A matter of time: autumn 2014

 Hi Katalusis friends,

This little tree is always the first in our back yard to flaunt red leaves (9/23/14).

The autumnal equinox a couple of days ago reminded me of this piece that I first posted in September 2007:


Up here in the northern hemisphere, we’ll mark the autumnal equinox this Sunday when the sun heads south across the celestial equator, and the hours of daylight and darkness become nearly equal.


My son Steve is coming for dinner this evening (his wife Nancy is out of town), and the already shorter days and cooler nights demand a pot of spicy chili, salad greens, and fresh-baked apple pie.


Good smells from the kitchen distract me from my work as I sit here at my computer. And I’m thinking if I get time, I’ll run out and get a chunk of cheese and some wine to add to our feast. Wait a minute, I remind myself, I’m in charge here, and my computer can nap until I get back.


I pull out of the parking garage into an early fall afternoon with temps in the low 70s, blue skies, and blinding sunlight. A few trees flaunt newly dyed yellow leaves from among the still mostly green groves along my route.


The supermarket is busy but in no time at all I’ve paid for my cheese and dashed to the neighborhood liquor store for a bottle of red wine. I then stop by the library to return a couple of books I borrowed before the season shifted on Labor Day from the more relaxed pace of summer to the early signs of autumn when kids return to school, Unitarian-Universalists return to church, and Congress returns to Washington.


“The ticking of the clock is the normal measure of experience,” James Carroll reminded us at the beginning of this too rapidly waning year. He said, “You usually move through this sequencing, the way a fish moves through water, unaware of the realm in which you have your being.”


But there’s a difference between the fish and us, Carroll continued: “You can notice the water. Your water is time, but noticing the water is how you swim. The future and the past exist only in your minds, but that does not mean they are not real…we are bodies moving through the world, but our real movement is through the temporal stream of consciousness.”


Mindfulness meditation has taught me how to slow time down as I move though my own temporal stream of consciousness. From the writings of Jon Kabbat-Zinn and Thich Nhat Hanh, I’ve learned to navigate through memories of the past and make imaginative forays into the future while relying on my breathing to anchor me in this present moment.


Slowing time down is no small achievement for one conditioned by the demands of journalism to continually hustle to meet the next deadline. But on this day, I’ve mindfully arranged the bouquet of flowers I picked up at the supermarket, set out the wine glasses, and stirred the chili simmering on the stove.



When all is ready, I turn on the news to catch glimpses of the war-ravaged citizens of Iraq, and I wonder how they experience their movement through time lacking even the most basic necessities of safe drinking water and electricity, while their daily life is disrupted by exploding I.E.D.s and random bursts of gunfire from American troops and/or Blackwater Security Guards.


Not surprisingly, the most recent polls show a majority of Iraqis want Americans out of there like yesterday.


I turn off the TV when the phone rings from the lobby announcing Steve’s arrival. We enjoy our dinner together in the warm atmosphere of home, reminiscing a bit here and there and in contrast to our civilian Iraqi counterparts, speaking confidently of tomorrow.


Loading the dishwasher after Steve leaves, I realize I’ve been unable to completely dispel the ugly shadow of war cast by the evening news.


You could say it’s just a matter of time, but precisely how and when this administration will find the wisdom and courage to admit its mistakes and end our occupation of Iraq is anyone’s guess. 

Mindfully meditating on the Ukraine crisis – well, why not?

Kerry says Russia 'hiding hand behind falsehoods."

It’s disorienting to read Thich Nhat Hanh’s book, The Art of Communicating, while out of the corner of my mind following the back and forth between U.S. and Russian officials over the Ukraine crisis.

On the one hand, Nhat Hanh advises deep listening and sensitivity to the suffering of the other; on the other hand the escalating threats between two world superpowers are reminiscent of cold war rhetoric.

I grew up in that era and such exchanges bring back the chilling threat of a nuclear holocaust. I kind of wish these U.S. and Russian officials would form a mindfulness meditation group like mine and read together The Art of Communicating. It couldn’t hurt.

From the U.S.

 

"We are now deeply concerned by reports of military movements taken by the Russian Federation inside of Ukraine," Obama told reporters in Washington.

"The United States will stand with the international community in affirming that there will be costs for any military intervention in Ukraine."

Any violation of Ukraine's sovereignty and territorial integrity would be "deeply destabilizing," he said.

From Russia

Russia said on Tuesday that it would retaliate if the United States imposed sanctions over Moscow's actions in Ukraine.

"We will have to respond," Foreign Ministry spokesman Alexander Lukashevich said in a statement. "As always in such situations, provoked by rash and irresponsible actions by Washington, we stress: this is not our choice."

"We have frequently explained to the Americans ... why unilateral sanctions do not fit the standards of civilised relations between states," Lukashevich said.

In the meantime, the Guardian’s Shaun Walker reports from Belbek airbase in Crimea:

It may be that the three rapid warning volleys fired into the air at Belbek air base on Tuesday morning are the closest Russia's military manoeuvres in Crimea ever come to actual clashes.

The Russian troops surrounding Ukrainian bases have given a number of ultimatums for soldiers to give up their weapons or defect, but when they have not been met nothing has happened.

At Belbek, outside Sevastopol, the Russians took control over much of the airfield several days ago, but on Tuesday the Ukrainian troops gave their own ultimatum, demanding to be given access to the weapons storage facilities on the base. They marched towards the Russians, unarmed and carrying the Ukrainian flag and a Soviet World War II flag, some of them singing the national anthem.

