Reflections on Politics

 

The above video is a recording of what’s written here below.

Decompressing in the wake of having watched a total of 9-hours of the Republican National Convention this past week (and 7-hours of the Democratic National Convention last week), including 70-minutes of President Trump’s speech last night, I’ve taken myself up here to the mountain, to the peace sign overlook here in Missoula. And I feel it’s worth mentioning that while I take comfort in this spot and find ease in this peace sign, I do not consider myself an activist or a world peace idealist.

It’s hard to put into words what I think and feel about politics. Part of me is scared too, as no matter what words I land on, I will spark hard, unpleasant, uncomfortable, harmful, damaging feelings in others. And this is, I see now, another step in my journey of letting go. I cannot caretake for everyone; cannot keep everyone comfortable all the time – should not keep everyone comfortable all the time. Still. What is there to say? And is it worth saying?

This is what I know:

On Interbeing

If you’re like me, you appreciate having concrete ways in which to bring the practice of mindfulness and the teachings of the dharma to life in your daily activities. For example, if I encounter teachings about impermanence or compassion or gratitude or true happiness and I don’t have ways – or develop ways – in which to actually practice impermanence, compassion, gratitude, and true happiness, then I situate myself at the great risk of having the teachings just be ideas that sound good but never launch off the page to truly inform my everyday thoughts, speech, and actions.

Interbeing is another example of something that sounds good. And if I don’t delve more into it; become curious about what it really means and how to put it into play; ask myself questions; form a relationship with it, I’m side-stepping the real wisdom and possibility for insight that exists within it. If I’m like: yeah yeah, interbeing, I get it, we’re all connected, blah blah blah, then I’ve clearly missed the mark.

Here are some musings that have stirred up for me recently on the dharmic thread of the insight of interbeing:

Life Is For The Living

My dwelling place
is an assembly
of people on display
held still within such things as:
artwork, rocks,
bookmarks, socks
and, in one delightful instance,
a stuffed goat.

Objects are more than
inanimate things
taking up space,
collecting dust.

When surrounded by items
made or gifted by cherished hands,
linked to a heart big enough
like certain mountains
to summon their own weather,
what other outcome is there
than to feel held by the same tribe
of loved ones that cradle you to sleep,
firm in the knowledge that
life is for the living?

On Hold

Yesterday, a new modem arrived in the mail from our internet provider, along with a set of instructions for self-installation. It wasn’t rocket science, especially since we were simply replacing an older modem that was already hooked up with all of the same kind of cords attached.

Everything was going great for me set-up wise – I did all the stuff and connected all the stuff and disconnected all the old stuff and cleaned up all the dust & debris that had accumulated in the corner where I removed all the old stuff – until the very last step. Activate modem using your smartphone or computer, it said. So there I was on my laptop doing what it said and then…death.

An error message popped up on my screen that said I needed to call the 800 number for support. Drat.

Well. What choice did I have but to call the number?! It was either that or go without internet service (gasp!). My preemptive frustration for needing to call to complete the installation of the new modem was situated in figuring I’d have a long hold time waiting for a customer service agent, as that’s been par for the course in the wake of covid. And, I was right. I sat on hold for a total of 61 minutes, followed by an additional 16 minutes accompanied by a dude on the other end trying to fix a number of issues that kept cropping up.

Befriending Myself, Befriending the World

Amid this collectively difficult time, the question often arises (in my circle anyway): What are you doing to help nourish and restore yourself? What elements of self-care are you investing in in order to stay balanced? Spurred by this, I felt called to fashion this post as a way to help me process my own journey. Here goes.

One of my new favorite quotes is:

“Under duress, we do not rise to our expectations, but fall to our level of training.” – Bruce Lee

I can only imagine what my life would be like right now amid this pandemic and this heightened time of racial awareness and justice movement had I not already been investing in a mindfulness practice prior to these swells of turmoil. A Chinese proverb comes to mind: Dig the well before you’re thirsty.

It’s incredibly difficult to learn from scratch the skills and tools of self-care amid a period of internal and/or external collapse. In my experience with serving as the program director for our weekly sangha for the past 18-years, I’ve seen it over and over again: people coming to our meditation group in a deeply ailing state, looking for something to keep them afloat and bolster their well-being, only to fall away from such things as continuing to attend sangha and practicing meditation in short order because it’s not the quick fix remedy they were hoping for. This isn’t to say that it can’t or doesn’t work for some folks to have hard times propel them into actions that create lasting change but in my experience, this is a very small demographic of individuals.

Hibakusha (a poem)

This week marks 75 years
since bombs were dropped
on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

I read a recent article
in which a woman who survived
the blast said that she hates sunrises,
even now, all these decades later,
as the colors remind her of that day.

There’s a word for survivors
of those two days;
those two nuclear devastations
in Japan at the end of WWII:
hibakusha.
One word tells the tale.

I have no frame of reference
for undergoing such horridity.
No footprint to layer over a hibakusha’s
in what remained of their city in ashes,
strewn with tens of thousands of dead bodies,
once my homeland’s jets abided
by their orders without imploring
their own conscience.

How strange that we are both a nation
of people who do what we’re told
and also become enraged when we’re
told what to do.

What must it be like to hate sunsets?
To have one word paint the picture
of how you managed not to die
that one day in 1945?

And what other choice
did the hibakusha have
but to start picking up the pieces
as soon as the dust started clearing?

What other call could they answer
but to carry on living
for all those who could not?

Building Sangha

As an ordained member of Thich Nhat Hanh’s Order of Interbeing (OI), rooted in the Plum Village tradition, I know that my teacher has given us OI members the important task of sangha building as our highest priority as spiritual practitioners and leaders. Sangha meaning: spiritual community in Buddhism.

Inspired by a dialog I had the other day with an OI aspirant I am helping to mentor, I’d like to share some of my thoughts around what sangha building means to me and especially how it’s taking new forms in the wake of covid.

I’ve been reflecting recently on how many regular annual sangha gatherings and events I’ve not had – or will not have – the delight in organizing this year: our local spring mindfulness retreat; my home sangha’s summer campout; potlucks at my house; Mindful Community Conversations; Friendsgiving in November; open mic nights at our local mindfulness center; our White Elephant Gift Exchange in December. And the cancellation of all of these events and programs has resulted in feelings of sorrow and disappointment and also feelings of relief and spaciousness.

My weekly home sangha, Be Here Now, has been  meeting on Zoom now since March. In transferring to the Zoom platform, coupled with the cancellation of all the things that would normally bring us all together and help strengthen our collective group and individual relationships, I’ve often been referring to a teaching shared during a class series I took back in January centered around Nonviolent Communication (or NVC as it’s commonly referred to as) by our instructor: Be fierce about your needs and creative about your strategies. 

To me, sangha building is more than organizing chances and opportunities for folks in our spiritual practice to gather together as a group, it involves showing up for people, offering support, reaching out, checking in, touching base, remembering & honoring birthdays, and getting involved in the lives of active sangha members with heartfelt interest. It involves me stepping into my own discomfort and being vulnerable. It involves me not putting on an act or a front or pretending I have all the answers. It involves me bringing my full sometimes confused, sometimes messy self to the table.