These boots are made for walkin’
And that’s just what they’ll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you – Nancy Sinatra
Okay, this post is brought to you by the shitshow of human relationality that we call Facebook – although, admittedly, the concepts within it predate the social media revolution. In a lot of ways, I consider social media a plus because it spotlights the broad spectrum of human nature, both good and bad; we see the masks that people decorate and don, and then witness the true face that lies behind it.
And that, typically, breaks the relationship.
As I have established before, I am totally not a saint, y’all. One of the downsides of being driven by authenticity is that I can be super-bad at offering comfort, especially when that comfort involves honeyed lies, treating adults like small children, or giving a pass to destructive words or behaviors. I admit that I draw some hard, bright moral lines – and will end relationships, both real and virtual, based on those lines. This may seem strange and harsh; after all, to quote some concepts from Gabor Maté, we are socialized to place our need for attachment (AKA belonging) over authenticity (AKA truth).
And I am not like that – at all. I will end (and have ended) friendships and family relationships over my deeply held principles because those principles are literally who I am. And because of that latter factor, I have no regrets about doing so.
One of those hard moral lines for me: Wishing, justifying or advocating harm to innocent people. I don’t care how “noble” or justifiable your cause is. If you hate a group of people enough to advocate their deaths, we will not have a relationship.
So, in light of the goings-on in the Middle East, I yeeted a few Facebook friends insisting, in so many words, that “those Israeli babies had it coming.” In the past, I’ve tossed folks who pushed conspiracy theories, often connected with topics such as vaccines or disinformation intended to keep people from voting, or who say racist things – namely, discourse that causes real harm in this world because speech is an action, and all acts have repercussions.
When I can’t end a relationship for practical reasons, I will shut down conversations that promote violence – either by refusing to engage at all (a concept known as “greyrocking”) or telling folks that I will not participate in this conversation, with a raised voice if necessary (although I really hate doing this).
Because I don’t want to be in relationship with someone who advocates harm to others, or spreads misinformation or prejudice. Yes, this is judgmental: I am making a judgment here, and I am voting with my feet.
Look, I understand devotion to causes. There are truths I hold near and dear to my heart that I am willing to die for – but not kill for. Never kill for. Sacrifices are noble and holy – and must be paid by the self, willingly. When you force others to sacrifice their lives and well-being for your cause, that’s an unholy act – no matter what cause you are advocating.
And if I end our relationship, please understand that I don’t hate you. I wish you all good things – but I will not be near you while you are advocating or arguing persuasively to justify harm. Because we all have choices, and I choose to be true to my principles.
Loyalty is bullshit when you really think about it.
You keep lyin’ when you oughta be truthin’
And you keep losing when you oughta not bet
You keep samin’ when you oughta be a’changin’
Now what’s right is right but you ain’t been right yet
I don’t pretend that my harsh moral lines are a virtue; after all, one can argue persuasively that belonging holds more social value than thorny authenticity. Humans are social animals, right? So why wouldn’t it be more important to privilege the comfort of others than to jump up and down, and – say – point to the complex web of historical and geopolitical factors that came into play after Western colonial powers divvied up the defeated Ottoman Empire?
To respond to untruth with a gracious smile is, after all, an act of loyalty to the relationship. And here’s the traitorous truth: I am a compassionate person, but not a loyal one.
Loyal entered the English language in the 1530s, referring to a monarch’s faithful subjects; it was once the same word as legal, and both are rooted in the Latin word for law, lex. Our friends at the Online Etymology Dictionary – seriously, I should pay these people royalties for how often I quote that site in this blog – connect the word’s development to the feudal system. To wit: “faithful in carrying out legal obligations; conformable to the laws of honor.”
Around the year 1600, the term began to be applied in wider contexts – namely, dogs and lovers. Why?
When you drill down, loyalty is about unquestioning submission to an external authority. It reminds me of belief, which is unquestioning submission to that authority’s definition of reality, whether mundane or sacred.
These are the rules and obligations that I must follow, says the loyal soul, wagging a tail. You are my master and I obey.
Loyalty is a prime virtue in dominator systems – essentially, hierarchies dependent upon the use of force against defined subalterns, which we can gloss as the “Other.” It’s easy to see why: Since subalterns outnumber masters in any given context, you need an internal concept – a virtue, a sacred belief – to prevent rebellions from starting. Loyalty keeps the soldiers in line and willing to lay down their lives — or take those of others — on behalf of the leader.
Essentially, it’s submission redefined as virtue. In a business context, loyal customers are often treated more shabbily than those who need to be wooed. Loyal employees typically receive less compensation than they deserve, since employee “loyalty” means forgoing unionization. A loyal dog obeys the master who beats him. A loyal lover stays despite their partner’s overt lack of care.
Loyalty and forgiveness work hand-in-hand to erase the power-holder’s accountability – in whatever sphere we are talking about. The rex dishes it out, and the lex must endure, forgive and, above all, comply. (By the way: It’s not a coincidence that royal and regal, from the Latin word for king – rex – are exact mirrors of loyal and legal, from lex.)