The Russians fired warning shots and screamed that if they advanced any further the Ukrainians would be shot in the legs. The Ukrainians halted, and gave the Russians until 2pm to let them pass. After another brief standoff at that time, with the Russians again pointing their guns at the Ukrainians, they again turned round.

Read more:

A Mindfully Happy Thanksgiving

In the midst of a difficult "them vs. us" situation in my apartment building lately, I drew on mindfulness teachings and shared the prayer with several involved parties that I say every morning on behalf of myself, family, friends, neighbors, and our building management.

May we release all burdens of guilt, shame, fear, and loss from past trauma that no longer serve us and needless fear and anxiety about the future;

 

May we forgive those who have trespassed against us; and may we be forgiven by those whom we have trespassed against.

 

May we be filled with loving kindness;

May we be protected from all internal and external harm;

May we be as healthy and whole as possible;

May we enjoy both spiritual and material well-being;

May we be centered, peaceful, and at ease;

May we be happy.
 

 I included a favorite quote from Thich Nhat Hanh:

“Our capacity to make peace with another person and with the world depends very much on our capacity to make peace with ourselves…When we have peace within, real dialogue with others is possible.”

May 

May all those who read this post today enjoy an especially happy Thanksgiving.

Bill Clinton at Gay Awards speaks of interdependence

In accepting the Advocate for Change Award at the 24^th Annual GLAAD Media Awards in Los Angeles, Bill Clinton effectively expressed the Buddhist concept of interbeing taught by Thich Nhat Hanh. Clinton said:


“You have helped me come to the place where I am today. That's why you are the true agents of change. But we have all learned in our interdependent society, in our increasingly interdependent world that whenever people anywhere are denied any rights, it diminishes us all. That's why we were so gripped to our television after those bombs exploded at the Boston marathon. That 8-year-old child was our child. And the same is true here.”

Watch Clinton's eloquent support of gay rights:


 
Watch Thich Nhat Hanh explain interbeing:



 

In 2016, Toward a Calmer, More Peaceful New Year

The venerable Thich Nhat Hanh. Photo courtesy of wkuplondon.wordpress.com

Hi friends, I wish you a blessed New Year in 2016, and so it will be if Thich Nhah Hanh touches your life.

I just now enjoyed reviewing previous New Years posts here at Katalusis.  The photo and mention of Thich Nhat Hanh touched my heart today as he recovers from a serious stroke. Plum Village, Thay's retreat center, posted this update on his health recently:

Thay continues to enjoy peaceful and happy moments gazing at the Golden Gate Bridge and making outings to the botanical gardens and other beautiful scenic spots in San Francisco. With the support of a brace on his right leg, Thay has begun to put more weight through the right side of his body and is training to become gradually more independent in terms of balance and standing. He continues to practice walking every day, for several hours per day, with the support of his physiotherapist and monastic attendants, who are receiving expert guidance and training.

Read more at Plum Village:

Please find below my earlier post quoting Thay:

Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk, has long been a powerful advocate for self-compassion. 

TNH advises us to embrace powerful emotions such as anger, jealousy, and addictive cravings instead of igniting a war within ourselves between what we perceive as our positive and negative feelings. 

Through this integrative process, we are better able to center ourselves and respond calmly to whatever arises in our daily lives.

As facilitator of my mindfulness meditation group today, I selected for our reading excerpts from TNH’s article in the Shambala Sun: “Thich Nhat Hanh on Loosening the Knots of Anger:”

To be happy, to me, is to suffer less. If we were not capable of transforming the pain within ourselves, happiness would not be possible.

Many people look for happiness outside themselves, but true happiness must come from inside of us. Our culture tells us that happiness comes from having a lot of money, a lot of power and a high position in society. But if you observe carefully, you will see that many rich and famous people are not happy. Many of them commit suicide.

The Buddha and the monks and nuns of his time did not own anything except their three robes and one bowl. But they were very happy, because they had something extremely precious: freedom.

According to the Buddha's teachings, the most basic condition for happiness is freedom. Here we do not mean political freedom, but freedom from the mental formations of anger, despair, jealousy and delusion. These mental formations are described by the Buddha as poisons. As long as these poisons are still in our heart, happiness can not be possible.

In order to be free from anger, we have to practice, whether we are Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu or Jewish. We cannot ask the Buddha, Jesus, God or Mohammed to take anger out of our hearts for us. There are concrete instructions on how to transform the craving, anger and confusion within us. If we follow these instructions and learn to take good care of our suffering, we can help others do the same.

The Knots of Anger

In our consciousness there are blocks of pain, anger and frustration called internal formations. They are also called knots because they tie us up and obstruct our freedom.

When someone insults us or does something unkind to us, an internal formation is created in our consciousness. If you don't know how to undo the internal knot and transform it, the knot will stay there for a long time. And the next time someone says something or does something to you of the same nature, that internal formation will grow stronger. As knots or blocks of pain in us, our internal formations have the power to push us, to dictate our behavior.

After a while, it becomes very difficult for us to transform, to undo the knots, and we cannot ease the constriction of this crystallized formation. The Sanskrit word for internal formation is samyojana. It means "to crystallize." Every one of us has internal formations that we need to take care of. With the practice of meditation we can undo these knots and experience transformation and healing.

Read more:

A way out of our nation’s violent mindset

With our government’s emphasis since 9/11 on “killing” those we define as our enemies, as opposed to capturing them and bringing them to trial, I continue to post on the worrisome upsurge of violence in our culture.

