Entitlement

Times are tough in Metro Detroit. I live in a community that has been painfully acquainted with corporate restructuring, mass lay-offs, mandatory vacation time, and buy-outs. These terms make up a partial list of corporate-speak for a struggling economic climate--they are terms that have personal meaning for many who work and live in Southeast Michigan.

Perhaps it's ironic. The same industry that placed Detroit in the international spotlight faces crippling conditions that are challenging the most seasoned business leaders. Many families in this region face bankruptcy and foreclosure, and the housing market has stalled. Companies are filing for bankruptcy alongside the employees they've been forced to cast aside. Over time, the landscape of the city has changed for the worse, and though some might argue there have been signs of improvement, some city residents feel they are fundamentally ignored. These are serious problems that require the cooperation and innovation of the business community, government officials and citizens at large. The seriousness of the situation in Detroit makes recent news more disheartening than people who live here can adequately express.

It is national news. The mayor of Detroit is embroiled in a scandal the depth and breadth of which has yet to be revealed. So far, we have read evidence that he committed perjury in a whistleblower lawsuit brought by well-regarded police officers who claimed they were wrongfully terminated. We have read reports that suggest that the mayor and then chief of staff Beatty fired these gentlemen to cover up their personal sexual relationship--a relationship they both lied about on the witness stand. Allegations continue to surface on other issues from city contracts to interference with a murder investigation.

For news agencies, it's all there. Sex, lies, and videotape. 

Several tapes that have aired since this scandal broke continue to weigh on me. In one, the mayor (after hiding from the media for nearly a week) speaks to the city from his church with his wife at his side. He spoke of "deeply personal" issues. He spoke of the pain of his wife and children and the pain of residents of the City of Detroit. He said he was sorry, but for legal reasons couldn't elaborate.

Later in a radio interview, he said he felt he had been "called by God" to be the mayor of Detroit. He's said he won't quit on the citizens. He refuses to consider resigning as Spitzer did and can't understand why many feel he should. To make matters worse, he continues to ratchet up racially charged rhetoric that further divides a region that can't survive in a divided state.

There is not one verse in the Dhammapada that couldn't be applied to this situation in some way.

As I think about it and I think about how disturbed I am by attitudes of entitlement in general, and this case in particular, I turned to the Dhammapada for some insight. What consitutes an attitude of entitlement? The absence of humility? The belief that wrong is right because of one's own specialness? The belief that one deserves to be judged by standards separate and apart from the everyday person. What might the Dhammapada offer to one who is plagued by this attitude? I think today's Daily Dharma says it all.

I, Too

On the drive home from work today, I was reminded of a poem by Langston Hughes. I was listening to the Mitch Albom show. He was playing audio clips from Donny Deutsch's  recent interview of Ann Coulter on The Big Idea and asking, "Where is the outrage?"

Here's an abbreviated version of the exchange:

Deutch: If you had your way ... and your dreams, which are genuine, came true ... what would this country look like?"

Coulter: "It would look like New York City during the [2004] Republican National Convention. In fact, that's what I think heaven is going to look like. People were happy. They're Christian. They're tolerant. They defend America."

Deutsch: "It would be better if we were all Christian?"

Coulter: "Yes."

Deutsch: "[Y]ou said we should throw Judaism away and we should all be Christians,"

Coulter: "Yes."

When pressed by Deutsch regarding whether she wanted to be like "the head of Iran" and "wipe Israel off the Earth," Coulter stated: "No, we just want Jews to be perfected."

Mitch went on to comment about the wave of attention and the number of media outlets that latched on to Don Imus and his ignorant remarks about members of the Rutgers Women's Basketball team. I suppose his point was that Coulter's comments—equally ignorant and equally charged, if not more so—deserve at least the same level of attention and outrage as those uttered by Imus.

Perhaps outrage is appropriate. But moving beyond the emotional response,  perhaps something more is required. Perhaps people who claim to love America need to be reminded when their words and views are in direct conflict with the principles on which this country was founded. Ironically, the same first amendment that grants individuals the right to stand up and make inflammatory, outrageous and ignorant statements on television, also promises the right to freedom of religion and prohibits the establishment of the national religion that Coulter desires.

In yesterday's Daily Dharma, I quoted from The Sutra on the Eight Realizations of Great Beings. In the second realization, it says:

All hardships in daily life arise from greed and desire.

Greed and desire are the forces within us that cause us to want the world to be as we are. We grasp for comfort, and often comfort comes in the form of being surrounded by people who don't push our buttons, who don't challenge our deeply held beliefs, who don't suggest that there is any way to live a proper life, save our own. But those of us who remember our civics lessons know that America was never intended to be that place. What kind of America would we live in if everyone understood and accepted that fact?

What do we do, as Buddhists, when confronted with remarks such as these? Do we dissent? Do we rally against them? Do we protest? Do we denounce? Perhaps the challenge is to become like the Bodhisattva Wondrous Sound and speak to the speaker with clarity and compassion in words she can understand.

Can You Feel Compassion for a Murderer?

