What is Occupy Wall Street?

I’ve been thinking about this question since I began reading about Zuccotti Park a few weeks ago.  It was something about the word “Occupy” I think…something that struck me differently than other words used to describe other things.

“Occupy…Occupy…Occupy”.  What the hell is going on down there and how can I find out more?

Well I’ m not totally sure but I think the answer to the question can be found in the reason I gathered up myself and my young son, kissed my comfortable familiarity and my wife (are they the same?) goodbye and headed down to the very epicenter of the financial world, Wall Street.  I wasn’t going to sleep in the park, I wasnt going to hold signs or yell slogans or march, I was going because I have the sense that I have awoken as a product in a world I did not create.  I have a sense that I am watching as my humanity circles the drain, looking and feeling dazed amidst the sucking sounds as I stare blankly at the drain stopper in my hand.

I’ve been waiting for someone to do something all my life.  I’ve been waiting for someone to get serious, stop joking around and admit…”ohh it’s all a joke, we didn’t mean it, this isn’t the way life is supposed to be on earth, we made a mistake, sorry about that and here’s how it’s supposed to be”.  Yup.  It hasn’t worked out real well for me in that respect.

Sure I’ve participated, quietly, safely, in my own insurrection, avoiding corporate work and products when I can, making more holistic choices, bringing my own bags to the grocery store.  I engage people in questions when I think questions might help broaden their perspective.  I write and share how I feel about injustice, children, bombs, love and death.  I focus on my son and raising him with a different level of awareness.  I tell myself I’m doing my share.  I tell myself I’m doing what I can.  Both of which are true.

But what I am coming to realize is:  So What!

So what if I’m doing my best, doing my share, so what if I don’t agree with what’s going on, so what if I write or have bag consciousness at the market?  So What!

And so far, that’s what the Occupy movements mean to me.  They are, or at least the original Occupy movement in Zuccotti Park is, an example of a deed not a word.  This last sentence is a very important sentence…

What is left to do?  What is left for a person who recognizes their own humanity by recognizing that they are becoming less human?

Occupy?  Occupy.  Occupy!

I am going to continue to write on this topic because I recognize that this life, today, October 20th, 2011 is not the best we, as humans, can achieve.  Today with our front pages all full of death, sugar and sex, today when I look at my son, today when I listen to my own small voice that is still calling out to me, more, more, more…you can be more, more, more, today I realize that I am not the best that I can be.

What is Occupy?

I don’t really know and I think that’s the best possible thing.  But I have more to say about it, I was there for 2 days this week, I’ve got photos, I talked to some folks and I’ve been avid about watching the watchers of the movement (Thank you Friedman).  I can tell you it’s not what you think it is…or maybe it is and maybe that’s the problem?  What do I know about it!

Well one thing I know is that I am disgusted and ashamed of how we celebrate death and violence in this world.  It’s not what I teach my own child and it’s now what I think other parents want to teach their children so how did we get here?

I’m gonna find out and I’m gonna write about it.  And I’m gonna start by thinking about what it would mean to Occupy my own life…

See you next time – Veritas Vincit.

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