In the meantime, I practice mindfulness meditation and host a bi-weekly mindfulness meditation group. When we met yesterday afternoon, we read and discussed Dom Roberti’s article, Thich Nhat Hanh: Engaged Buddhism, which offers a way out of the violent mindset plaguing our nation these days. The article concludes:

There are more elaborate forms of Metta (loving kindness), but this simple one is powerful enough. If enough people on earth could reach the state which the loving kindness meditation envisions, there would no longer be any need for war. Put simply, that is what Thich Nhat Hanh's work is all about.

Following the discussion, I presented the following guided meditation on loving kindness, which I found at http://www.buddhamind.info/leftside/lifestyl/medi/medi.htm

STOP FOR A FEW MOMENTS. Sit quietly, with a straight back and gently close your eyes. Feeling the rhythm of the breath as it enters and leaves the body, allow yourself to let go of past and future, and come into the present moment; being with exactly what is – now. 

Bring your attention to the feeling of the body, accepting it just the way it is – with kindness. Allow yourself to accept all the sensations and feelings of the body completely.

Breathe in deeply, with a sense of trust and well-being: breathe out, letting go of tension, allowing any tightness to dissolve. 

Then, focus on the normal breathing; just the feeling of breathing in, breathing out.

Imagine yourself surrounded by light – perhaps a golden-coloured light if you like gold. Being with the sensation of the body breathing in, breathing out, draw the light into the body as you breathe – maybe through the nostrils, the heart or the head. Imagine light saturating the body, through every pore. 

Think to yourself: ‘May this being be well,’ and turn the calming effect of the meditation towards this being: ‘May this being be calm.’ Suffuse your whole body with this calm and kindly attention.

Then, let your awareness explore the body: moving around the head and face, gradually down the neck, the back and the chest, spreading right down the finger-tips; then down the legs, to each toe; drawing on the good energy of the breath, expanding and embracing the heart. 

Focusing more on the out-breath, let go of the memories, the grudges, the grievances; let it all go. Begin again with each breath.

Picture yourself in your mind’s eye as you are now. Make peace with this view of yourself, through forgiveness, compassion, gentleness. ‘May this being be well.’ Suffuse this picture with gentle, warm light from the heart, then let it go. 

Next, picture your parents, let them into your mind. Make peace with their image: ‘May you be well,’ bathing them with soft light, with gratitude.

Observe thoughts arising. Memories of yourself as a child, perhaps something painful or something you have never made peace with. Let it be in the mind, in the light.

Then bring up an image of your daily situation, at home or wherever, with the people it involves. People you like or dislike, feel conflict with, love, fear or worry for. ‘May these beings be well.’ Put aside aversion, fear, worry, guilt; at this moment, allow yourself to be kind.

Think of someone you know who is having a difficult time; send these feelings of kindness towards them. Breathe in light, breathe out wishing them well. 

Gradually open up more and more, from the people you see every day to nobody special; and even those for whom you have hardly a memory. Recognise them as human beings with ambitions, hopes, problems, anxieties, joy – just like you! Give them some life in your perceptions. 

And, even more remote, acknowledge all the people you can conceive of in this world. This may be a faint feeling, but open up the heart to allow them into consciousness, to be felt. See what the mind does, how it reacts indignantly about some people – such as political figures. Let go of that indignation for this moment. Allow a sense of peace to envelop all beings: the liked, the disliked, familiar and unfamiliar. 

And then imagine the planet Earth as seen from space. Extend this sense of peace to the planet we live on, embracing it with your heart, surrounding it with light. 

Turning your attention to that sense of peace and light allow it to expand outwards, without limit, letting the sense of ‘me’ and ‘the world’ dissolve in the stillness of the present. Then turn your attention back in towards itself; upon the feeling of knowing ‘the screen of the mind’, the place where images arise. Let it be quite empty or full, choiceless, being illuminated by the soft light from the heart, light from the breath; warm, gentle; beginning, letting go, patient kindness. 

Gently come back to the rhythm of the breath, and when you are ready, slowly open your eyes.

Wall Street Occupiers integrate militant liberation theology with the potency of process theology

Photo courtesy of yesmagazine.org

All I could say this morning upon reading visiting Harvard Islamic Society chaplain, Nuri Friedlander’s post, From Tahrir to Wall Street: The Role of Religion in Protest Movements was “Amen and amen!”

Friedlander beautifully integrates the energy of liberation theology that can spark revolutions with the peace-making power of process theology, which eschews the use of force, and the result is what Thomas Merton and his close friend Thich Nhat Hanh would call “engaged spirituality.”

Friedlander concludes with words that would gladden the hearts of leading process theologians:

It is by rejecting the narrative that religions are fighting each other, and that reason is fighting faith, that we will disarm those forces that truly stand in the way of our success, and we will enable ourselves to co-create a more just society, one that thrives in its diversity, and revels in its singularity.

Read the entire article here.

Another Al Quaeda leader murdered in America’s permanent robotic global war

Anwar Al-Awlaki

The Obama Administration is celebrating this morning the murder of yet another Al Quaeda leader, U.S. born Anwar Al-Awlaki, who had been operating from Yemen. 

Although it took a crew of Navy Seals to execute Osama bin Laden, American forces reportedly took out Al-Awlaki with a drone attack on a convoy in which he was traveling. 

But hold on: the AP reports that civil liberties groups are questioning our government’s authority to kill an American without trial.