My heart goes out to the students, faculty and staff of Virginia Tech. I sit in front of my television watching CNN and I cannot find the words to describe the disbelief I am confronted with as I sit with the fact that this did happen. Thirty-two people are dead.

I was thinking tonight... We spend more time in school studying fiction than we do studying psychology or behavioral science. From an early age, we learn that where there is a protagonist, there is an antagonist. We are taught to seek them out, and we are taught to view story in this way. Something happens to the protagonist. The story is about what happens to this character, often what is done to her by the antagonist. We tend to dislike the antagonist. We tend to see him as the reason why everything is in disarray in the protagonist's life.

Today, even the news is presented using the techniques of fiction. The best editors write compelling arguments for why this is and often should be the case. They speak of the reader's attention span, the need for detail, the need to be captured. In a media-rich world, the written word has stiff competition. Text must sing, tap dance, and juggle at the same time to get attention.

On a day like today, a week after this terrible tragedy, I wonder. I wonder if we will look at what happened and count thirty-three casualties of this incident. I wonder if we can summon compassion for a murderer.

I am not excusing or glossing over what Cho Seung-Hui did. It was the terrible act of a disturbed individual who lacked coping skills. I'm wondering about the wisdom in framing this incident in the stark monochromes of black and white. I'm wondering if viewing this through an us vs. him lens will get us anywhere. If these tragedies tell us anything, perhaps they tell us that we are not disconnected. There is no "that's his problem."

Tracy Chapman is always on my mp3 player. Back in 1992 she released an album called Matters of the Heart. One of the cuts on this album ends with these lyrics:

Before you can raise your eyes to read
The writing on the wall
Bang bang bang
He'll shoot you down

Before you can bridge the gulf between
And embrace him in your arms
Bang bang bang
He'll shoot you down

I, with the world, am still processing this. But I don't believe we can throw away Cho Seung-Hui like the garbage we set at curbside, pitch down a chute or toss in a dumpster. He was a human being with a heart, a troubled heart, and a family who (I would imagine) is equally devastated.

On Being A Buddhist Parent at Christmas

This time last year, I was chided by a girlfriend for not having a Christmas tree. She looked at my daughter and said, "Poor baby... you are so deprived."

This afternoon, one of the members of my parents church called and asked if my daughter could be in the Christmas program. Maybe she hasn't noticed the fact that we haven't attended there in over two years. Maybe my mother put her up to it because she hates not seeing her granddaughter on stage in a cute red or green dress reciting the lines of a Christmas speech. I've had numerous discussions with my parents about how I'm doing a disservice to my daughter by taking her to a Zen temple every week.

"All they do is play," my father shakes his head. "At our church she would be given opportunities to do things... to join in the service... to stand in front of people and speak... to sing in the choir. These are important skills for young people to learn." (Nevermind the fact that my daughter is wrapping up her participation in the school play this week, which I would say is comparable).

My parents know that we practice Buddhism. They know that we've been going to Still Point for a couple of years. They know that we are members there. But the attempts to make me feel guilty somehow, to make me feel like a "bad parent" because I choose to be Buddhist don't stop. Perhaps they never will.

I get tired of the distance I see between the "true meaning of Christmas" and the commercial message of Santa Claus. You've been good this year? Let me reward you with a bunch of toys you won't play with once the afterglow wears off. You've been bad this year? No GameBoy for you.

My daughter made a Christmas list this year. We talked about it. I told her how I felt about it.

"We've got to stop feeling like we have to have more and more things to make us happy. You have a room full of past Christmas gifts that you don't play with, things that you will never use. This year I want to use the holidays... the time we have off from school and work to get rid of things. Think about who could use the stuff you don't play with anymore... Like the time you were in the hospital and they had all those toys and books for you. Maybe you could give some things to the hospital. I'm not going to pull the plug on Christmas completely, but don't expect to hit the toy lottery on the 25th."

I wonder if I'm sending a mixed message by exchanging gifts at all. It is impossible to be in my family without Christmas, though.

I'd like to hear from other parents (really anyone who has an opinion or a thought to share). Am I the only one who goes through this with my family? How do you deal with being Buddhist at Christmas wit your children? Do you have a tree? Do you have Christmas decorations? Do you exchange gifts? I've heard that some communities celebrate Bodhi day in a manner somewhat similar to Christmas... that gifts are exchanged. Is this true for your community?

Lest We Forget

It seems like a lifetime ago, but I was robbed and sexually assaulted by a man who had AIDS. He was drugged out and broke, needing a fix. He was a stranger to me. But when I later saw him on the street and called the police, when I completed the visual and the voice line up, when I met with the attorney and the detective and told them my story for the 100th time, they told me he had AIDS.

AIDS became very real for me that day. It hit home in ways that it hadn't quite hit me before. And in certain ways, I've never been the same. I knew how lucky I was to walk away from an experience like that HIV negative. I also knew that people all around me were dying. People were losing loved ones. It broke my heart. It still does.

