I imagine that you, like me, are sitting on the edge of your seat as we anticipate election day. So much is hanging in the balance—and, no matter what transpires—a lot of people are bound to be unhappy, and many actually scared.
I do my best to be open to a range of views. I listen to conservatives and progressives alike. The anthropologist in me is compelled to understand—as best I can—the many ways human beings interpret, name and act in their world.
And even with that training, it’s so hard not to get triggered! Especially now, when it begins to feel personal. When it feels like, no matter what I do or say, in the eyes of some I cannot be redeemed.
About a week ago a post came through my Facebook feed that I’ve been reflecting on. It described a role that many Native American peoples honor in their communities, especially during trying times: the role of “Faithkeeper.” No matter the circumstances, no matter what the community might be enduring, this particular person is charged with the responsibility of keeping a peaceful calm.
I quote: “Under extreme conditions, if every single tribe member stumbles into fear, doubt, anxiety, worry and pain—the Faithkeeper maintains peace, spirituality and understanding.”
By doing this, the Faithkeeper preserves the vital connection between humans and the “I AM” Presence—Divine Source—for the entire community.
This is who I want to be.
A Faithkeeper.
In these days of posturing, pettiness, pressuring, finger-pointing and power-grabbing in the midst of deeper truth-seeking and reconciliation, it is a profound spiritual practice to keep the faith.
It is an opportunity to be a servant leader in the greatest sense. To hold and advocate for a bigger dream of ourselves and humanity. Especially, on the eve of elections, our American humanity.
To be a Faithkeeper, I need to lead myself. I need to engage my own shadow, my fear, my false righteousness, my despair. I need to be an accountable adult, and behave accordingly. I need forbearance. And, above all, compassion.
Imagine what it must have been like—and is still like—for the indigenous Faithkeepers of this land. Surely, if they could and can manage it, so can we! And we must!
How will you lead yourself this month of November? How will you keep the faith?
Yours on the Journey,
Martha