Breaking Wind

To title a blog entry with a euphemism for flatulence does not lend well to opening an account of a serious topic.

But nothing is serious. These. are. just. words. Sentences are meaningless.

In a recent meeting, a participant mentioned the subject of race as something not to be discussed by the instructor in class. Do not elaborate on potentially controversial subjects.

Race? Are you kidding? Have you looked around you? Have you stared at the sky lately? I still can't believe I'm here, writing these words, when the universe - miraculous, beautiful, infinite, mysterious, actually indescribable - surrounds us. These words add nothing to the universal wonders in and around me but I must go on...

Race is about as meaningful a word as the phrase "art museum." To separate ourselves from the universe in an artificial creation exactly equals the attempt to separate ourselves into races. There is no separation. Everything is already a work of art without making it artificial. Race is an artificial creation. I can already see that every human is unique, special, miraculous, beautiful, infinite, mysterious and yes, actually indescribable. Skin color - any and all the aspects of another human - is wonderful! Why separate one human from another by one or two general traits? We are all unique humans, joined together in our differentiation!!!

I cannot hold wind in my hand. The movement of air from a high pressure system to a low pressure system I can imagine, though. I cannot break wind. It is not a limb of a tree or a bar of chocolate.

I cannot hold art in my hand. The universe exists in total, sans artifice. Art. Artifice. Artificial. Words. Symbols. Wind. Mind. Art. Race. Art. Wind. Race. Universe. ... Words.

As I approach the end of my 47th cycle around the Sun, I realize that my day is filled in a meditative trance upon the moment, accepting the wonders of the universe as they are. Words have no place to fill as I watch the trillium in my backyard push up through maple and oak leaves. The deciduous orchid doesn't know what a football is or the difference between one human and another.

As I approach the first day of the life of an adjunct instructor, I ask myself, who am I? My synaptic connections contain patterns that reflect a life spent in conflict. My best friends in first through third grade were African-American. My girlfriend from third to fifth grade died of leukemia before her 10th birthday. My new schoolmates who moved to my neighborhood when I was in sixth grade talked about black people in derogatory terms that did not mesh with my actual experience. My wife's best friend in high school and college and after we got married is African-American. One of my best buddies in college was African-American and went with me on the only spring break trip I took - one of my novels, "Milk Chocolate," is about him. In all these cases, I did not recognize a special difference in our skin color or other body features. Different, yes. Special, no.

Yet, in the political arena, media monsters want to turn race into a divisive issue.

Do any of them know that I have suffered my whole life more because of the death of my girlfriend in fifth grade than any issue that has to do with a few genetic differences?! Of course not!!! Then you can see why I don't care if some students in my class want to bring up the topic of race. In my eyes, race is a nonissue. Talk about childhood cancer, however, and I might shed a tear unknowingly.

Every one of us is, has one person to take care of. We were born with ourselves and everything about us is unique. None of us has the exact same body as someone else, not even identical twins. So ignore the political yoyos that spin up and down trying to get your attention about classifying each other by general body types. They're just toys. The rest of us can get on with our lives, grownup in our intention to take care of ourselves and our families.

Feel free to talk about race in my class. Just don't be surprised if I don't take you seriously. I'm meditating on something much more wonderful than race - I'm glowing with happiness in the presence of a work of art - you!