Today I was moved by these blog entries by Terrence and J, and I thought about someone I loved who lost his mother, and someone else I loved who lost his father. I thought about the alarming rates at which people in the Black community continue to contract the disease, and I thought about the terrifying months I spent waiting for the results of my HIV test.

AIDS is real people. Be mindful.

Friendly Dragon made some valid points in response to my last post:

We tend to 'demonize' disease want to 'cure' aids, cancer - whatever by 'doing battle' with them. Is it not a vain aspiration to believe we can fix samsara? Old age, sickness and death are natural phenomena. The cause of death is birth. We all die.

Her words reminded me of Buddha's words quoted in the Dalai Lama's book Advice on Dying:

A place to stay untouched by death
Does not exist.
It does not exist in space, it does not exist in
   the ocean,
Nor if you stay in the middle of a mountain.

[... from pg. 40]

These are truths we cannot avoid even if we try. Suffering and Impermanence surround us. And while Buddha taught us these things, he never suggested that we should throw our hands in the air when we cross paths with people who are sick or suffering. Buddha taught by example that we should care for the sick and dying... that we should do whatever we can to help them. Buddhists understand that they will grow old and die, but they don't deny themselves medicine or medical treatment to speed along the process.

That some people right now, every day, choose to apply Right Action and Right Effort towards a cure for AIDS is not vanity. It is service. It is compassion. One medicine won't cure all of the ills in the world, but if it could help alleviate some suffering where is the wrong in that? If wanting a cure for AIDS is greedy and grasping, maybe I'm just greedy and grasping. I want to see a cure for AIDS in my lifetime. And I am not alone.

Where Are We With HIV/AIDS?

There used to be a time when you couldn't turn on the television without hearing about it. I'm talking about HIV and AIDS. First, it was a quiet disease attacking (or so it seemed) a specific community... the community of gay men. As the disease reached out to more "mainstream" audiences, everyone started to get very concerned. AIDS became very real for our country when people who weren't "supposed" to get it started getting it. For a while, it was front page news. Everybody was talking about it. Everybody was concerned about research and development. What new superdrugs were being developed to attack what seemed un-attackable?

It spilled over from hospitals, clinics, hospices and research labs into theaters, exhibits, poems, and music. It hit popular culture square in the head and it didn't stop there. Prevention seemed a primary concern. Education about HIV/AIDS and how not to get it became paramount. Kids in schools across the country sniggered and elbowed each other as their red-faced teachers talked about safe sex. Some parents were outraged. Others were relieved.

Yesterday I saw an afternoon matinee of RENT with a group of girlfriends. I never had an opportunity to see it on stage, so I was really looking forward to it. I admit it, I like musicals. But I really didn't know what it was all about. I didn't know the storyline. A few weeks before the premiere, I started to get curious. I read a brief history on Wikipedia, and understood its ties to La Boheme. I listened to them talk about the upcoming movie on Mitch Albom, and I think (sorry Mitch if I'm misquoting or misrepresenting you) I remember Mitch saying something about Rent being yesterday's news... suggesting that it's heyday had passed.

As I sat in the theater, I thought that nothing could be further from the truth. I think we really need RENT today. We need to be reminded that there is still an AIDS epidemic. We need to be reminded that there are still human beings whose lives are touched then forever altered by this disease. We still need to work on removing the stigma associated with HIV/AIDS. There is still such a distinction between how we treat people with cancer and how we treat people with AIDS. There is still too much judgment, too little compassion. We need to be reminded that no matter what we are up against, we still need to love, to connect, to have a little help from our friends.

I loved the characters in this story. I think I loved Angel the most because she was glam, fun, happy compassionate, giving and downright lovable despite everything she was going through. I loved her relationship with Collins. I also loved Collins because he was played by Jesse L. Martin who I have had a serious crush on since he played Dr. Greg on Ally McBeal. I loved that the gay and lesbian people in this movie got to be gay and lesbian people... characters with depth and dimension, not the stereotypical caricatures we often see.

I need to ask a question. Is it just me, or are we less concerned about HIV/AIDS today than we were 10 or 20 years ago? Is it just me, or has this issue quietly receeded into the background? There is still plenty of room for concern. What it feels like to me is that there is a lack of engagement with the issue, and that lack of engagement is hurting people.

I used to be pretty active with an HIV/AIDS prevention program in Detroit. Seeing RENT reminds me that there is still work to do for those who will do it.

Making the Impermanent Permanent

Browsing the Buddhism News Feed, I came across this article that caught my eye. It contains one Relgion reporter's reflections about a recent visit to the Body Worlds exhibit in Philly. I guess I'm just late or out of touch because I hadn't heard of the exhibit or the plastination process that makes it possible. Says Weiss:

This will be old news for some of you, I’m sure. The exhibit has been around in one form or another for about 10 years. It’s the creation of German anatomist Gunther von Hagens, who figured out how to “plasticinate” dead bodies. What he has done is take 200 donated human corpses and preserve them with his technique in a way that leaves the tissues intact but with every cell completely sheathed in plastic. Muscles look a bit like beef jerky. Organs are more pallid than their fresh counterparts, but retain the exact shape and size they did in life.

