Showing all posts tagged justice

In Culture, Identity, Minimalism, Nurture, Personal Growth, Politics, Speaking, Writing

3 Words for 2020

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

Smaller. Braver. Justice. These are my 3 words for 2020. (Yes, I’m aware I missed writing this post in January, but it’s still early in the new decade, right? Or so I tell myself.)

I’ve been picking 3 words as a focus for my year since 2016. I learned this practice from the fabulous Sarah Bessey, who usually chooses one word for her year. One word didn’t seem like enough to me (plus I couldn’t narrow it down), so I picked 3.

At the end of each year, lit by the Christmas tree in the dewy darkness of December, I close my eyes and wait for words to develop on the screen of my mind. This year they came as softly as ever, but quickly, like staccato notes.

Smaller.

I’m determined to stop waiting for some future idea of success. I no longer want a huge reach on social media or to be a famous writer with a 7-figure book advance (well, I mostly don’t yearn for the enormous book deal). My goal is to return to a smaller sphere of influence. To be content with a small yet satisfying life. I want to stop believing that all of the good stuff is out there in the world and I have to chase it down. When I choose to summon gratitude for the people and the experiences that are already in my small circle, it’s actually abundant and joyful. By the end of 2020, I want to really know that a smaller life is more than enough.

Braver.

I’ve been working on courage for a long time. More confidence to speak up and use my voice. I’ve come a long way from the timid mouse I used to be, but this year I long to go even further. To use my privilege to benefit those who need more advocacy. My goal is to stop obsessing that I might be stepping out of line or rocking the boat. When I hear something offensive, I’m trying to speak up. Intuition is a powerful force, but it doesn’t work if we don’t use it. When I’m in a situation that doesn’t feel right, I’m planning to utilize my bravery more. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Especially when it’s uncomfortable. This is how we move forward as a society. We need all of the voices. All of the courage. Together we can make a bigger impact.

Justice.

Which leads me to justice. For quite a few years now, I’ve been gathering my sensibilities around fairness and equality, but I’ve been doing this quietly. Now, in 2020, it feels like the right time to speak out. To write about the issues that are near and dear to me, even if they upset some people. It’s okay for others not to agree. That’s what freedom looks like. What’s not okay is to be too afraid to speak up. The stakes are high. It’s time. My hope is that my smaller life will help me become braver, which will prompt me to speak up for justice in a clear voice. I often remind myself that courage doesn’t mean you aren’t afraid. It simply means you go ahead and act anyway.

What are your words for 2020? What areas of growth do you plan to focus on in our fresh new decade of possibility?

In Identity, Personal Growth, Spiritual Life, University, Writing

Circles

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Circles

I adore my two writing classes this semester. One is online, my first time to try a class in this format, and the other is in person with a favourite professor who taught me counselling classes almost twenty years ago. He was a big reason for me choosing this particular university and this is my first class with him since I returned to school. It’s like three hours of the best therapy every Thursday afternoon.

Yesterday we spent 45 minutes silently colouring on large pieces of art paper. We used crayons, broken and bent from years of other people using them to access some long forgotten piece of their creative selves. The only rule was that we couldn’t write words. The goal was to draw aimlessly, without thinking about it too much, and try to enter into the flow of listening to what our subconscious was saying.

I highly recommend this practice. Even just drawing nonsense squiggles caused me to feel weepy, as I knew I was communicating from a deeper level than usual by allowing my right hand to move aimlessly across a sheet of paper without planning or designing what was going to happen.

We all have so much happening underneath of our usual words, smiles, tears, and silences. Some days we churn, others we are still like a standing puddle. The key to fully living out this human experience is to stay in touch with these deeper parts of our being. To know who we really are, without our bullshit disguises and imposed societal obligations.

Many of us drew some form of a circle. For me, my circles felt like a dream I’m inching toward; some form of wholeness and inevitability. I’m weary of straight lines and conformity. I long for the clarity and purpose of a circle, fully contained but also willing to expand and grow outward as necessary. My subconscious seemed to be expressing this wish in my class yesterday. Today, when I reflect on this drawing and sharing experience, I feel a sense of peace and wonder.

I’m also thinking about something my professor said when we were discussing the boundless possibilities humans experience. He said, “We have the capacity to create a fair and just world. And yet we don’t. Why is this?” As a question, it generated a lot of interesting ideas, but my heart feels heavy a day later mulling this over in my mind and soul. How can humans innovate so many marvellous inventions and yet we continually fail to create a fair and just world?

Peace and wonder have to be the markers of a creative life being lived. Otherwise, what is it all for? This pursuit of art is supposed to be leading us somewhere. Together. Towards fairness and justice. We are all on different paths but hopefully our guideposts involve peace and wonder, lighting our way towards a fair and just world. Or at least a better one than what we were born into.

I long for that, with every ounce of my being, and hope that somehow those circles last night are part of this unyielding dream toward a better existence for all of us. For today, I’ll follow my sense of peace and wonder. Whatever leads me closer to those things are to be prioritized over what leads away from them. Perhaps it really is as simple as that while we make our way towards creating a fair and just world.

