"It's message is one of simplicity, service of mankind, living so as not to hurt others..." - 'To American Friends,' Young India, 17 Sept. 1925
For most of his life, Gandhi spent a portion of nearly everyday spinning yarn and weaving his own clothes. He began this discipline in the early 1920's as part of his swadeshi movement. The idea was two fold. One, to deny the British income from the sale of foreign made products. The second, and more important, idea was to help the poor in India reclaim some independence and dignity by resurrecting a cottage industry, an industry that every Indian could participate in.
When I looked for pictures, I found the classic iconic photos and videos of Gandhi himself sitting at a spinning wheel. There were also photos of large spinning wheel gatherings with hundreds and perhaps thousands of Indians spinning. I could think of nothing comparable in this country.
Simplicity, service, living so as not to hurt others. These are not concepts I understand well.
Simplicity - There's a photo of the few possessions that Gandhi owned when he died. A couple of bowls, glasses, a prayer book, a couple pairs of sandals, a watch, wooden fork and spoon, porcelain monkeys, diary, spittoon, letter opener. I think about what I own. A home, two cars, three computers, five cell phones, dozens of other electric and electronic devices, many, many books, hundreds of pounds of furniture, more clothes than I will ever wear, photos, knick-knacks, bric-a-brac, what-nots, dodads, and thingamabobs galore. There more stuff in my attic and garage, most of which I use only rarely if at all. And my friends think I live simply
Service - Here I am not so bad. I'm a foster parent to two teenager girls and a third now emancipated attending college. I am a member of a twelve step recovery program and I help new members get a good start. I keep my eyes open for opportunities to assist friends and strangers with tasks large and small. I could do more.
Living So As Not To Hurt Others - I could talk about the food I eat or the trash I generate and the list of failures would be long. There are many other areas of my life where I don't live so as not to hurt others, but the one that always jumps out at me is my mode of transportation, my cars. This needs a post all its own. Check back tomorrow.
31 January 2011
28 January 2011
Labor Discussions
I spoke with a friend yesterday about what I had read in The Essential Writings of Mahatma Gandhi concerning manual labor, about the dignity of physical work. My friend has spent many years as a labor organizer and for some years before that was an history professor. My friend is a very learned man and has read all the great labor organizers of the Twentieth Century.
He was fine, in theory, with Gandhi's ideas. "They should be a great family living in unity and harmony, capital not only looking to the material welfare of the labourers but their moral welfare also, - capitalists being the trustees for the welfare of the labouring classes under them." He said, however, that this rarely happened.
As I watch the news in this country, I hear big business people talking about being responsible to their share holders, but never their workers. That means being responsible to profits. To squeezing every dollar out of the bottom line. If there is more money to be made assembling widgets in Mexico because labor is cheaper, throw the American worker out on the street.
And while Gandhi, himself, was certainly "a scavenger, weaver, spinner, farmer and what not," he was also a writer and publisher. He wrote ninety volumes. Ninety volumes is no small intellectual effort. He published newspapers. Hardly manual labor. He was a member of Parliament. He gave speeches. Identifying with labor, yes. A laborer, no.
But my friend's point was that the relationship between capital and labor has almost always been contentious and often, capital has been exploitive of labor. I mean, that's what started the labor movement in this country.
And what is redemptive or spiritual about putting Slot A in Tab B hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, whether or not you are being exploited. I've done these jobs. When I thought I was doing something good, helping teens or protecting the nation or just earning money for my wife and child, I could sustain my spirit, but even then, eventually...I felt ground down, not lifted up. Probably my own failings.
And why does Gandhi and so many other spiritual people down grade mental labor? Why is getting my hands dirty more valued?
And yet, every time I am served by a waitperson at any kind of a food facility, I remember the work my wife did for our family, serving food in a cheap diner, with love and gratitude and I tip my server generously.
It's a confusing subject.
He was fine, in theory, with Gandhi's ideas. "They should be a great family living in unity and harmony, capital not only looking to the material welfare of the labourers but their moral welfare also, - capitalists being the trustees for the welfare of the labouring classes under them." He said, however, that this rarely happened.
