of this fragile earth, our island home*, and for human rights, equality, and happiness for every single person.

when i feel drowned trying to wrap my brain around why i even care - why i can't just drive a hummer and eat steak and want tax cuts - it helps to take shade under the umbrella of higher purpose.

but i worry about what happens now. i feel like we, america, have wounded our world beyond repair. we've not-so-gradually driven people to hate us. i'm so torn saying this. as much as i'm not entirely part of this "we," i'm definitely disappointed in america the way i'd be disappointed in somebody close to me. it doesn't matter that this country doesn't recognize me as one of it's own - america still owns me. i am an american, and i am responsible.

back in late 2000, i had vowed to myself to be naturalized and a shiny happy U.S. citizen by the 2004 elections. on a hot spring day in early 2003, i drove up to meet my parents to drop off my completed N-400 form. i glanced over to my right to sort of process the major change i was about to make. peeking out from beneath the paperwork on the passenger seat were the words, "the costs and consequences of american empire," from the cover of Chalmers Johnson's "Blowback." i didn't know if i should laugh or cry or say bad words. i think i did all three. i turned the car around and told my parents that we should just wait until i get married, until i change my name. the truth is that i wasn't ready to sign that oath - to check that little box that said i'd bear arms for america. that thought made me not so much angry or annoyed, but sad. you know, someday i might be okay with bearing arms, but i doubt it. someday there might be something so right and worthy to really kill people for, but i doubt it.

and that day was certainly not last march. nor is it here now.

now, when i think about whatever that higher purpose is that drives me to make a difference, i feel like a disappointment. specifically due to what has happened and what is happening in iraq, i'm worred, angered, and sad. in a word, disappointed.

* the Episcopalian Book of Common Prayer (1979) Eucharistic Prayer C (Rite II).