The original exhibit can be seen in Philly until April 23, 2006 at the Franklin Institute Science Museum. Version 2 is showing in Toronto through February 6, 2006 at the Ontario Science Center.

I Don't Know What to Do With This

A Thai monk, center, looks at the ruins of a temple burnt by suspected Muslim separatists in Pattani Province, south of Bangkok, Sunday, Oct. 16, 2005. About 20 suspected Muslim separatists stormed a monastery, hacked an elderly Buddhist monk to death and fatally shot two temple boys Sunday in southern Thailand, police said. Six other people were killed in separate incidents across Thailand's three southernmost provinces, where more than 1,000 people have died in an insurgency that flared early last year.

[...from the Buddhist Channel article Monk, Temple Boys Murdered found here]

So, I don't know what to do with this. I will chant. I will bow. But I can't fix my brain around the senselessness of this.

A Final Word on Bennett

Jeff joined the conversation last week and I drafted this post. I just forgot to come back and post it. The Bennett issue was still on my mind because I still had some comments I wanted to make in response to statements made on other Buddhist Blogs. I refrained from making the comments because it seemed the conversation was over and I didn't want to feel like I was "beating a dead horse." But with Jeff's recent toss into the hat, I'm going to conclude my comments on Bennett, et. al.

First, I want to address Nacho's comments found in responses to his latest post on the issue, More on Bennett:

What we've seen is a dismissal of the remarks as not worth our time or outrage -- by dismissing that the guy could have truly meant that. What is forgotten is that the damage is done even if not intended. Such a dismissal has not come from black people, or others who have suffered discrimination, either. It cuts way too close for us to dismiss them. If anything, the dismissal by the black writers I have read that have commented, has been the kind of "what else is new?" The dismissal does not make them innocuous. It makes them even more insidious, it is a disregard for the feelings of others and for the potential consequences of those words.

"What else is new?" is a question that nicely sums up the reaction of most Black people when racist or stereotypical statements are made about Black people. We are not surprised. It is business as usual. This does not mean that we expect these statements from every non-Black person in the world. This does not mean that we are not disgusted when public figures (or any other figures) make these statements. We simply bump up against racism in our daily lives. We might not have fire hoses or dogs turned upon us, but we share common experiences that remind us that racism is alive and well. We know this intimately, and we don't need a pundit's public statement to remind us. Terrence already made this point, so I'll quote him:

Stop the next half a dozen black folks you meed on the street, and ask any of them if they’ve ever been suspected of being a criminal or treated like one for no other reason but their race — whether it’s being placed in handcuffs and put in jail or just being watched closely while shopping at the mall — and I bet you three or four of them will say that they have experienced just that.

I have to say, I'm still intrigued and slightly curious about Nacho's call for an apology. Personally, I am not naive enough to believe that I can coerce or pressure people who make these statements to apologize... I don't even want the apology. What I come to understand is that I am not in that person's circle of concern and no amount of outrage is going to put me inside their circle of concern.

The defense of Bennett's statement is just politics as usual. The belief is that such admissions will weaken the party, and no one wants to do that when election season is around the corner (and it always is).

As Buddhists, we are taught to eat all blame, so the statement "I was wrong," is a powerful statement and a sign of inner strength. Unfortunately, that line of thinking  does not permeate politics as it permeates Buddhist discourse or ways of being.

Nacho seems to be looking at this through the lens "You're either a part of the solution or you're part of the problem" and is (quite passionately) trying to be part of the solution. I applaud his motives. But the sum of his argument is the belief that people need to change. They need to change what they say. They need to change what they believe. They need to change how they view and respond to matters of race. They need to "know better." So I want to ask him What changes people? I would pose the same question in response to the Diversity Trainings he posted weeks ago.

People who care about diversity don't need mindfulness trainings on diversity. They naturally respond to people and events around them in ways that promote and celebrate diversity because it matters to them. For people like this, putting diversity trainings on paper is like preaching to the choir. The question becomes how do you get someone who doesn't care about diversity to care? How do you get someone who doesn't like black people to care when they offend black people?

People don't change because we want them to. People change because they choose to.

My next post on emptiness will include the following quote from http://buddhism.kalachakranet.org/wisdom_emptiness.html

I can change the world, if I start with my own mind.

Yes, I think there is a place for what people are calling Engaged Buddhism. I also think that from a Buddhist perspective we understand that our power lies in our own laps. I could be out there “fighting the power” and making a lot of noise about who and what needs to change when, where, how and why. But first I have to take responsibility. I think uncovering where and how the issues manifest in my own mind is a good place to start.

I understand where Jeff is coming from:

Stop externalizing racism: it is truly “inside” all of us to the degree that we participate in activities that foster and sustain racial oppression. Americans are pretty good with Right Attitude. But when it comes to Right Action, there is a sad unwillingness to acknowledge the complexity of racial issues and what may be needed to address them.