As I watch the news in this country, I hear big business people talking about being responsible to their share holders, but never their workers. That means being responsible to profits. To squeezing every dollar out of the bottom line. If there is more money to be made assembling widgets in Mexico because labor is cheaper, throw the American worker out on the street.
And while Gandhi, himself, was certainly "a scavenger, weaver, spinner, farmer and what not," he was also a writer and publisher. He wrote ninety volumes. Ninety volumes is no small intellectual effort. He published newspapers. Hardly manual labor. He was a member of Parliament. He gave speeches. Identifying with labor, yes. A laborer, no.
But my friend's point was that the relationship between capital and labor has almost always been contentious and often, capital has been exploitive of labor. I mean, that's what started the labor movement in this country.
And what is redemptive or spiritual about putting Slot A in Tab B hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, whether or not you are being exploited. I've done these jobs. When I thought I was doing something good, helping teens or protecting the nation or just earning money for my wife and child, I could sustain my spirit, but even then, eventually...I felt ground down, not lifted up. Probably my own failings.
And why does Gandhi and so many other spiritual people down grade mental labor? Why is getting my hands dirty more valued?
And yet, every time I am served by a waitperson at any kind of a food facility, I remember the work my wife did for our family, serving food in a cheap diner, with love and gratitude and I tip my server generously.
It's a confusing subject.
27 January 2011
A Scavenger, Weaver, Spinner, Farmer, and What Not
I'm a chess player. I've been watching the Wijk ann Zee Chess Tournament sponsored this year by Tata Steel currently being held in the Netherlands and what do I read in The Essential Writings of Gandhi this morning? A speech Gandhi gave at the Indian Association on 8 August 1925 about his visit to the Tata Steel plant in Jamshedpur, India.
Gandhi describes himself as a "labourer." "There is a great Latin saying of which the meaning is 'to labour is to pray', and on of the finest writers of Europe has said that a man is not entitled to eat unless he labours, and by labour, he does not mean labour with the intellect, he means labour with the hands."
I have been a laborer (a jet mechanic, a lawn mower, a bicycle repairer, a roofer, a cook, a housekeeper) and have sometimes described myself that way, but I have never taken pride in it as Gandhi did. I've always felt that it was somehow demeaning. That truly intelligent people sat on the rears and thought for a living. Intelligent people manipulated data and information to make their daily bread. That somehow, at the end of the day, if my hands and clothes were dirty, I had failed as a breadwinner.
My parents dreamed of me having a college education and working with my mind and not struggling with my brawn. This is not to blame them. I did not want to be a laborer. I did not want to work with my hands.
How many Americans felt like my parents did, feel like I do? And we wonder why immigrants clean our bathrooms. We wonder why jobs in Detroit are now in Mexico. We wonder why China and India are now overtaking our economy.
I live in a community with many immigrants. I often see the small business owners out in front of their shops sweeping and washing the public sidewalk. They have pride.
Am I entitled to eat today?
Gandhi describes himself as a "labourer." "There is a great Latin saying of which the meaning is 'to labour is to pray', and on of the finest writers of Europe has said that a man is not entitled to eat unless he labours, and by labour, he does not mean labour with the intellect, he means labour with the hands."
I have been a laborer (a jet mechanic, a lawn mower, a bicycle repairer, a roofer, a cook, a housekeeper) and have sometimes described myself that way, but I have never taken pride in it as Gandhi did. I've always felt that it was somehow demeaning. That truly intelligent people sat on the rears and thought for a living. Intelligent people manipulated data and information to make their daily bread. That somehow, at the end of the day, if my hands and clothes were dirty, I had failed as a breadwinner.
My parents dreamed of me having a college education and working with my mind and not struggling with my brawn. This is not to blame them. I did not want to be a laborer. I did not want to work with my hands.
How many Americans felt like my parents did, feel like I do? And we wonder why immigrants clean our bathrooms. We wonder why jobs in Detroit are now in Mexico. We wonder why China and India are now overtaking our economy.
I live in a community with many immigrants. I often see the small business owners out in front of their shops sweeping and washing the public sidewalk. They have pride.
Am I entitled to eat today?
25 January 2011
Praxis
In the early 90's, non-violence was just a theory for me. Less than a theory. It was an idea that my friends and my spiritual community sometimes mentioned.