We have to ask ourselves, where and when will the violence come to an end. In a post here several years ago, I quoted Vietnamese Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh, who, in his book, Calming the Fearful Mind: a Zen Response to Terrorism, wrote:

Many of us claim to be disciples of the Buddha, of Jesus Christ, of Mohammed, but we don’t listen to their teachings. Hatred cannot overcome hatred. Violence cannot overcome violence. The bible, the Koran, the Torah, and the Sutras teach us that. But we don’t always believe in our spiritual path. We must think that our spiritual teachings are not realistic, because we have put so much faith in military and financial power. We think that money and weapons can make us strong. But our country has a lot of weapons and a lot of money and we are still very afraid and insecure.

America’s love affair with drones as our weapon of choice in the so-called war on terror, both abroad and possibly here at home, is evidence of our escalating fear and insecurity. 

Tom Engelhardt offers a chilling post on the latest in guarding the empire:

In the world of weaponry, they are the sexiest things around.  Others countries are desperate to have them.  Almost anyone who writes about them becomes a groupie.  Reporters exploring their onrushing future swoon at their potentially wondrous techno-talents.  They are, of course, the pilotless drones, our grimly named Predators and Reapers

As CIA Director, Leon Panetta called them “the only game in town.”  As Secretary of Defense, Robert Gates pushed hard to up their numbers and increase their funding drastically.  The U.S. Air Force is already training more personnel to become drone “pilots” than to pilot actual planes.  You don’t need it in skywriting to know that, as icons of American-style war, they are clearly in our future -- and they’re even heading for the homeland as police departments clamor for them. 

Read more:

The Phelps band and the dark side of religion

As noted in a previous post, the United States Supreme Court recently supported the right of the Westboro Baptist Church to harass grieving parents of sons and daughters who died in combat.

Making a mockery of the First Amendment, the Court’s decision legitimized the anti-gay hate speech spouted by Marjie J. Phelps and her father, Fred Phelps, leader and counsel for the Westboro Baptist Church.

The Phelps band is notorious for violating the privacy of suffering military families by parading around funeral sites with their brightly colored signs thanking God for dead soldiers and declaring that God hates fags.

Ignoring the fact that psychologists agree that a percentage of the population is born gay and are therefore God’s creations, Ms. Phelps and company continually project their own violent nature onto divinity. Quoted in the Huffington Post, Ms. Phelps said:

"Let me tell you what this church does: Shut up all that talk about infliction of emotional distress," Phelps said, in response to the claim by Albert Snyder, father of slain marine Matthew Snyder, which had provided the impetus for the lawsuit. "When you're standing there with your young child's body bits and pieces in a coffin, you've been dealt some emotional distress by the Lord your God."

 The Phelps band are not the first to accuse God of unspeakable crimes against humanity and all of nature – in the Abrahamic traditions the practice goes back to antiquity. One Sunday last April, I dropped in at a local Islamic Center for a monthly Muslim-Christian dialog. The topic for discussion that afternoon was “Sacrifice.”

From the Christian side came numerous Older Testament references to animal sacrifices, which the presenters indicated would eventually culminate in the crucifixion of Jesus as the Lamb of God to redeem humanity from the curse of original sin.

A Muslim presenter told stories of martyrdom in his tradition featuring the brutal deaths of a male slave and of a woman who refused to deny Mohammed’s message. According to the narrator, the woman’s accusers tied her legs to two camels that pulled her body apart.

Another Muslim contributed a tale of human sacrifice in which a man abandoned his wife and infant to die alone in the desert in obedience to what he believed was God’s will.

The following Monday morning, still overdosed by the previous afternoon’s exposure to violence in religion, I found no respite in the daily news.

The Associated Press reported: “A senior Iranian cleric says women who wear revealing clothing and behave promiscuously are to blame for earthquakes.” (Men were given no responsibility for controlling their sexual impulses.)

The article noted that Iran is a nation prone to earthquakes.

So, I thought, along with Pat Robertson, a Christian, who blamed God for the recent devastation of Haiti, the Islamic cleric, Hojatoleslam Kazem Sedighi, also charges divinity with periodic mass murder to keep humankind in line, not to mention the collateral damage to other species.

The statements of Robertson and Sedighi confirm yet again that a literal understanding of horrific stories in ancient scripture continues to influence the judgment of religious leaders and laity.

A quick sampling of the charges against God in the Bible includes the following heinous crimes against humanity: mass murder (Gen. 6-9); infanticide (Ex. 12:12); and torture - consider the fires of hell where the unsaved are reportedly condemned for eternity (Rev. 20: 9-15).

It bears repeating: how we human beings understand ourselves in relationship to God informs how we understand ourselves in all of our relationships: to ourselves, to one another, and to the natural world.

It follows that the Phelps band, in its zealous hatred of gays and anyone else who might differ from them in one respect or another, would project onto God their desire to destroy those whom they’ve chosen to marginalize.

Some of us, taking our cues from the teachings of the non-violent Jesus, Gandhi, Thich Nhat Hanh and other widely respected religious leaders agree that in making decisions, both large and small, a loving God eschews violence and instead, invites us toward the path most beneficial for all of life.

Where does that leave the Phelps band? The religious leaders noted in the above paragraph urge us to cultivate compassion even for those who spew hatred toward others.  In the process, we are called to provide a buffer zone between Westboro Baptist and its targets. Hopefully, we can influence this misguided congregation and other haters to give up their perverted notions of religion and move toward fulfilling our covenant to love others as God first loved us.