We all need to own up to our own hypocrisy. Whether it comes into play through our politics, through an indifference to certain issues, through our actions, through our lack of action, or even through attitudes buried in the store consciousness that sometimes see the light, we need to own up and take responsibility if we really want to do something to eradicate the issue. Jeff makes a valid point... clinging to the fact that we don't purport racist attitudes while we support policies that prolong racial oppression only carries us 1/8th of the way.

What About Bill Bennett?

Nacho has a couple of recent posts about Bill Bennett's statement on crime, Blacks and abortion. I've been hearing about the statement for the past few days and even discussed the issue with a few friends over dinner last night. Nacho's posts made me think a little more on the subject so I decided to answer them with a few thoughts of my own.

Here is the core of Bennett's statement clipped from CNN.com:

"If you wanted to reduce crime, you could -- if that were your sole purpose -- you could abort every black baby in this country and your crime rate would go down.

"That would be an impossibly ridiculous and morally reprehensible thing to do, but your crime rate would go down," he said.

Setting aside the inflamatory and insensitive nature of the comment for a moment, I don't believe that on it's face the statement is even accurate. Black people are certainly prosecuted and convicted for certain classes of crime at higher rates than whites. We cannot take this to mean that Blacks commit more crime. This is an unfortunate stereotype that continues to prevail.

I don't like what William Bennett said. Statements like that make me cringe. But I don't want him to apologize to me or anyone else for saying it. There is something so beautiful about freedom of speech. It affords anybody with a microphone, a newspaper, a radio frequency, a blog to say whatever they want to say... to make whatever argument they want to make... no matter how ridiculous. Then it is up to the rest of us to weigh the value of those words and decide for ourselves if they have meaning for us.

To point to William Bennett and suggest that he and people like him are the reason why racism exists is a gross exaggeration. If we think we can eradicate racism by denouncing people because they make outrageous statements, we miss an important point. Racism has receeded so far into the background that we don't really notice it. I believe racism is more dangerous and has more potential to harm when we see it in play in the subtle ways we deal with each other as members of different races than in rash, broadly publicized statements.

Was his statement a literal call for action or a metaphor? I think it was a metaphor... a clumsy and careless metaphor, but a metaphor nonetheless. Was his statement insensitive? Absolutely. Given the history of  our country, our world, our human race... any statement that suggests something positive can come from genocide is troubling. Does the fact that he made the statement mean that he is racist? I don't think the statement, on it's face, provides any of us with enough information to make such a determination. It could be a clue but the statement (by itself) is not telling.

When statements like this get a lot of attention, they give us an opportunity to point at someone and say "See, that is where racism is." We can be outraged. Worse still, we can be distanced. So what do we do in the face of this situation? How do we respond? Here's my suggestion:

Stop externalizing racism. The seeds of racism exist in all of us. Look at how those seeds were planted and how they grow in you. Deal with yourself.

Katrina's Lesson of Impermanence

I've stepped away from blogging for the past few weeks for a lot of reasons...

I've been completely taken aback by the devastation in the gulf coast region. I've found myself glued to CNN, MSNBC, and other news sources looking for a glimpse of the landscape that consumed my summer months for most of my life.

My grandmother lives in a small town on the gulf coast of Mississippi called Bay St. Louis. We would drive down every year during summer vacation and stay in her house. We would pack the car until it was overflowing with luggage, pillows, blankets, travel games, books, snacks and anything else that would keep us occupied. After leaving Michigan, we would drive for two days... stopping in Kentucky or Tennessee for an overnight stay at a Hampton Inn or a Howard Johnson's or whatever else was convenient when my father got tired of driving. We knew we had arrived when we saw Highway 90. Somehow the sense of restlessness and cabin fever that built up from hours on end in a car would start to dissipate when the car found that small stretch of road that ran parallel to the beach telling us we were almost there.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the area, Highway 90 sits right next to the sand and takes you from Biloxi through Gulfport and Long Beach to a bridge (that no longer exists) that crossed the bay to Bay St. Louis. Along that stretch of highway you could see restaurants, shopping malls and strip malls, souvenir shops, piers and docks, fishing boats and leisure boats, huge plantation-style mansions mixed in with modern homes, houses on stilts (which I still don't understand) and more recently the casino boats. Having passed these landmarks annually for eighteen years, certain things were burned in my memory. From what I can tell watching the television screen, most of them are gone. The only thing I've been able to discern is a boat that washed ashore during Hurricane Camille that was converted into a souvenir shop. Everything else, even the highway itself, appears to be in varying states of disrepair.

Miraculously, my grandmother's house is still standing with all of the windows intact. She lives less than a mile away from the beach in Bay St. Louis, but her neighbor reports that the garage door was the only thing Katrina took from her. We can all live with that. I was extremely relieved to know that she was safe, staying with a couple of my aunts in Jackson, watching Katrina on television like the rest of us until their power went out. Reports on members of our extended family have trickled in. Cousins, second cousins, and other "numbered" or "great" relatives in the region are all alive and well.