Then my sister living in Denver called. She wanted to leave the abusive relationship she was in and asked if she could move in with my wife and I. We agreed.
The man followed her. He threatened her, he threatened us, he threatened our Episcopal community.
Non-violence could no longer be a just an idea. Violence hid in the bushes. Literally.
For weeks, we studied, we talked, we trained to prepare for a non-violent response to my sister's abuser. Our community held meetings and we had professionals guide us and help us practice scenarios. We wanted to find a way to quell our fears and have options thought out as much as we could.
There was never any violence. After a few half hearted attempts to talk to my sister, the man gave up and disappeared, but my mind had been stirred by the days and nights of preparation.
I began to examine my life through the lens of non-violence. The examination shed light on many areas of my life where violence was inherent in the choices I made...The choices I make. The food I eat, my mode of transportation, the way I dispose of waste, the way I spend my time and my treasure, is often, too often, violent or supported by violence.
I can't change it all at once. Some of it will probably never change, but one of Gandhi's favorite quotes was from a hymn written by John Henry Newman, a Catholic Priest. "One step enough for me."
Then my sister living in Denver called. She wanted to leave the abusive relationship she was in and asked if she could move in with my wife and I. We agreed.
The man followed her. He threatened her, he threatened us, he threatened our Episcopal community.
Non-violence could no longer be a just an idea. Violence hid in the bushes. Literally.
For weeks, we studied, we talked, we trained to prepare for a non-violent response to my sister's abuser. Our community held meetings and we had professionals guide us and help us practice scenarios. We wanted to find a way to quell our fears and have options thought out as much as we could.
There was never any violence. After a few half hearted attempts to talk to my sister, the man gave up and disappeared, but my mind had been stirred by the days and nights of preparation.
I began to examine my life through the lens of non-violence. The examination shed light on many areas of my life where violence was inherent in the choices I made...The choices I make. The food I eat, my mode of transportation, the way I dispose of waste, the way I spend my time and my treasure, is often, too often, violent or supported by violence.
I can't change it all at once. Some of it will probably never change, but one of Gandhi's favorite quotes was from a hymn written by John Henry Newman, a Catholic Priest. "One step enough for me."
24 January 2011
"The Mind is Like a Drunken Monkey"
Letter to Mathuradas Trikumji, November 1, 1921, from The Essential Writings of Mahatma Gandhi, p.29
Gandhi struggled his whole life with his desires. He had great control over his actions, but felt that true enlightenment would be reached only when he had control over his desires.
I have only minimal control over my actions and no control over my desires. I want what I want when I want it. And far too often I satisfy my wants or become petulant, angry, and petty when I don't get what I want even if I, myself, show some modicum of self-restraint.
Gandhi struggled his whole life with his desires. He had great control over his actions, but felt that true enlightenment would be reached only when he had control over his desires.
I have only minimal control over my actions and no control over my desires. I want what I want when I want it. And far too often I satisfy my wants or become petulant, angry, and petty when I don't get what I want even if I, myself, show some modicum of self-restraint.
“A boat and a bigger boat and a ship and a bigger ship and desire and a carrot and a carrot and a carrot and desire and desire and desire and desire.” –Spaulding Gray, Swimming to Cambodia, 1987
It's the American Dream.
It is not my dream. But my dream scares me. How can I be happy if I don't get the next latest and greatest thing? How can I be happy if I don't get to travel the world and see all the amazing places there are to see? How can I be happy if I don't eat great food and watch TV and play games on my computer and drive a nice car and live in a beautiful home? The list of things I 'need' to be 'happy' seems endless.
That pretty much describes my mind. I have little control over my thoughts, feelings and actions.
My mind is like a drunken monkey. "Mere effort is not enough for controlling it." I need outside help. I need a spiritual program. I need a power greater than myself.
23 January 2011
"Pitched betwixt Heaven and Charing Cross"
This morning I read the first half of the Introduction to "The Essential Writings of Mahatma Gandhi" edited by Raghavan Iyer. I read the book many years ago and have referred to it many times since.