And in my own life … Homie the Clown don’t play that shit. Remember: I’m a non-hierarchical bonobo type, and all about authenticity over belonging. After all, the truth may taste like shit, but sweet lies rot you from the inside out.
I give not a single soul my undying loyalty – not friend or family, political party or priestess, sensei or supervisor. If someone is behaving in a harmful or disrespectful way, I will push back – sometimes fiercely — or even end the relationship. And while this is always a painful experience, I don’t regret ending relationships in these circumstances.
That’s not to say I do so willy-nilly. Unless circumstances are really egregious, I give everyone a pass the first time because anyone can have a bad day. The second time, I become thoughtful. The third time, I recognize that a pattern has been established and slip into my walking boots.
I am totally disloyal and unvirtuous – because I really do make a god of truth, and I do so out of love.
Regrettably, for all the loyal fans of storge and philia, that love is the agape type.
Do I always act in accordance with agape? Big nope, but I try.
Are you ready, boots? Start walkin’.
When I first started writing this little screed, I thought about defining my core value as devotion – but that wasn’t quite right. Even bhakti doesn’t quite touch what I’m getting at, because I am trying to capture deep love for the Other without erasing your own sovereignty. Sovereignty, as always, means your soul, your inviolable self – the truth of your life, and your ability to choose.
Somewhere in my innards, truth and love are inextricably tangled. I’m not quite in the place where I can explain how they relate or why; maybe my weirdly contemplative path will take me there someday.
But what I do know, and can articulate, is that our relationships reflect our values. Human worth and dignity are a core portion of my own values, and I am painfully aware that my decisions demonstrate this value – or its lack.
Here’s a non-current example: Some years back, I was Facebook friends with a local dude who was conservative. No problem there; I am willing to entertain other viewpoints. Then he began posting about how Democratic voters — not politicians, but voters, and he deliberately spelled this out — should be hung from lampposts. (Not exaggerating, either. I wrote a poem about the incident. Of course I did.)
What does it say about me and my values if I were to remain in a relationship with this person? Obviously, it would demonstrate my own lack of self-respect. (I am a registered Democrat.) It would also demonstrate to anyone else subject to his screeds that I thought this discourse was fine and dandy: It’s A-Okay to advocate lynching for political opponents.
In light of the current tragedy, what message am I sending to my Jewish friends and colleagues if I permit thinly veiled anti-Semitism on my feed? I imagine it’s something like: “Yeah, I may have all these lofty ideals about love, but they really don’t mean much when the shit hits the fan. I wouldn’t come to your aid. I wouldn’t have your back.” I don’t want to be that person.
I also don’t want to be the person who permits invective against Muslims or Christians or “those people,” however defined. Yes, I have real criticisms when it comes to Christian theology and have written about it frequently – but I don’t consider Christianity evil or wrong, even if it’s not the one and only truth. (I am not as familiar with Islam so I don’t talk about it much, but the same principle holds.)
There are seeds of beauty and meaning there, and while these seeds cannot be transplanted into my particular soil, I still appreciate their potential. The Garden isn’t a monoculture; I’d like to think of us as a complex ecosystem of beneficial interrelationship – well, potentially. We’re not there yet, but we could be. In the immortal words of Tank Girl: “We can be wonderful. We can be magnificent. We can turn this shit around.”
I’m not saying that you should catapult anyone who disagrees with you into the sun – not at all. But if your relationships reflect your values, you need to speak up or act on those values when the situation requires.
Not with the intent of changing the other person, mind you; actual research shows that facts cannot change people’s perspectives, which is connected with how the brain stores information. Here’s the reason to evolve into a vertebrate: Who we really are is built upon the foundation of our actions in this world – not our beliefs or internal principles, but how we embody these principles in our day-to-day lives, in ways both large and small.
On my silly Instagram account, Basic Orange Coffee Mug, I included this line: Every act of turning away is an act of violence. I experienced some mild pushback from this, largely because people don’t feel that they have the bandwidth to care about strangers on the other side of the world. And I get it: Our daily lives are swampy enough.
My own principles tell me this: When we look away from the complex realities of suffering for our own comfort, we become bystanders offering our silent approval for the acts of the wicked.
Does the sheer act of noticing the tears and grief and loss heal the injured and resurrect the dead? Assuredly not. But we can’t begin to do the work of healing the whole unless we make an honest accounting of complex, messy and unbearably painful realities, and letting that pain into our hearts to shatter us.
It turns out that compassion is the right word, after all, the antidote to loyalty: com-pati, which means “to suffer with.” When you suffer with someone, you erase the hierarchy. When you act with love, you change the world. And yes, I know there is a contradiction here that love may require you to step back from particular relationships, but once again, the multiverse is a complex and muddy place.
So, I will slip my feet out of those walking boots and end with the same words I used in my Facebook post.
War is human tragedy. There is no silver lining. Each death diminishes us all. May Asherah bring peace and healing.
White Cat Grove 
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