A Buddhist monk’s antidote to the violence in American politics

Rep. Gabrielle Giffords was shot in AZ Saturday, photo courtesy of her website.

In July 2004, the Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh began his address to the US Congress, published online in the Shamabala Sun, with these words:

Distinguished members of Congress, ladies and gentlemen, dear friends, it is my pleasure to have this opportunity to talk with you about how we can share our insight, our compassion and our understanding in order to better serve those we want to serve and help heal the wounds that have divided our nation and the world.

In the aftermath of the outbreak of violence in Arizona yesterday, it might be wise to keep Nhat Hanh’s words in mind while reading this NY Times article by Carl Hulse and Kate  Zernike on the increasing vitriol in our national discourse:

WASHINGTON — The shooting of Representative Gabrielle Giffords and others at a neighborhood meeting in Arizona on Saturday set off what is likely to be a wrenching debate over anger and violence in American politics.

While the exact motivations of the suspect in the shootings remained unclear, an Internet site tied to the man, Jared Lee Loughner, contained antigovernment ramblings. And regardless of what led to the episode, it quickly focused attention on the degree to which inflammatory language, threats and implicit instigations to violence have become a steady undercurrent in the nation’s political culture.

Read more:

A Long-Term Strategy in the War on Terror

In the aftermath of the Christmas Day terrorist attempt, which the president has linked to Al Quaeda, the Obama Administration justifiably scrambles to strengthen security measures. In the meantime, concerned citizens might be wise to look at promising long-term religious and spiritual resources in responding to the ongoing war on terror.

For example, process theology offers bridges between major world religions, science and religion, religion and spirituality, and across societal divides such as gender, sexual preference, race, and ethnic origin.

A post-Einsteinian, post-Jungian worldview, process theology emerged from the musings of Alfred North Whitehead, a noted mathematician who pursued interests in philosophy and science - even quantum physics. As one might expect, process theology is not antithetical to established scientific principles, and it remains open to new discoveries and insights in both science and religion.

Read More:

Being Peace in the Midst of the Global Financial Meltdown

Photo by Virginia Bergman

Every day the stories in the media become more heart-rending: jobs have been lost; mortgages have been foreclosed; and not just individuals, but entire families have suddenly become homeless, trying to survive by living in their cars and using the public restrooms in parks.

Then comes Tom Edsall’s article in the Huffington Post declaring the affluent the big winners in the stimulus package. That’s all we needed to hear, right?

In my judgment, we all need a time out from rancorous politics; the depraved moronic behavior of Wall Street barons and Corporate CEOs; and a pandering media.

In the year 2000, Jack Kornfield, Buddhist monk and clinical psychologist, wrote words that have validity today:

“We live in disordered times, complicated, distracted, and demanding, yet to sustain a spiritual practice demands our steady attention. The first task, then, in almost any spiritual voyage, is to quiet ourselves enough to listen to the voices of our hearts, to listen to that which is beyond our daily affairs…we need to step out of our usual roles, out of the busy days on automatic pilot.”

Mindfulness meditation can help break the habit of living our lives on automatic pilot, but it’s hard to do alone.

Yesterday I responded to an impulse that’s been begging me to act for several months; I issued an invitation to neighbors, friends and acquaintances to join me in forming a Sangha or spiritual community.

We’ll gather regularly to read and discuss writings by spiritual leaders such as Kornfield, Thich Nhat Hanh, and the Dalai Lama. We’ll set aside time to share our personal spiritual journeys, and we’ll conclude our time together by practicing mindfulness meditation.

We’ll hold our meetings in one of several community rooms in my apartment building here in the Twin Cities. I envision our gatherings as an opportunity for spiritual growth in a peaceful and nurturing environment.

I will also keep in mind Thich Nhat Hanh’s question in his book Being Peace: “What is the use of practicing meditation if it does not have anything to do with our daily lives?”

Thay also said:

Aware that the essence and aim of a Sangha is the practice of understanding and compassion, we are determined not to use the Buddhist community for personal gain or profit or transform our community into a political instrument. A spiritual community should, however, take a clear stand against oppression and injustice and should strive to change the situation without engaging in partisan conflicts.

This does not mean that we must be silent about injustice. It just means we should do it with awareness and not take sides. We should speak the truth and not just weigh the political consequences. If we take sides, we will lose our power to help mediate the conflict.

It’s my hope that our Sangha will heal and energize its members that we might transcend politics to speak the truth and take leadership roles in making peace in our families, our neighborhoods, and in the wider world.

Sexual Responsibility and Patriarchal Structures

My Unitarian-Universalist fellowship’s book group is currently reading Thich Nhat Hanh’s For a Possible Future, first published in 1993 by the Unified Buddhist Church. Considering that a major theme in my posts at Katalusis since its inception in August 2007 has been women’s rights, I was deeply moved by the modern day relevance of Buddhism’s Third Mindfulness Training, which addresses sexual responsibility, followed by Sulak Sivaraksa’s comment on patriarchal structures.

The Third Mindfulness Training:

Aware of the suffering caused by sexual misconduct, I vow to cultivate responsibility and learn ways to protect the safety and integrity of individuals, couples, families and society. I am determined not to engage in sexual relations without love and a long-term commitment. To preserve the happiness of myself and others, I am determined to respect my commitments and the commitments of others. I will do everything in my power to protect children from sexual abuse and to prevent couples and families from being broken by sexual misconduct.

