Dare boldly

A blog by Louise Gallagher

when all the noise is silenced

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What in your life is calling you?
When all the noise is silenced,
the meetings adjourned,
the lists laid aside,
and the wild iris blooms by itself
in the dark forest,
what still pulls on your soul?

In the silence between your heartbeats
hides a summons.
Do you hear it?
Name it, if you must,
or leave it forever nameless,
but why pretend it is not there?

— The Terma Collective, “The Box: Remembering the Gift”

I have spent much of my life playing it safe. I don’t like to make waves, to address conflict, to upset apple carts.

And, in my playing it safe, I have spent an inordinate amount of time rubbing up against the dissonance of my decisions, the disparity of standing upright when upside down is calling me to jettison my life-preserver and dive into the deep-end untethered by the status quo.

Yesterday, I sat on the deck, wrapped up in a blanket, my iPad on my lap and indulged in an hour of TED talks. The morning sun was hidden behind a layer of clouds, the air was cool and fresh. C.C. slept in the bedroom, Marley, the Great Cat, sprawled out at his feet while Ellie, the Wonder Pooch, ever hopeful I would rub her ears or drop her a treat, lay beside me watching for marauding squirrels to chase after.

One of the talks I listened to was Margaret Heffernan’s “The Dangers of ‘Wilful Blindness’“.

Willful blindness, explains Heffernan is a legal concept that states that if there is information you could and/or should know, but somehow you somehow manage not to know, the law deems that you are willfully blind.  It happens on epic portions, the execution of Hitler’s ‘final solution’ is one example as is the Enron scandal. But it also happens on smaller scales, every day. In numerous research projects to determine if there are issues in corporations that people are afraid to raise, Heffernan and other researchers discovered that 85% of employees feel there are issues they should speak up against but stay silent because of fear, despair, a belief nothing will change, fear of retaliation, or simply because they don’t trust anyone enough to tell the truth,

“Freedom doesn’t exist if you don’t use it,” says Heffernan.

She’s right.

Recently, a brilliant woman I know, Karen GB, told me how she once warned a woman who was mistreating her small child in a grocery story that if she didn’t stop, she would call Social Services. The woman told her to get lost, (in not so nice language) and Karen didn’t back down. “I’m a social worker,” she said. “I know who to call.”

Normally, if Karen happens upon a parent whose child is acting out in a store, she’ll offer a smile and  words of encouragement, but in this case, the woman was being so abusive Karen felt she had to intervene. She could not stay silent. She could not feign blindness.

Several years ago, while walking along a street in the east end of downtown, I came across a group of people sitting on a grassy verge. As I approached I noticed one of the men jump up and start to yell and scream at another. He grabbed the man on the ground’s backpack, tore it open and started to empty the contents onto the grass. The group looked on in lazy indolence, not moving an inch while the one man screamed at the other and started to poke at him with one foot.

I was frightened. Both for the man being taunted and myself. I was a block from the shelter where I used to work and there was no one else around. The area is rife with dealers preying upon the vulnerable and this definitely looked like a drug-related shakedown.

I took a breath and kept walking closer. At one point, the man standing up punched the guy on the ground in the head. And then he hit him again.

I yelled. “Hey!”

Everyone ignored me.

I yelled again.

Still they ignored me.

I didn’t know what to do.

I had no desire to confront the man who was becoming more and more violent, but I did need to stop his abuse.

Just then, I spied a police car driving down a side-street. I ran around the corner, flagged the police officer down and told him what was happening. He promised to check into it after telling me to keep walking away.

So I did.

Walk away.

Now, I know walking away was the safest and smartest thing to do, but I can still see that tableau, several years later, in my mind’s eye.

The disparity of their positions rubs against my peace of mind. The raw casual violence of the one man beating up another who did not, or simply could not, or knew better than, to fight back. The disregard and/or acceptance/resignation of the others of the situation, of their situation.

And here’s the challenge.

I want to stop it. I want to stop such violence in our world. I want to spread sunshine, not discord. I want to teach people how to get along, how to find their dreams, how to stand up, not just for themselves but for love and dignity and respect and honour.

I want to teach people how to hear that sill quiet voice within and recognize it as their soul calling them to stand up, speak up, be heard and express their freedom in Love.

And I want to say to that man on the grassy verge, to all of that group, “You matter and what you do matters.” And when we beat up one another, when we silently watch another being abused. We are all being beaten into silence. We are all being abused.

