"In this Ashram, we make it a rule that we must say 'No' when we mean 'No', regardless of consequences." - Speech on 'Ashram Vows' at the YMCA, Madras, Indian Review, February 1916, The Hindu, 16 Feb. 1916 (from The Essential Writings of Mahatma Gandhi edited by Raghavan Iyer)
My efforts at lobbying in support of the abused, neglected, and orphaned children in the state of Texas continued this morning.
After my disappointing and disheartening trip to the State Capitol last week, to talk to my local representative about the upcoming budget for these children, I wrote an email to the representative describing my position and my experience in her office. A return email from a staffer requested my telephone number so that she could speak with me about my experience and about the representatives support for the children of the state. I sent my number, but included that there was no need to call. That I did in fact understand what role the representative played in writing budgets and that the representative could still count on my support (which she can. Her opponents have made this state last among states in spending for children.)
She called this morning. I was polite. I was understanding. I was respectful. I'm afraid that what I was not was truthful. I'm afraid I let politeness smother the truth as I understand it.
What my representative agreed to in the budget will be a greater hardship for the children already suffering trauma.
I know that there are people in the world who would see the 'hardship' of my state as a huge step forward for their children. Their children lack food and clean water and shelter. Their lives are torn apart by disease and war.
I cannot reconcile these two worlds. I wish I could.
What I can do is speak for those being injured in my neighborhood.
But I must learn to lovingly speak the harsh truth and not hide the truth behind a curtain of politeness.
Showing posts with label peace. Gandhi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peace. Gandhi. Show all posts
28 March 2011
03 March 2011
A Quack like Me
"The optimist lives delighting in thoughts of love and charity...The pessimist, being himself prey to violent attachments and dislikes, looks upon every person as his enemy..." - 'Optimism' (G.), Navajivan, 23 Oct 1921
My wife has told me often over the years that when ever we talk about the future, I always see the bad things that can happen and never the good, and I believe she is telling me the truth.. It is a hard thing for me to hear.
I want to believe that I am an optimist, but that is not the truth. I live in fear. I seem to have been that way as long as I can remember.
When I was a boy and would tell my father that I was afraid, he would look at me sternly and tell me there was nothing to be afraid of.
My father had a difficult upbringing. His mother was married either seven or nine times, he wasn't sure which. At the age of sixteen, he beat up his then current step-father and went to live in the oil fields of California with his real father, working for him on his wild-cat oil rigs. At seventeen, he joined the Navy and was in port in Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. His first ship was sunk there. Two more ships he was on during the war were sunk in the Pacific. I don't think he could ever let himself feel scared and he didn't want his son to be fearful. But I was, and I felt like I was a failure. I was never the son my father wanted. He wanted a man's man. I was far more comfortable with women.
In recent years, I have begun to accept that I am a fearful person. I don't like it, but I have stopped trying to change this fact about myself. It is not in my power to change. However, what is in my power to change is how I react to my fears.
I pray for courage.
My wife has told me often over the years that when ever we talk about the future, I always see the bad things that can happen and never the good, and I believe she is telling me the truth.. It is a hard thing for me to hear.
I want to believe that I am an optimist, but that is not the truth. I live in fear. I seem to have been that way as long as I can remember.
When I was a boy and would tell my father that I was afraid, he would look at me sternly and tell me there was nothing to be afraid of.
My father had a difficult upbringing. His mother was married either seven or nine times, he wasn't sure which. At the age of sixteen, he beat up his then current step-father and went to live in the oil fields of California with his real father, working for him on his wild-cat oil rigs. At seventeen, he joined the Navy and was in port in Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. His first ship was sunk there. Two more ships he was on during the war were sunk in the Pacific. I don't think he could ever let himself feel scared and he didn't want his son to be fearful. But I was, and I felt like I was a failure. I was never the son my father wanted. He wanted a man's man. I was far more comfortable with women.
In recent years, I have begun to accept that I am a fearful person. I don't like it, but I have stopped trying to change this fact about myself. It is not in my power to change. However, what is in my power to change is how I react to my fears.
I pray for courage.
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?
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.
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