Sivaraksa wrote:

‘“We have to look at the structures of male dominance and the exploitation of women worldwide. The structures of patriarchal greed, hatred, and delusion are interrelated with the violence in the world. Modern militarism is also closely associated with patriarchy. Buddhist practice points toward the development of full and balanced human beings, free from the socially-learned “masculine” and “feminine” patterns of thought, speech, and behavior, in touch with both aspects of themselves.”’

For a Possible Future presents each of the five mindfulness trainings followed by Thich Nhat Hanh’s commentary.

Resolved in 2009: "Deep Listening and Loving Speech"

Vietnamese Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh

Reading Vietnamese Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh this New Year’s morning, I came across the perfect resolution in 2009 for all those interested in improving their communication skills and especially representatives of the mainstream media and the blogosphere.

Deep Listening and Loving Speech is the fourth of the five mindfulness trainings:

Aware of the suffering caused by unmindful speech and the inability to listen to others, I vow to cultivate loving speech and deep listening in order to bring joy and happiness to others and relieve others of their suffering. Knowing that words can create happiness or suffering, I vow to learn to speak truthfully with words that inspire self-confidence, joy, and hope. I am determined not to spread news that I do not know to be certain and not to criticize or condemn things of which I am not sure. I will refrain from uttering words that can cause division or discord, or that can cause the family or the community to break. I will make all efforts to reconcile and resolve all conflicts, however small.

A safe and happy new year to all Katalusis readers,

Virginia

“This Homeland Is As Beautiful As The Homeland Of Our Childhood”

Photo by Virginia Bergman

It’s been my pleasure in recent weeks to hear from several friends and acquaintances who have found the ancient Buddhist prayer in the upper right hand corner of Katalusis to be helpful in getting through these difficult times.

I’ve included this revised version of the “loving kindness” prayer in my morning ritual of journaling, reading spiritual writings, and several minutes of meditation for some time now.

The roots of my faith are in Christianity, but as I’ve matured I’ve gladly extended branches to many other traditions. It’s my belief that if we are ever to know world peace, we must learn to transcend religious differences. My faith continues to be deepened and enriched by the insights of others from around the globe.

For spiritual nourishment, I’m currently re-reading Thich Nhat Hanh’s The Miracle of Mindfulness. This morning between recording my dreams from the night in my daily journal and a short period of meditation, I read TNH’s instructions for practicing a full day of mindfulness at least once a week.

I love the notion of doing simple household tasks “slowly and evenly without reluctance,” becoming one with our work while dusting the book shelves, freshening a bouquet of flowers, or preparing a meal.

Being mindful, I’ve learned, means being fully awake and alive in the present moment instead of chronically brooding over the past or fretting about the future.

The eternal now is a good place to be.

Here’s a poem from today’s reading in The Miracle of Mindfulness:

Be a bud sitting quietly in the hedge
Be a smile, one part of wondrous existence
Stand here. There is no need to depart.
This homeland is as beautiful as the homeland of our childhood
Do not harm it, please, and continue to sing…

(Butterfly Over the Field of Golden Mustard Flowers)

Peace be with all who come here.

Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Year’s: Honoring Light in a Dark Season

Photo credits: Ceile Hartleib

In the midst of decorating my home for Christmas this weekend, I easily empathized with those described in Jan Hoffman’s NY Times article, The Holidays Downsized: No Job and Fewer Gifts. As I mentioned in an earlier post, my family and friends have not been untouched by the global financial crisis.

Several among my acquaintances have lost their jobs in recent months, even before the nation’s leaders acknowledged we’d slipped into a recession. Others have had their hours cut or pensions reduced due to the plummeting stock market.

Hoffman’s article in the Times begins:

“SUSAN McCABE liked to go all out for Christmas. Presents for friends and 17 relatives: high-end cameras for adults, Nintendo Wii for the children. On Christmas Eve, she proudly treated the immediate family to dinner at romantic white tablecloth restaurants in Manhattan. Sticker shock? Ms. McCabe, who sold eco-friendly technology, wouldn’t blink twice.

“But in September, the start-up company she worked for went belly up. “A restaurant dinner? All those presents?

‘“Out of the question,” said Ms. McCabe, who is scrambling to make the rent on her Manhattan apartment. “And that really bothers me.”’

As dire as the above sounds, Hoffman interweaves an uplifting spiritual motif throughout the stories she tells of how people like the McCabes are coping with adversity this holiday season. The spiritual shines through in a family’s decision to return to the customs of a previous generation or simply refocusing on the deeper meaning of symbols related to Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, or the celebration of New Year’s, all of which, as Hoffman points out, “honor light in a dark season.”

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’m finding my own spiritual nourishment lately through a revised early morning routine at my kitchen table that includes journaling, reading a chapter or two of Thich Nhat Hanh’s Going Home: Jesus and Buddha Are Brothers, and meditating for a few minutes.

Thich Nhat Hanh is A Vietnamese Buddhist who practices meditation in Plum Village, a retreat center in southwestern France. Here’s an excerpt from today’s reading:

“This evening, December twenty-fourth, we shall practice sitting meditation together. The sitting today is very special because after fifteen minutes we will begin to hear the sound of the church bells in northern Russia. We will sit very silently and we will listen to the bells of an Orthodox Church in northern Russia for about twenty minutes. We shall be sitting together silently, solidly like a mountain and free like the air. We will allow the sound of the church bell to touch the seeds of solidity and joy within us. If you do well, the seeds of joy, of love, and peace will begin to bloom like flowers in the fields of your hearts. You may have a chance to discover the true nature of the bell."