It has been difficult to watch it all unfold... the storm, the aftermath, the hospital slayings dubbed mercy killings, the flooding, the filth, the starvation, the devastation, the agonizingly slow response. While most of us sit and watch from the comfort of our homes where we can still shower, prepare meals, store food, wash clothes, and enjoy our accumulated positions, it seems that the common responses include anger, sadness, compassion, charitable giving, and heaping spoonfulls of blame.

Blame Bush. Blame FEMA. Blame state and local governments if you must. If you are inclined towards blame, there is always a lot of it to go around. I don't really want to go there right now... plenty of other blogs are covering those angles if you need to read them. What I do know is that this storm is one of the great tragedies of the century. Ninety-five years from now when some reporter or historian reflects on the significant events of the past 100 years, Katrina will be remembered.

When I look at what Katrina did to the gulf coast region, I don't think about blame as much as I think about impermanence. My hope is that it becomes a great lesson in impermanence for all of us. Those who have lost everything cannot choose to learn this lesson. They are living it. As for the rest of us? Let us be mindful:

The woman who gathers the flowers of desire,
whose mind clings to pleasures,
is carried off by death in the same way
that a sleeping village
is swept away by a great flood.

[...from Chapter 4 FLOWERS in The Still Point Dhammapada, pg. 23]

It shouldn't require a storm... but since we have one so readily available let's use it. Let's use it to look at all the things we cling to, all of the things we desire... and let's see those things as hurricanes that are not seasonal. Be they category two, four, or five... these things that we cling to ravage and destroy us as efficiently as Katrina took out the gulf coast.

You can just look
at a beautiful person
who has died
now a heap of bones
and see that nothing lasts.
Nothing.

[...from Chapter 11 OLD AGE in The Still Point Dhammapada, p. 73]

So whatever it is you think you require for your existence... a high speed internet connection, cable television, a hot shower... realize that it can be taken from you. It could've been you sitting in a stadium turned cesspool without plumbing, food, water, soap, tampons or medical care. Would you sit in anger and lament about the tragedy that has befallen you or could you be grateful for that next breath? Could you take it all on (with smiles or laughter) as a great lesson in impermanence? I don't know if I could meet the situation with that level of calm, humor or stillness... but I think that is the sign of a great master, a great bodhisattva warrior, the stuff of kong'ans and other zen legends... I think that's what we strive for when we do this practice... the ability to meet life as it comes, to accept the cards we are dealt, and be skilled in letting go.

Sarva Dharma Samabhava

This BuddhismNews.it article is an interesting read. It discusses Ghandi's and Ambedkar's views on Nationalist Muslims. The article begins with a statement by Ghandi:

Scriptures cannot transcend reason and truth. They are intended to purify reason and illuminate truth. Every formula of every religion has, in this age of reason, to submit to the test of reason and universal justice if it is to ask for universal assent. Error can claim no exemption even if it can be supported by the scriptures of the world.

Buddhists would find nothing to disagree with here. Buddha himself suggested that we try the teachings on... that we experiment with thoughts and actions, that we evaluate the results of our thoughts and actions to determine their merit. Everything in Buddhism is subject to the test of reason. Each practitioner is encouraged to be a thorough examiner.

Sarva Dharma Samabhava means equal validity of all religions. This was a concept that Ghandi believed strongly. Ambedkhar dissented. In this post 911/post 77 world, Ambedkhar's words feel somewhat prophetic. Seeking answers to his questions Do the Islamic scriptures pass the tests of reason and universal justice and brotherhood? Do these scriptures allow its adherents to live peacefully with persons professing other faiths? his findings were not in tune with Sarva Dharma Samabhava. He believed:

Islam [is] an exclusive, intolerant and monopolistic religion.

Well, arguably it can be... but we can't count out the non-violent, peace-seeking Muslims who promote Islam as a religion of peace. Despite the violent demonstrations we see that contradict this (unfortunately more frequently as of late) I'm holding out for Sarva Dharma Samabhava. I agree with Ghandi... we can work towards a world where muslims and non-muslims can live in peace with respect and understanding. Perhaps, as we work towards that world, we should also listen to and heed Ambedkar's concerns. I found some truth in what both men were saying.

Can Zen Practice Fight Obesity?

According to this Buddhist Channel article, mindful eating can change eating habits, reduce binge eating, increase the enjoyment of food, and help us to be clear about when we have had enough.

I'm trying to lose weight. Last week, I walked almost two miles every night after work. I have workout tapes that I use. But what's interesting to me is that I find that when I'm caught up in my "I'm focused on losing weight now" mode, I'm not practicing as much. I'm tired from walking and working out the night before, so I'm not waking up early enough for sitting practice in the morning.

I also notice that for me, my weight loss efforts tend to focus 90% on being more active, and maybe 10% on changing the way that I eat. What this article reminds me of, is that the way that I eat means more than just the foods that I pick. How often do I really just sit down and eat without thinking about the next thing I have to do? How often do I try to center myself before I sit down in front of my plate? How often do I mindlessly pick something for lunch based on convenience instead of picking something my body will really appreciate and use well?