In the first paragraph, Mr. Iyer writes about one of Gandhi's ideals of political philosophy, sarvodaya (universal uplift or the uplift of all), "treat all possessions as if they were sacred and priceless." Then I look at my messy desk, a clutter of papers, books, computer hardware, photos, and precious mementos. Some of it is sacred and priceless. Too much of it is bookkeeping, or simple accumulation due to laziness or fear that I might dispose of something that I will later 'need.'
"It is only through daily moral choices and the meritorious and sagacious employment of limited resources in the social sphere that individuals sustain their inherited and acquired entitlements. For this very reason, the divisive and dangerous notion of exclusive ownership is systematically misleading and, at worst, a specious and subtle form of violence."
"Daily moral choices" - I'm not good at this. It sounds like hard work. I guess that's why the Jacob's Ladder is crowded with angels climbing up and down - to help me with the choices.
"He (Gandhi) translated his painful insights into daily acts of tapas - self-chosen spiritual exercises and the repeated renewal of lifelong meditation in the midst of his fervent social activity."
Does this mean that every scrap of paper is a moral choice? Every television show I watch? Every web site I visit? Every choice is a moral choice.
I have a long way to go.
22 January 2011
Duck & Cover
In 1962, I was in the 2nd grade in south Denver, Colorado. We started having Air Raid Drills during school. (Much later in life a I put together the facts. Cuban Missile Crisis and a big mountain in southern Colorado that housed NORAD.) The drills scared me. I dreamed of tiny planes dropping black bombs on my school. The Cold War was in full swing.
Somewhere during my early teens, I started thinking about atomic bombs. We had thousands. The Soviets had thousands. It seemed clear to me that if you exploded that many hydrogen bombs on the surface of the planet that it would probably destroy the atmosphere. Nuclear Winter became a popular concept some years later.
And when had we as a species not used a weapon in a war. And when had there not been another war.
I didn't think I would live to 30. If the balloon went up, I intended to sit on the roof of my house and watch the incoming missiles.
In 1977, my wife was pregnant and I was a college drop out with no marketable skills. I joined the Air Force. They made me an F-4E Crew Chief. My name was spray painted on the left side of the front cockpit. I followed my "aerospace vehicle" to Germany for an exercise. In a concrete revetment, on the final day of the exercise. We loaded a live nuclear bomb on my plane. We'd loaded lots of dummies during exercises in the states, but here in Germany, a man with a gun guarded us at all times. I started the engines and taxied my plane out of the bunker and saluted the pilots and prepared for the end of the world.
A month later I was baptized. I believed we as a species needed a miracle to survive. I only knew one place to look for a miracle.
In the early '90's, I became involved with a bunch of Episcopal Radicals. They talked about non-violence. I didn't know what that meant, so I started reading. Being a small "f" fundamentalist, I went back to Gandhi.
I've lost my way over the intervening years. I'm going back to Gandhi.
Join me.
Somewhere during my early teens, I started thinking about atomic bombs. We had thousands. The Soviets had thousands. It seemed clear to me that if you exploded that many hydrogen bombs on the surface of the planet that it would probably destroy the atmosphere. Nuclear Winter became a popular concept some years later.
And when had we as a species not used a weapon in a war. And when had there not been another war.
I didn't think I would live to 30. If the balloon went up, I intended to sit on the roof of my house and watch the incoming missiles.
In 1977, my wife was pregnant and I was a college drop out with no marketable skills. I joined the Air Force. They made me an F-4E Crew Chief. My name was spray painted on the left side of the front cockpit. I followed my "aerospace vehicle" to Germany for an exercise. In a concrete revetment, on the final day of the exercise. We loaded a live nuclear bomb on my plane. We'd loaded lots of dummies during exercises in the states, but here in Germany, a man with a gun guarded us at all times. I started the engines and taxied my plane out of the bunker and saluted the pilots and prepared for the end of the world.
A month later I was baptized. I believed we as a species needed a miracle to survive. I only knew one place to look for a miracle.
In the early '90's, I became involved with a bunch of Episcopal Radicals. They talked about non-violence. I didn't know what that meant, so I started reading. Being a small "f" fundamentalist, I went back to Gandhi.
I've lost my way over the intervening years. I'm going back to Gandhi.
Join me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)