I cringe whenever I hear some politician, or some social justice warrior (SJWs), or some talking-head on television plead “We need to have a public conversation on (fill in the blank).” A conversation is not what they’re capable of having, and it’s not what they wish to engage in. They seek a platform to spout their dogma de jour and to advance some pet social agenda.
We’re living in a time when dialogue no longer has meaning or value, and where preachy sermons of self-righteous narcissists are accepted forms of discourse. The only value these voices serve is that they express the terrors and fears of the inner voices of our lesser selves and dark counselors; beyond that, don’t give weight and substance to fools. It’s hard to have a serious conversation with those who begin with the premise that you’re a racist.
When I was younger, the worst thing to be called was a “piss-pot,” or a “Pseudo-intellectual,” Wow, that really hurt! Now the worst thing is to be labeled a “racist.” But the one thing the mud-slingers of the 1950s thankfully did not ask for was a “conversation.”
Having a dialogue with yourself, especially during these turbulent and unrelenting times, is of the utmost importance, this is true. Fear and terror are everywhere and within everyone. The need for our time is to hear and responded to the panicked voices within each of us. These voices are desperate pleas coming from a deep and ancient place. These voices are calling out to be heard and acknowledged.
Each has grown so very much throughout our lives, and each of us is wonderfully elevating and becoming more. But there are those within us, those who are parts of ourselves who do not feel a part of our growing; it’s they who reach out to us during these times of chaos and collapse. They ask us not for conversations but ask instead to be heard. They’ll call us whatever names will get our attention, and will do so with the force of a pandemic, a Molotov cocktail, or a burning building.
No, don’t engage with foolish people in some one-way conversation, but engage, most definitely, with those inner voices who ask only to be heard. Let them scream and wail; let them spew their pain and hurt. Let them rant and flail about in their rage and terror. They need such release; you need such release.
No, the world is not going to “hell in a hand-basket,” and, no, you’re not a racist for thinking otherwise. But the world does need dialogue, a dialogue with itself. The world needs those with the will and courage to converse with their private and hidden fears. The world needs map-makers right now; those who will engage in dialogue, not a dogmatic conversation, with those who truly matter, themselves.
But, I must admit, I never really recovered from that “piss-pot” thing. Can we have a conversation about it?