In Culture, Minimalism, Nurture

Excess is Killing Us

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

I went to the U2 Joshua Tree 2017 concert in Vancouver on Friday night. Not because I wanted to, but Jason had never been able to get tickets in his younger years and always had a burning desire to see them perform live. Supportive wife that I am, I agreed to go with him for a birthday present.

From what I’ve read, this tour is a scaled-down show for U2 compared to some of their previous tours, but I found it overwhelmingly high-tech, expensive and over the top when it came to lights, screens and effects (admittedly, I attended Christian concerts in my youth with the likes of Michael W. Smith, Steve Green and Amy Grant so I’m not a connoisseur of rock music and I’m a true Granny at heart when it comes to noise and spectacle).

As a culture, we seem to crave endless entertainment. But when is it enough? If we are constantly searching for bigger, louder, more impressive and expensive, when does this thirst ever get quenched? And at what point do we decide it’s too much and now we want something simpler, deeper, more accessible to everyone instead of just those at the top of the economic structure?

My journey into minimalism has radically shifted my perspective on what I’m willing to spend time and money on. I question everything now, which I think is good and healthy (albeit awkward and often tense at parties or functions when I start to rail on about my theories).

When Jason and I discussed this on the way home from the concert, he said, “This live performance is also a unique experience that we’ll have forever. That’s part of what we’re paying for.” I agree with this, in theory, but I still question the cost, both financially and morally, of investing in something so big and loud and insanely expensive for what amounts to ninety minutes of entertainment.

Excess is killing us. Flash and dash does not satisfy long term. I want to invest in depth and substance, something that moves the needle of love, mercy and justice toward the oppressed instead of focusing on my own nostalgia and appetite for entertainment.

Is it wrong to go see U2 in concert? Of course not. But I think it’s okay to admit that I have conflicted feelings about being part of something that costs millions when the world is in such desperate need of water, food, safety, equal rights, environmental conservation and peace (to name just a few of our global issues). These things matter more than my desire to be wowed at any cost.

I don’t know what the answer is here. I wish I did. All I know is that my heart hurts for the intolerance and simmering rage I observe in our society right now. We need to think bigger in terms of solutions and hope for everyone, not just a select few. I want to go beyond consumption, entertainment and individual excess. I long to see what we can do together for the poor, the broken, the marginalized, the sick. Less of what I need, more of what we need.

But how? This is the question I’m desperate to answer.

In Culture, Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth

Be Bold for Change

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Be Bold for Change

Wednesday, March 8th is International Women’s Day and the theme for 2017 is Be Bold for Change. My almost 14-year-old daughter Ava spent time this weekend creating a poster for her school for this important day. The slogan she came up with? I’d rather shatter a glass ceiling than fit into a glass slipper.

BOOM. I’m so proud to be her mother. Frankly, I’m pissed right off that we are still talking about how women should be paid the same as men and receive the same basic human rights as men. We are 17 years into a new millennium, and yet as a world we continue to struggle when it comes to equality, inclusivity and justice for those who did not happen to be born as white men.

This year, I plan to be bold. And when my courage falters, I will look to Ava and her friends, for they will carry this torch on far beyond me. They will not accept the double standard that I’ve seen far too often. They will speak up and be bold and call out the hypocrisy they witness. I’m convinced they will finally get us a fairer world.

Women have issued a challenge on Wednesday to go on strike, in an effort to prove that a Day Without a Woman has a huge impact. I’m all for this concept. I hope it works. As a continuation of the global outcry after the U.S. inauguration that resulted in enormous women’s marches in cities all around the world, I’d love to see this strike concept fly.

But I also know that real, lasting change comes slowly and it starts in individual hearts. Rob Bell recently spoke about the need for a counter narrative to unite those marching and protesting. This message struck a resonant chord for me. What is our counter narrative?

It has to centre on love and peace, the way the women’s march did. But it also needs a bit of fire and boldness to it, like this strike is calling for. I’m grateful that smarter people than me are involved in these matters. Something is crying out in my heart and I don’t yet know exactly what it is.

When I watched Ava hunched over her poster in her bedroom, I felt like weeping. From pride but also an intense grief, that this world is such a damn broken mess for her. I yearn for beauty, kindness, understanding, intelligent discourse, friendship and acceptance. And yet what we are mired in this year is anger, misogyny, racism, cruelty, ignorance and bitter division. I want to believe we are better than this.

Let it begin with me. All change comes from this place. We do not see the world as it is, we see it how we are. So I must be love, peace, gender equality, authenticity and warmth. I must choose hope in spite of my fear and sadness. I must seek out light, for a few brave candles can light up the darkest night. Now is the time to believe that goodness will prevail, especially when we see little evidence of it.

This Wednesday, let’s reach out to one another and say, “I see you and I support you.” Let’s be generous with our kind words and our smiles. Let’s be bold for change and shatter glass ceilings instead of slippers. Let’s do it together, for as a group we are more powerful and effective. Let’s build our counter narrative. We were born for such a time as this.