Thich Nhat Hanh continues:

“The sound of the bell in the Buddhist temple, the sound of the bell in an Orthodox Church, in a Catholic Church, and in a Protestant Church, their nature is the same.”

Peace be with you this evening, my friends, wherever you are and whatever your circumstances.

_____________________

P.S.

If you'd like to share how you and your family are coping with adversity this holiday season, please leave a comment below.

Sidelined with a Knee Injury, a Few Reflections the Sunday before Thanksgiving

Photo credits: Photo by Virginia Bergman

A knee injury prompted me to skip church this morning and after my daily ritual of journaling, reading Vietnamese Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh, and meditating for a few minutes, I gladly went back to bed and dozed for an additional two or three hours.

Since getting up the second time, I’ve been mostly just lounging around and taking it easy. Sometimes doing nothing is the wiser choice, resting both the body and the spirit.

Today is an island of repose between the rewards and the demands of the previous week and preparing the family Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. I’ve already got all the important supplies on hand, including a turkey, cranberry sauce, and watermelon pickles. The watermelon pickles have been essential to our Thanksgiving dinner menu for several decades.

I once had a tendency on these occasions to get myself unnecessarily stressed out. Not in recent years, though. The readings of John Kabat Zinn, Thich Nhat Hanh, and other meditation gurus have instructed me in the art of mindfulness meditation – a practice that encourages concentration on one thing at a time and an appreciation for the present moment.

That’s great, you might think, for more fully experiencing the joys of the holiday season and family get-togethers, but what does mindfulness meditation have to do with hosting a political opinion blog?

I’m not sure yet. But I’ve been thinking about how to integrate my meditation practice with my blogging, and I gained a few insights from this morning’s review of the Five Mindfulness Trainings as presented in Thich Nhat Hanh’s book, Going Home: Jesus and Buddha as Brothers.

The Fourth Mindfulness Training, which deals with mindful speaking and listening, hit home:

"Aware of the suffering caused by unmindful speech and the inability to listen to others, I am committed to cultivating loving speech and deep listening in order to bring joy and happiness to others and relieve others of their suffering. Knowing that words can create happiness or suffering, I am committed to learn to speak truthfully with words that inspire self-confidence, joy and hope. I am determined not to spread news that I do not know to be certain and not to criticize or condemn things of which I am not sure. I will refrain from uttering words that can cause division or discord or that can cause the family or the community to split apart. I will make every effort to reconcile all conflicts however small."

In speaking of the Fourth Mindfulness Training, Thich Nhat Hanh suggests that we take up this practice and encourage its use in the family, in the city, and in the nation. How about if we add the blogosphere to the list?

P.S.

My knee feels a lot better this evening.

Reading Thich Nhat Hanh During a Summer Power Outage

Yesterday morning, I awoke early to enjoy as usual that first cup of rich coffee while the rest of my neighborhood sleeps. I live on the fourth floor of a large apartment building. Lately, I’ve had to run the air conditioner during the day and several fans at night to keep my home comfortably cool. This Fourth of July weekend was no different, and I’d grown accustomed to the hum of fans and other electrical appliances when I sat down at my computer to read the comics and scan the day’s online news coverage.

Suddenly, my computer sighed and briefly revived before shutting down completely; fans slowed to a stop; and an eerie silence confirmed the power had gone off in my building.

I felt dismay at first, realizing the elevators were now inoperative and even if I walked down four flights of stairs, I might not be able to gain entry to the indoor parking garage, find my car in the dark, and exit through the remote-controlled door.

In the meantime, dawn had come, and I knew we were in for another hot day. There’s nothing like a power outage to remind one of how dependent we are on electricity. I walked around aimlessly at first trying to decide what to do next.

I picked up a book by Vietnamese Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh that I’ve been reading off and on lately while taking an occasional break at the indoor park and coffee shop adjoining my local branch library. Going Home, Jesus and Buddha as Brothers is the fourth or fifth book I’ve read by TNH over the past year or so, and I’ve continued to be astonished by his wisdom. In the light from the window, I read:

“Mindfulness has been described as the heart of Buddhist meditation. Mindfulness is to be there, alive in the present moment, body and mind united. It is the capacity of being there in order to live deeply every moment of your daily life. You are mindful when you walk, when you drink your tea, while sitting with your friends, your brother, and your teacher. You notice that the moments when you are with him or her are precious moments. You are aware that drinking tea with the Sangha is a wonderful thing. All these things are manifestations of the presence of mindfulness. Mindfulness is to become completely alive and live deeply each moment of your daily life. Mindfulness helps you to touch the wonders of life for self-nourishment and healing It also helps you to embrace and transform your afflictions into joy and freedom.”

I was still reading and reflecting on the words of Thich Nhat Hanh a couple of hours later when the power came back on, and the hum of appliances broke the silence. I felt a twinge of regret as I put my book aside and resumed my daily routine.

The Sacred Act of Breathing In and Breathing Out

We define and sustain ourselves in community. And whether introverts or extroverts, we’re most likely to experience growth in the midst of our relationships with others.

I participate in community in several areas of my life including my neighborhood, my Unitarian-Universalist fellowship, the seminary I once attended, old friends, my political party, and sometimes even out here on the World Wide Web.

