Evolving as individuals with edges touching

We celebrated Charles Darwin's 200th birthday at my Unitarian Universalist church this week, complete with painting a papier mache tortoise named Chuck, a panel discussion about the inevitable debate of religion vs. science, and a sermon focused specifically on Darwin the Man himself.

As my daughter will tell you, I LOVE Darwin. And I'm not entirely sure why. Something about the random interconnection of life and its results as the evolutionary force of nature. It is why the novel I am slowly evolving myself is titled EVOLVE, and why my bedroom is filled with books about Darwin's theories.

At church, I admired again the words of our gifted writer/speaker Rev. Kate, as she pulled together disparate bits about how Evolution Rocks (look up the song lyrics), how the Church of England has published an apology for its treatment of Darwin's theory in his day, and how the Unfinished Business of life is the continuous pursuit of becoming who we are at our core.

"Evolution is," she said. We're never just done.

Life builds from our "successful mistakes," which is not the oxymoron we might otherwise believe it to be.

When I look at my children, I want them to have perfection. I want to tell them everything they need to know. I don't want them to fall down. I don't want them to get hurt. But, of course, they will.

Last weekend, my 10-year-old daughter did what I thought was not possible. She let a solicitor, a stranger, into the house while I was upstairs. Actually opened the door and let him in, because she didn't want to "not be nice" and make him stand in the cold.

She knew that this was a mistake. Thankfully, it was a mistake that was not tragic -- I kicked him out and she and I had an involved, emotional talk. But it freaked me out tremendously. How could she not KNOW this? Haven't I talked to her well enough? And for heaven's sake, how do I convince her that being "nice" is not always the best policy?

She had made a mistake. We talked about it. We learned from it. Hopefully we evolved from the experience. And perhaps that random encounter with a solicitor might actually help her avoid someone more harmful someday.

Rev. Kate also pointed out one of my favorite mantras: that we are formed from that which is both predictable, and unexpected.

We all need structure to keep us afloat. But it is in the unexpected paths -- such as Choice Motherhood, such as a child's questions -- where we discover who we really are.

The recent Facebook phenomenon of writing down 25 Random Things about ourselves is an indulgent little exercise. But it also reminds me of something interesting that I learned in a UU workshop a few years ago, when the simplest question from Rev. Frank led to profound moments of discovery for many of us in the room. He asked us simply to talk about the moments that piqued our spiritual journeys -- and I found myself remembering something from my childhood that I'd forgotten. About the time my parents took in a few members of a traveling musical group from Chicago that came to our small town, and our neighbors across the street had a fit because they were black.

In our very white town, this kind of bigotry was something I'd never experienced before. And it had a profound impact on my values today. I have an extremely short fuse for intolerance. For that unexpected moment in time, I am grateful for what it taught me.

Rev. Kate also pointed out that on our individual paths to perfection, we still argue about what evolution means.

I see this, sometimes good-naturedly, sometimes mean-spiritedly, in our own discussions -- from outsiders, as well as from within -- about Choice Motherhood.

The California single woman who now has 14 children, after delivering eight at once, churns up a tremendous amount of viewpoints about what is right and wrong. Are we right to make choices for ourselves, but then not allow others to make choices they believe are right to make? Who judges who is fit, and who is not? Is a large family worse off than a small family? Is a single-parent family worse off than a two-parent family? Can one woman really love and care for that many healthy and potentially unhealthy children? And if not, who bears responsibility for them? Do we get angry because we care, or because we think we're better than she is?

Most of these good questions. Without answers. But the discussion itself is good to have.

Again, I believe that we discover our own values in having conversation about what is important to us -- and don't need to always impose our own values onto others. What is important is that we learn what we need in order to become closer to the person we are at our core.

We evolve. As individuals, Rev. Kate said, whose edges are blurred and touching.

The church service also included a perfect example of evolution in action. One of the pillars of our church has been dispatched to Iraq for a year as a member of the National Guard. His family was encircled by the congregation; his daughter (my daughter's age) was encircled by her classmates. We used ritual, and words, and comfort shawls, and tears, to send him off. An individual, doing what he needs to do, whose edges have very much touched those of hundreds of people in his community -- and will continue to do so, in yet another community he finds himself connected to.

It is our own aspiration as Choice Moms. Individuals, in a community we have built ourselves, with edges touching.

for more about the community we could be building in our Choice Mom quest, see the ChoiceMoms.org website package this month about "finding partners"