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Author: Louise Gallagher

I believe we each have the capacity to be the change we want to see in the world, to make a world of difference. I believe we are creative beings on the journey of our lifetimes. It's up to each of us to Live It Up and SHINE!

12 thoughts on “when all the noise is silenced

  1. LG,

    Nice story, but I take issue with your premise.

    You write: “I don’t like to make waves, to address conflict, to upset apple carts”

    Since I’ve known you, I’ve seen you do little else.

    You don’t confront combatants in a street fight (most of us are wise not to do that), but you confront other combatants in other arenas, you put uncomfortable things in people’s faces and confront them on their failure to confront those issues, you upset their apple-carts every time you do that and you are like the ebb-flow of tides in an ocean. You don’t go away, you race to the shore, retreat and come back once more, again and again and again.

    That’s relentless advocacy. That’s never ever ever giving up.

    You do lots of that in two ways – in how you do it, and in how you display it. When you display it, you show others how to do it.

    You make waves and you empowere others to make waves – and lookout apple-carts, here comes Louise, as relentless as ocean waves pounding the beach, and pounding the rocks, wearing things down a little bit at a time.

    As for wilful blindness, I think there is great value in the light you shine, and where you shine it.

    The bonus you might often forget about it, is that those you show this to go about their own work, shining lights and upsetting apple carts. Those actions don’t stop street fights anymore than you did that day. Which is not to sell you or others short – because the key is to shine the light, not to break up the fight.

    My two cents,

    Mark

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    • Mark — thank you! I love your words, they are singing to my heart. And yes, I should have clarified — I used to — until I woke up and realized, I must shine. It is my birthright — and in my shining, I desire to inspire others to shine.

      Thank you for shining with me! Thank you for your words. Thank you for your friendship. Hugs

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    • Mark, you said exactly what I wanted to say to Louise, and you said it so well, I will say no more.

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  2. Love this post and specifically the poem. It really encourages me as I, with a mixture of fear and excitement, work out what I want to do moving forward

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  3. This Mark agrees with the other Mark … you’re a shit disturber par excellence. So, what is it you are really saying in your post? I don’t know for sure. Are you happy with what you can do or do you have aspirations to do more (dangerous just like going in to referee a street fight) or are you thinking you should be able to do more? And sometimes it is just plain arrogant to go and tell someone to behave in a way we would prefer. It’s like giving a guy on the street corner $2 and telling him to go and have a shave. Just give him/ her the money and be glad you have enough to give. Social workers aren’t supposed to go around and police parents in shopping malls. I would tell that do-gooder to mind her own business in no uncertain terms for sure. I’ve jumped into a fight once to defend a street person, but beyond stopping the shit kicking he was getting I had no interest in either party. Makes me smile of another time I helped out a woman: who was getting a beating from a dissatisfied customer: later on I was required to appear in court as a witness in a case against her. Ah well, so it goes like Kurt Vonnegut said.

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    • Tee hee — Mark — I was a little obtuse in my meaning — you are so astute! I was working on that ‘purpose’ aspect of my life. That ‘here’s my dream of what I want to do’ — and here’s me doing it! I so appreciate you and Mark speaking up — and I like that you see me as a shit disturber par excellence! 🙂 What I was really looking at in this post was the aspect of creating change — by what I do. And you’re right. Stopping that fight would only have gotten me in major trouble — speaking up about it, now that’s another matter! So it goes… 🙂 Thanks for chiming in!

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  4. Many of us do not make any waves at all, you come across to me as someone who makes good waves in order to make things better. Sometimes going with the flow is easier then speaking ones mind many of us do not find our voice till later in life………..

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  5. Powerful! I am not sure what i would do in that situation. I can see how it is easy to stay silent and keep walking or run away fast. I was just reading about the woman who stopped the school shooting in Georgia and thihnking of how brave she was. I remember reading long ago about a nurse who talked down a gunman who came into the hospital by putting her body against his to comfort him. Both men surrendered. I will never forget this, but if I am face with a gunman, what would I do. I am a counselor, I know how to talk down angry people. I think I would put it in God’s hand and allow the divine to work through me whatever way would be the best. It good because if we trust, we don’t have to know what to do. We will be told when the time comes!

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  6. Ah Jodi — your words are so powerful! And beautiful — “I think I would put it in God’s hand and allow the divine to work through me whatever way would be the best. It good because if we trust, we don’t have to know what to do. We will be told when the time comes!”

    Thank you my friend — are you still coming out west?

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  7. Your posts are so powerful ~ as are you Louise! ♥

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