Among other things, mindful eating means not gorging absent-mindedly while doing something else like watching TV or chattering away, and learning to tell when you feel full enough or that you've reached "taste-specific satiety."

This is the phenomenon by which, after four or five bites, taste buds lose their sensitivity to the chemicals in food that make it taste good. It is taste-specific satiety that explains why the first bites of chocolate taste better than later ones and why, when you cannot manage another bite of steak, you have plenty of enthusiasm for ice cream. Once you recognize that you're losing the pleasure of a certain taste, it's easier to stop eating it.

This article is a lesson to me. Slow down. Taste your food. Notice it. Appreciate the textures, the scents, the warmth, the coldness. Really pay attention. Breathe between bites. Notice your body. Bring the same present moment awareness you cultivate on the cushion to each and every mealtime... not just formal meal times (breakfast, lunch, dinner) but the moments when you want to snack.

When you want to snack, notice what you are craving. Are you hungry? Do you just want the taste of something sweet or salty? What about that Hershey's bar... Do you have to eat the whole thing just because you opened it? They do section it off into nice tiny bite sized rectangles. Next time I think I need chocolate I might just take one section at a time, slowly, and try to notice when that sweet craving is actually satisfied... try to notice when I cross the line between enjoying a little chocolate and eating it because it's there.

Get Green

I don't know what gas prices look like where you live, but here in Metro Detroit, prices keep on rising at the pump. The folks over at GetGreen.com have suggestions that might make us (and, it seems, our pocketbooks) breathe a little easier. When I bought my last car, I looked for something I could afford... that was about my only criteria. In Metro Detroit, we have few options. There is no large, reliable mass transit system... so you have to drive if you have to work. This at least gives me something to think about next time I venture into the dealership. I'm thinking about a hybrid next time... Any feedback on those? Who's driving a hybrid?

Confessions of a TV Addict

Last week was TV Turn Off week. My daughter's school participated in the campaign this year, and she came home excited about the experiment. She reported the facts:

Americans watch an average of more than four hours of TV a day, or two full months of TV a year.

Two whole months.

I'm probably the average American in terms of media consumption. My recent complaint has been that I don't have time to do anything, but I wasn't really paying attention to where a good chunk of my time went. I admit I wasn't completely thrilled with the prospect of giving up any of my viewing time... I guess I felt like Calvin:

At the end of a stressful day, TV was my cold beer... TV was my cigarette. I've watched friends who smoke blow tension and stress right out of their bodies at the first puff of a cigarette. Some part of me must've thought I was getting the same release while watching television. On the other side of this experiment I realize how lethargic and just plain "blah" I feel after sitting in front of the set for long periods.

Now I can see why it has been a struggle to get everything done. I watch too much television.

I decided to limit myself to five hours last week. Monday and Tuesday nights, I didn't turn on the set at all. Wednesday is my favorite night of prime time... I really enjoy Lost, Alias and Eyes. Thursday, I watched the Apprentice and ER. Then I had a TV-free Friday. Saturday, I folded on the experiment. I think Saturday taught me the most... because I had created all this spaciousness without television, I could actually feel the shift when I started to add more television back into my life. It just didn't feel good.

So we will keep going. Today was a TV free day.

None of this is new to me... I've had periods before when I turned the TV off... But something about the first part of the year... the level of stress... the drama and turmoil... TV became a constant escape... It is no coincidence that as my TV watching increased, my practice decreased.

What Makes Us Happy

A recent feed from The Buddhist Channel proclaims that Scientists Want to Know What Makes Us Happy. The article by Justin Maynor suggests that money can't buy happiness, but mindfulness might yield joy. Happiness is alluded to as a goal of the ego—temporary, fleeting, conditioned on externals. Joy, interviewees suggest, is a deeper contentment that can come through meditation practice or reliance on a higher power.

I'm noticing that the moment I intellectually "got" the fact that meditation/zen practice is no quick fix, my practice waned. I'm noticing that although I recognize the fact that practice won't "fix" me, and although I conceptually "get" how my life/the world can benefit from my practice, I'm not practicing as much as I was when I started this blog.

What am I waiting for? Happiness?

Life gets hard. I get tired. I have other responsibilities. So what? Maybe the anxiety of these past few months might've lessened if I continued daily practice instead of settling for weekly sittings at the temple. Maybe if I had listened to my teacher and practiced with Mu I would have known what to do to alleviate my stressors weeks ago.

Two weeks ago at temple I arrived late for interviews. I stood waiting mindfully with hands in hap'chang and listened to the bell ringing in the first morning sitting. We knelt quickly on a landing midway up the stairs.

"Just do your practice," she urged gently. "How are you practicing?"

"Alternating between counting breaths and Mu," I respond.

"Do Mu... use it like a sword. It can cut through anything," she says.

