We Are the World

I have obviously failed to galvanize and prod, if not shame enough Americans to be ever vigilant not to let a Chicago communist-raised, communist-educated, communist-nurtured subhuman mongrel like the ACORN community organizer gangster Barack Hussein Obama to weasel his way into the top office of authority in the United States of America.”  (Ted Nugent)

These harsh words have been rolling around in my mind this week.  On my initial reading of them, I felt shocked, even assaulted.  These words seem to symbolize the ways Americans are divided from one another.  As I read a little more about Nugent, I decided he may be too extreme in his speech to symbolize the divisions between us, but still, few Republicans have strongly repudiated his words.  But the real question in my mind isn’t just these particular words.  Rather it is, how do people deal with a difference in opinion especially an important opinion that may determine how a country is governed?  Probably most of us have, at some time, made rude comments about not only politicians but also about acquaintances, people in our circle of friends, maybe even family members.  Is that good for us?

There is a certain satisfaction in a clever putdown.  But it adds to a wall of separation between us and others.  Theoretically, we know that isn’t good.  It is discouraged by most religions and ethical systems.  But on a practical level, it can feel very good. One antidote is to see ourselves as one, one of the group called Americans (or whatever your country) or even the group called people of the world.  Can we imagine ourselves as one?  Can we imagine ourselves as Ted Nugent?  Or Barack Obama?  Sometimes I can.

…I have a responsibility to God to walk the path He's laid. In spite of my anger, and my fear that we won’t get the verdict that we want, I am still called by the God I serve to walk this out.

Ta-Nehisi Coates interviewed Lucia McBath, mother of Jordan Davies, the Arican-American teenager shot by Michael Dunn.  I pray her path gets easier, but as a mother, I know the pain will never disappear.  

Home Movies

Below Ken Wilber gives a good introduction as to what beginning meditation is like.  Personally, I still find it difficult to go beyond this stage.

When you practice meditation, one of the first things you realize is that your mind—and your life, for that matter—is dominated by largely subconscious verbal chatter. You are always talking to yourself. And so, as they start to meditate, many people are stunned by how much junk starts running through their awareness. They find that thoughts, images, fantasies, notions, ideas, concepts virtually dominate their awareness. They realize that these notions have had a much more profound influence on their lives than they ever thought.

A Love Story, the Driving Part

I’m posting this story partly because I like it, and partly because now it will be easy to find if I want to refer to the driving tips.  In this USA Today story, Michael Gartner describes his parents’ relationship, particularly how they drove their car.

 After he retired, my father [who didn’t drive] almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along….As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?" "I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre.
"No left turns," he said.

"What?" I asked.

All You Need, cont'd

"...one day we must come to see that peace is not merely a distant goal we seek, but that it is the means by which we arrive at that goal..."  Martin Luther King Jr.

All You Need...

"Mock sappy, sentimental expressions of romance even as you carry out futuristic experiments in radically slaphappy love." Rob Brezsney

Don't Go Blindly

Experience without theory is blind, but theory without experience is mere intellectual play.  Immauel Kant 

I have posted a similar quotation before.  I thought of it this morning when I sat down for meditation.  I can’t imagine meditation having any meaning without a theory of practice behind it.  I try to continue studying meditation theory.  It helps keep the practice fresh.

I’m guessing that most areas of our lives are supported by theory of some kind though that theory may be unconscious and dictated by the culture around us.  This Valentine’s Day, I want to remind myself that there are theories that can support my desire to be a loving compassionate person.  There's always time to see more clearly.

Quotation for Today

Meditation, simply defined, is a way of being aware. It is the happy marriage of doing and being. It lifts the fog of our ordinary lives to reveal what is hidden; it loosens the knot of self-centeredness and opens the heart; it moves us beyond mere concepts to allow for a direct experience of reality.

- Lama Surya Das, The Heart-Essence of Buddhist Meditation

I Practice

I practice meditation. The people in my meditation group (sangha) call it sitting practice or just sitting. I don't talk about it much, but sometimes I'll mention to a friend that I met with my meditation group.  I’m often kind of surprised that they don’t ask questions about it, but I’m relieved too.  I'm not sure what to say about a decision to sit in silence just trying to focus on my breath.

Media reports talk of how meditation improves blood pressure, stress, and health in general.  I always find these reports alarming.  They seem to imply that without meditation, I would be even sicker and crazier than I am now.

Last week I attended a meditation retreat from Wednesday evening until Sunday noon.  Most of that time, I did not speak.  There were a lot of scheduling difficulties involved in going away for these days, so I talked about my plans more than usual, and people did comment.  It sounded like they pictured me spending that time in a peaceful trance.  Actually some of the time was wonderfully peaceful.  But sometimes, it was boring—so boring.  And tiring too.  I’m not used to sitting so much and for the last meditation after dinner, I could hardly get comfortable.  I did find it interesting how well I slept—I thought this an indication of what hard work meditation is.

So, why do I do it?  One of the basics in the introduction to meditation is, we meditate to discover our true nature and to learn that we are not separate from anything.  Does that happen?  Did it happened last week?  Yes and no.  I was in touch with great feelings of tenderness toward the people in the meditation room, tenderness toward the house we stayed in and the beautiful snowy grounds. But I knew I would go home and struggle to hold onto that tenderness.  As I expected, it doesn’t come as easily in the "real world," but it hasn’t gone away either.  And the memory of the retreat’s intense tenderness speaks to me of a reassuring truth about my connectedness to the world.  I am very moved and nourished by that.

Do I recommend meditation practice?  Yes, if it speaks to you, check it out.  If you think it should speak to you, but it doesn’t quite, you might read about it to help you make your decision.  I probably read about meditation and the philosophy that goes with it for three or four years before I actually seriously tried it.  I personally think it’s not the cure-all touted in popular media with claims of relaxation and pain relief.  Paradoxically, I think it’s better than those claims.  It has given me a sense of belongingness to this life, both to the “good” and “bad.”  I think this will get stronger. That's good.

This video "The Fruits of Zen Practice" explains it in a more organized fashion than I do.

               

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."  That's a good quotation from Camus that seems appropriate for our South Bend weather. I stumbled across it today, but I don't know the context.  I assume he was being hopeful.

At the New Yorker site, Sasha Weiss discusses the counter claims of Dylan Farrow and Woody Allen.  In her discussion she says,

These things are difficult to talk about, which is why they are worth talking about. 

What a useful idea.  It could apply to so many things we don't want to talk about.

Living with Fiction

I finished the novel The Signature of All Things a couple of weeks ago, and ever since, Elizabeth Gilbert’s story has been floating in and out of my mind and inspiring once again, the question, what is the relationship between fiction and reality?  Beyond entertainment, what are the possibilities with a novel like Signature? 

The novel’s main character, Alma Whittaker, is a 19^th century naturalist whose specialty is studying and writing about moss.  She develops both a great curiosity and appreciation for mosses and the ways they grow and adapt.  You might say she develops a tenderness for moss; you might say, her tenderness takes her into a mysticism that leads her to feel connected to all of nature.

I suppose this novel allows me to feel this tenderness as well, not necessarily toward moss, but toward the beauty and mystery of nature.  I too can feel the love exper- ienced by this fictional woman for the natural world.  That’s all I can make of it.  I think it’s enough.