Multicolored, digitally-enhanced photos hung on one wall. A collection of black and white and color photographs hung on another. To their left hung exquisite watercolors, acrylics and oils. The art was a beautiful compliment to the sprung hardwood floors, purple and orange accent walls and sculptures portraying the divine feminine. The space, once a blank canvas, was transformed into a stunning gallery of spiritually-based visual art.

It was Memorial Day, and the main event was a ritual washing of an American flag, which had draped the coffin of the late husband of Joan Forest Mage, executive director of Life Force Arts Center in Chicago. The attendees gathered in a circle at the front of the room where a blanket was laid out. A flute, peace pipe and tobacco were placed on the blanket, as the story of the White Buffalo was told. The pipe was passed while a flute played as participants voiced individual intentions—that truth light up the world; not your truth or my truth, but the truth of unity; the truth of our interconnectedness and the wish for all humankind to be free.

The flag was brought in, respectfully unfolded and submerged in water. Healer Britt Posmer silently and reverently began washing the flag. She held it fast with one hand, and with the other pressed and rubbed the soaking cloth in a simple and domestic act of care. As the event continued, participants vocalized prayers and petitions for the transforming power of reconciliation until the washing was finished.

The freshly cleansed flag was hung from the ceiling, and the second part of the ceremony began—the lighting of 183 candles to signify the number of times that Khaled Shiekh Mohammed was water-boarded. Each time the lighter clicked, it seemed to say, “Again, do it again!” As the last candle was lit, the room fell silent until the closing remarks were spoken. The peace pipe was placed on a small end table, and the flag was left to hang as a meditation.

The flag washing, in its own quiet way, seemed to be saying, “Enough! Enough of the bloodshed, the violence and cruelty. Enough of the ignorance, torture and inequality.

What struck me about the event is how desensitized we have become toward “the other.” What was clearly a violation of human rights and human dignity was carried out in the name of freedom. Patriotism, defined as the fervent love and devotion to one’s country, is not love, and may even generate its opposite. What typically passes for love or hatred is, in fact, the same horizontal movement, the same self-interest which volleys back and forth between for and against.

We would all do well to keep in mind that what passes for love is not. Love could never commit such atrocities. This should be clear, even to a blind man.

When the planet of green people settled on the planet Purple, they were immediately met with hostility and fear. The leaders, being themselves frightened, began a campaign and used propaganda to keep the others estranged. As a result, the communities grew segregated, and before long, they were rivals. On one occasion, a handicapped man wandered into enemy territory. Concerned, his family reported him missing, and a rescue operation was devised to reunite the disabled man with his kin. When the rescue team arrived, to their astonishment, they found the man drinking and having the time of his life. Judging him to be a spy, they seized the man and straightaway put him in prison. Not long after, the public defender came with the family to request the man be released. “On what grounds?” they asked. The public defender replied, “My client is blind.”