WHY TRY

A while ago I posted "WHY OCCUPY"  as a guest entry in my other blog,The Buddha Diaries by a singer-songwriter friend, Azalia Snail.  Here's a follow-up that belongs, I think, in Vote Obama 2012.  It expresses a younger view than my own, and I'm grateful to have that perspective:

WHY TRY? 

by Azalia Snail  

I was born without a blessing or a curse. 

 I wrote that line many years ago when I was going to start writing my autobiography at the tender age of, oh, say 19.  I only wrote a few pages, suddenly realizing I needed to live my life first before I wrote about it.  Decent realization, wasn't it?   

  I've lived some years now, and I know exactly why I wanted to start my autobio with that line.  My parents raised me to choose my own beliefs, be very independent, and speak freely about those beliefs.  So here goes, Part 2 of "Why Occupy" updated here and now re-titled "Why Try."

  Some months back I wrote on The Buddha Diaries about why I was excited by the Occupy movement.  It was inspiring to see people finally want to rise above the miasma that is our current state of government affairs.  Some very devoted (very brave) people decided enough was enough (too much, really) and parked their bodies and a few belongings in a pretty little park at the South end of Manhattan, where the richyrich do a lot of their business, the bankers plot their crusty, untrusty moves, and where the profiteers buy expensive views overlooking the peons that are merely pawns in their game.

  I was thrilled to see the movement start up in Los Angeles.  I posted a lot of photos on Facebook, sharing my vital if limited adventures down to Los Angeles' City Hall to discover exactly what was going on with the local Occupiers i.e., the 99%'ers.  I felt very strong, defiant, and proud of my fellow Americans for taking a stance on what they believe, TRYING to make a difference in a very apathetic city and--dare I say--an apathetic generation.  I don't blame the kids of today.  It's so tempting to simply ignore the BS, text about trivial matters, and concentrate on the "me" factor.  After all, it gets tougher every year to "make it" unless you are born into a financially gifted family.  That, of course, has its own set of weary consequences.  I know some trust funders who are spiritually searching, having never had to fight for their right to, ahem, party--whether that be a blessing or a curse unto itself.  But that's a whole other can of gold nuggets to open and explore. Few "friends" commented on my posts.  Some of them even dropped me.  I assume that they assumed that I became some sort of radical revolutionary, and they didn't want to be bothered!  Just show me what you had for dinner last night, a nice sunset, or some cuddly animals playing. Never mind the uprising!  Save that for nostalgia re: the 60s, a war torn country, or the hardcore political wannabes.

Change, a willingness to talk about change, and the hope that change may come, is never easy to talk about. It takes a big heartfelt gulp of courage, a punkrockfuckyou attitude, and the willingness to lose a helluva lotta Facebook friends.

And even though my latest music project is called LoveyDove, whereby my guy Dan West and I are steadfastly spreading a melodic dose of L-O-V-E, I still remain adamant that I will do what I can to call out the Akins, the Ryan/Romneys, and many of the conservative Republican practitioners, they know who they are.  And though you are welcome to read my page and react for or against my beliefs, just please don't ignore me. I want to see you rise above, too, to help me and all of us try to make sense of a disparaging, hateful "backward bully" mentality.   And then call it out, protest it, prevent it from ruining future believers of freedom and fairness.

I was raised to speak my mind, and it took me a long time to have the gusto and the gumption to rage against the bullies, so here I go.  It feels so fine, it feels so free. I urge all of you to do the same.  

And here is a link to a recent song by Azalia Snail called Backward Bully (You Call That A Prayer?).