But whatever the community, the stimulus toward growth can sometimes touch tender spots in the depths of our souls. I noticed a little sensitivity in my own soul last Sunday morning as I listened to our speaker talk about forgiveness.

Both the presentation and follow-up discussion were far ranging, from the need for forgiveness between tribal entities and nations at war to the road to recovery for innocent victims of domestic abuse. We agreed that when the victim’s emotional or physical health is at risk, forgiveness does not necessitate reconciliation.

It seemed to me later on that we’d spoken mainly from the perspective of those needing to forgive, rather than from those in need of forgiveness. And as I recall, the difficulty of a child forgiving a parent was mentioned more often than any other relationship.

As one who has lived out the dual roles of parent and child, I’ve experienced from both directions the necessity to forgive and the longing for forgiveness with its heavy burden of unresolved grief.

Mending relationships is a particular gift of Vietnamese Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh, whose writing is accessible and useful to most readers, regardless of their backgrounds. As mentioned by our speaker last Sunday, Hanh’s book titled Anger teaches the path to forgiveness and “being peace” under the most difficult circumstances.

It seems obvious that we should avoid confrontation when anger is rising within us, but not so obvious are the careful instructions Hanh provides for using mindfulness energy to first privately quench the flames of outrage before attempting to communicate with a loved one.

Hanh tells the story of a young man named David whose behavior has alienated everyone in his life, including family and friends. Now David is entirely alone. He begins communicating with the mythical Angelina who is both beautiful and loving, but eventually, she, too, abandons him. Finally, the young man looks deeply within himself where he finds insight and compassion as he recognizes the damage he has caused to the people around him.

Mindfulness meditation can allow us to examine how we’ve treated the Angelinas in our own lives, whether a friend, parent, child, other relative, or anyone else, to discover why things are deteriorating, Hanh explains. He goes on to say that meditation can tell us exactly what to do and what not to do to relieve mutual suffering and restore harmony.

Wherever we happen to be in one or more troubled relationships, there may still be hope. Hanh advises us to continue meditating, even when communication has been cut off for years, listening deeply to ourselves and taking responsibility for our own actions. He also suggests that we focus the healing power of mindfulness energy on the injured child we carry within each of our own hearts.

So it was last Sunday morning that I took away from our gathering a whisper of hope and a renewed commitment to continue the sacred act of mindfully breathing in and breathing out, while putting one foot ahead of the other on the path to forgiveness and long-awaited reconciliation.

A Matter of Time

Up here in the northern hemisphere, we’ll mark the autumnal equinox this Sunday when the sun heads south across the celestial equator, and the hours of daylight and darkness become nearly equal.

My son Steve is coming for dinner this evening (his wife Nancy is out of town), and the already shorter days and cooler nights demand a pot of spicy chili, salad greens, and fresh-baked apple pie.

Good smells from the kitchen distract me from my work as I sit here at my computer. And I’m thinking if I get time, I’ll run out and get a chunk of cheese and some wine to add to our feast. Wait a minute, I remind myself, I’m in charge here, and my computer can nap until I get back.

I pull out of the parking garage into an early fall afternoon with temps in the low 70s, blue skies, and blinding sunlight. A few trees flaunt newly dyed yellow leaves from among the still mostly green groves along my route.

The supermarket is busy but in no time at all I’ve paid for my cheese and dashed to the neighborhood liquor store for a bottle of red wine. I then stop by the library to return a couple of books I borrowed before the season shifted on Labor Day from the more relaxed pace of summer to the early signs of autumn when kids return to school, Unitarian-Universalists return to church, and Congress returns to Washington.

“The ticking of the clock is the normal measure of experience,” James Carroll reminded us at the beginning of this too rapidly waning year. He said, “You usually move through this sequencing, the way a fish moves through water, unaware of the realm in which you have your being.”

But there’s a difference between the fish and us, Carroll continued: “You can notice the water. Your water is time, but noticing the water is how you swim. The future and the past exist only in your minds, but that does not mean they are not real…we are bodies moving through the world, but our real movement is through the temporal stream of consciousness.”

Mindfulness meditation has taught me how to slow time down as I move though my own temporal stream of consciousness. From the writings of Jon Kabbat-Zinn and Thich Nhat Hanh, I’ve learned to navigate through memories of the past and make imaginative forays into the future while relying on my breathing to anchor me in this present moment.

Slowing time down is no small achievement for one conditioned by the demands of journalism to continually hustle to meet the next deadline. But on this day, I’ve mindfully arranged the bouquet of flowers I picked up at the supermarket, set out the wine glasses, and stirred the chili simmering on the stove.

When all is ready, I turn on the news to catch glimpses of the war-ravaged citizens of Iraq, and I wonder how they experience their movement through time lacking even the most basic necessities of safe drinking water and electricity, while their daily life is disrupted by exploding I.E.D.s and random bursts of gunfire from American troops and/or Blackwater Security Guards.

Not surprisingly, the most recent polls show a majority of Iraqis want Americans out of there like yesterday.

I turn off the TV when the phone rings from the lobby announcing Steve’s arrival. We enjoy our dinner together in the warm atmosphere of home, reminiscing a bit here and there and in contrast to our civilian Iraqi counterparts, speaking confidently of tomorrow.

Loading the dishwasher after Steve leaves, I realize I’ve been unable to completely dispel the ugly shadow of war cast by the evening news.

You could say it’s just a matter of time, but precisely how and when this administration will find the wisdom and courage to admit its mistakes and end our occupation of Iraq is anyone’s guess.