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This morning I drifted into Mitch Ditkoff's fundraiser for TPRF and peeked at his Valentine's Day gift for me. Daya sings in the background to quotes from the Beatles, Martin Luther King, Mother Theresa, Albert Einstein and others. Words rose from my stomach. Words like juxtaposition, co-opting, mis-appropriation, grifted association. I looked-up cultural appropriation but it didn't fit. Identity theft, the co-opting and theft of a beloved universal theme (the best of humanity that Prem Rawat once severed me from).
I can't blame Mitch, unless of course he knows what we're grappling with... that "both daughters were present," in which case his actions would be a gut punch.
Then the chasm. The gap between my reaction and that of the donors whose elated hearts surely melted, not to mention my sadness as I recognized a few of the donors. How would they judge my words if they don't know?
What will be the defensive rationalizations of those who will cling desperately? Sadly we already know. Even sadder is empathetically feeling their desperation, putting myself in their shoes.
Sometimes truth pierces like a... hurts.
Modified by lakeshore at Sun, Feb 04, 2024, 04:18:44
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