(no subject)

(some of this is borrowed from a comment I made in cindymonkey's journal. I thank her for asking the hard questions.)

I know people criticize the Mission Day of the Dead March. Too full of hipsters, too irreverent, too partyish. Too much of a tourist vibe. Too much cultural appropriation.

These are all valid criticisms.

And still.

I started going several years ago, when I lived just a few blocks away. Now, that place is part of what I have to grieve for.

Part of it is, I do not believe spirituality and irreverence are incompatible. In fact, a certain amount of irreverence is essential to my own personal path. It keeps us from taking ourselves too seriously. It reminds us that fun is sacred, too.

Fun is sacred, too.

Dressing up and painting faces and dancing to the drums is just as sacred as holding your head high, lighting the candle, and taking measured, deliberate steps to the altar where you will lay your flowers and your food and your photographs, your wishes and your memories and your messages to the dead.

The reason I walk in the Mission Day of the Dead parade is precisely that I am very affected by the movement from fun, party, play, hipsters in costumes, drums beating, laughter, in the march itself, to the silence and contemplativeness that comes when we reach the park and walk the altars.

And then, last night, just sitting on the benches at the playground and watching children play in the dark.

We can celebrate our dead by laughing, by remembering the joy they brought to our lives, and letting them know that joy still lives. We are sad that they're gone, glad that they were there in the first place.

And we hope that someday, someone will think the same of us. Put on a funny costume and light a candle. Lay flowers for us. Remember, and laugh.