I'm still uncomfortable with Mu. I feel like it gets stuck in my throat. I don't really understand it. Blah, Blah, Blah. I contemplate it more than I sit with it. It's time to start really practicing it. It could be my path to joy. How will I know if I don't jump in with both feet and really try?

Do Not Go Gentle, Donald Beardslee

Someone was killed in the first half-hour of the day. A man I'd never heard of before named Donald Beardslee was put to death by the California Department of Corrections. I wouldn't have known anything about this man or his death were it not for Diana, an employee of the Buddhist Peace Fellowship who passed along news about their plans to sit in vigil and seek a stay of execution.

I read the article in the Chronicle explaining all of the details of the crimes he committed, the remorse and emotion he did not show, the final little details of his life (that he did not eat, that he drank grapefruit juice, that his head tilted slightly as he took his final breath). I found his crimes inexcusable, but I'm not going to say he didn't deserve to die because he suffered brain damage, or because the other defendants who were accomplices in the murders committed recevied lesser sentences, or because some are calling into question exeuctions of this manner suggesting they are cruel and unusual for this or the other reason. I'm going to say he shouldn't have died because it is wrong under any and all circumstances to kill another being. Period.

I'm unwilling to listen to any reason why the State of California or any other state feels justified in the legalization and enforcement of the death penalty. Common arguments include the need to provide closure to the family of the victim,  and the need to provide a strong deterrent to violent crime. I don't buy it.

What if the family of the victim decided the state was taking too long to provide "justice"? What if a few family members decided to break in to death row and finish the job early? They would likely be convicted of murder... they would be reprimanded for participating in vigilante justice. But how would what they did be any different than what many states are doing now?  The death penalty is state-sanctioned vigilante justice. It is tit for tat... murder for murder... life for life.

Happy Birthday, Martin

Today we celebrate the life of a great man—a visionary, a revolutionary, a philosopher, a change agent, a leader in every sense of the word. Today, we celebrate Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I wish I had a copy of Eyes on the Prize. My daughter is eight years old, and I wonder as I write this if she is old enough to see with her own eyes her history as an American of African decent. I don't remember how old I was when I watched Roots, The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman, Glory, or other films that demonstrate the horror and soul-shaking atrocity that befell Black people from slavery to the Civil Rights Movement. Perhaps I was a few years older than she is now when I saw those first images of young Black teenagers marching for peace, fire hoses turned upon them, angry dogs set loose among them. Regardless, I don't think age alone can prepare any of us to see hatred and violence so flippantly enacted against people who have done nothing to provoke a depth of malice that is difficult to understand or comprehend.

I wonder how parents are using this day... this day off of school or work for most of us... to teach their children about King and his legacy. Are they reading the I Have a Dream speech? Are they checking out books from the library and reading them together around the kitchen table? Maybe they are talking about the back story... watching Ghandi... and explaining how his philosophy of non-violent social protest motivated and inspired King and his contemporaries to stand up and do something for change. Maybe they are attending a program in his honor. Maybe they are sleeping in, trying to de-stress, running errands, doing all of the things we find difficult to do from day to day because of the demands our culture places on our time.

I'm looking at the cover of this month's Shambhala Sun magazine. It features a picture of Martin with the caption All We Need is Love.  I just finished reading Charles Johnson's article, The King we Need. I'm in the middle of bell hooks' article Surrendered to Love: King's Legacy. Both hooks and Johnson take this opportunity to stress the significance of love. It reminds me of something Jamie Foxx said on Inside the Actor's Studio yesterday during the Pivot questionnaire. When asked "If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates," he says "I would want God to break down how he came up with love." Johnson and hooks are reminding us that love really is all powerful... that love really can make a difference. Are we listening? Are we really in tune with what Martin's legacy really is?

Johnson suggests that we have forgotten, that we have oversimplified the meaning of his thirty-nine year presence on earth:

Too many of us, especially those born after his assassination thirty seven years ago, see him only in the oversimplified terms of race—as an eloquent, segregation-era "voice of his people," frequently and falsely compared in political conversations with his very different (and philosophically antithetical) contemporary, Malcom X.

This is an article everyone should read... it skips over the popular messages and goes right to the bones... the Letter from a Birmingham Jail... the Drum Major Instinct... the progression of Martin's life and philosophies and how he found ways to make real the deepest convictions of his heart. If we only find ways to let love rule, ignoring at first politics, economics, and focusing instead on the person in front of us... If we only find ways to see each other not as who we are but who we are becomming, we would carry on King's vision and live his legacy, and show our children how it's done. We would fall into that natural progression that he did... starting from a solid spiritual base, moving out to help others, being unsatisfied until somehow we change the world.

I believe it is critical that we continue to celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr. I believe it is critical that we study him, honor him, appreciate him, resepect him. However I think it is inappropriate for us to wonder what our lives would be like if he remained among us. Jamie Foxx talked about the death of his grandmother... He called her the tool maker, explaining that she "gave him the tools" he needed to handle every situation, every challenge in his life. It would be appropriate for us to see Martin in this light... He was the ultimate tool maker. He gave us the tools. It's up to us to continue to use them.