“With whom do you
believe your lot is cast?”
~ Adrienne Cecile
Rich, May 16, 1929 – March 27, 2012
When
I was an undergraduate, I wrote my senior thesis on Adrienne Rich. Back in
those days very few people had computers and very few of those had internet.
So, I went to the library and read books for my research. With little
expectation of reply, and on the advisement of the head of my department, I
also wrote Adrienne Rich a letter. On paper, with a pen, that I mailed, in an
envelope with a stamp. I explained
how much I loved her work, that I was writing a research thesis and I asked her
a few questions. She replied. She answered my questions, was intrigued by my
thesis and agreed to correspond during the semester to help with my research. In all, I received six letters from
Adrienne Rich. I cherished them all, but the final one was a trophy. I sent her
a copy of the finished paper and she sent me back a rave review including the
statement that was really the jewel in the crown….”I have rarely read an analysis
of my own work that prompted me to look at my motives or techniques in a new
way. Everything you wrote was true, it is all there. The beauty of great art is
what you can find in it with the right set of eyes.” Now, I’m not an idiot; I know as a teacher myself that she
was trying to be encouraging to a young writer, but that really didn’t diminish
it for me in any way.
“With
whom do you believe your lot is cast?” became my personal koan. When Adrienne
Rich asks this question, answering it implies that I am in fact of a kind.
Throughout my twenties, there were plenty of days that the belief I was of a
kind was really all I needed. Knowing that I was not without peers…somewhere,
even if I hadn’t met them all. Sure there are still questions. Does my kind leave
or stay, fear or triumph, love, change, believe? The certainty was only that there
were others like me and that we are named together. I set about finding those
answers. I found quickly that
people were eager to “help” me define/marginalize myself.
“You graduated Summa Cum Laude? So you’re one of those
brainiacs.”
“You’re a vegetarian? So you’re one of those grass eaters?”
“You’re a research educator for Environmental groups? So
you’re one of those tree huggers?”
“You’re a feminist? So you hate men?”
“You’re an artist? So you’re crazy?”
It
is quite strange really how even when we hear these societal labels and know
that they are inaccurate; we are still curiously intrigued by the groups that
embrace these epithets. In a kind
of no-I’m-not-a-dirty-hippie-but-I-would-still-rather-hang-out-with-them-than-YOU way. So I spent a decade or so
exploring all these things that society told me I was. It went okay.
On this circumvented path I did in fact meet many of my true kind. People who I
love and cherish to this day. My tribe. Not necessarily the people I was born
closest to, but those I was destined to know. Then somewhere in my thirties I
quit searching and started rooting. Or as my mom explained it to me, “Somewhere
in your thirties you get to stop apologizing to everyone for who you are,
because I guess they figure out that you have been this way for this long it’s
probably not a phase.”
Rooting
for me was literal and figurative. I actually set about putting things with
roots into the ground and I began to look for ways to make the lives closest to
me better. I did less to work on national issues and more to work on local
issues. I realized at some point that anywhere you were, there are likely to be
problems. You can complain, leave or start working to fix things. I work hard
within my family and my community to live simply and sustainably, but many days
I still feel like those of us who care about the health of the planet, the
beings on our planet and our fragile ecosystem on the planet are fighting insurmountable
forces of destruction. If we continue playing by the rules of the existing
paradigm we will fail, exhausted by quenching the fires and solving the
problems other people have started.
A
good novel or a good koan is something you revisit at various stages in your
life. Rich herself revisited this line in some of her later poems. Different
seasons in life generate different responses to the line. I am 44 now and only
recently I am drawn to recognize an optimism in the statement that is inherent,
basic, and yet I overlooked it in the past. “With whom do you believe your lot is cast?” My belief. My choice. My destiny to
shape and form as I see fit. Okay, okay, my lot is cast, but I decide with
whom!! On a really optimistic day,
maybe I even decide the parameters and boundaries that shape everything about
my existence.
For
example, do I want to continue to live in a world that doesn’t even have a
vocabulary word for the concept of living non-violently? Do I instead want to give away all the
power of my personal intentions and just use a phrase that makes me utter into
existence that exact opposite of my intentions every time I say it? Come
on…”non-violence” is close enough, right? It is okay if we accept a world that
can’t even define our dreams, let alone envision them as reality…right? No. It
is not right and it is not okay. I decide with whom my lot is cast and we will
name ourselves.
This
word is going global… Benevism! Benevism (benivzm), [noun, from OE. b‹oeacu›n, bén, cogn. with ON.
bón, bœn (Sw., Da. bön):—OTeut. *bôni-z; perh. from root ba- ‘cry’]. Def: doing
good works, acting in a manner that benefits and promotes the health and well
being of others, blessed action.
So… creating the world we want instead of having our energy
taken from us combating the world we don't want. Focusing thoughts and actions
toward doing good for others, for the planet and for future generations.
Adrienne, I believe my lot is cast with Benevists… and I am not a tribe of one.
http://www.storyofstuff.org/movies-all/story-of-change/
