-- Rumi |
Hoping that light really does dispel the darknessJournal entry - 9-15-01 (After reading the past few days of posts in the Whatever Works Wellness Mailing List)  This is a long page, far more journal entry than organized thoughts of any kind... --- It's most likely that all of us who have been reading and/or sharing in the recent whateverworks mailing list posts are able to see both sides of this pain when we are in a more balanced or detached frame of mind/body/spirit. I read about dogs not eating and other animals behaving in odd ways... It makes sense. We're all feeling tremendous, invisible pain. CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE COLLECTIVE UNCONSCIOUS Consider that you could measure a moment of anger, shock, offense, resentment, pain, terror or other fear, and call it a "unit". Consider that such a unit could be considered to have been injected into the collective consciousness of the world we know -- every time such a moment and such a feeling occurs. Consider that there were already many billions of such moments making up our collective fears of the darkness we all describe in so many diverse ways. World wars, oppressions, minimization of gender, race and culture. Loss of mothers, fathers, babies. Broken hearts, failed businesses, loneliness, genocide, theft, insults, stray bullets and bad grades... Every act and moment of pain and fear contributing to that collective energy, however great or small. The great pains are so heavy, though... The karmic debt is staggering. The weight of it is wet and sad and makes it hard to breathe... the shadows mixed inside are too diverse and fast moving for us to even understand why they engender such fearful reactions in us. Consider how much pain and death and suffering has accompanied the past century alone. Along with the wonders of growth, understanding, increased recognition of the rights of others, increased freedom to choose and act as we wish -- in living, birthing, marrying, divorcing, even dying... It all goes together, I know... the light and dark, the suffering and growth... but the amount of pain, the number of people killed in the 20th century alone... The number of 'units' of measure for such moments of pain was already quite large. - Then consider that millions, billions such units, of the most concentrated, undiluted and infectious kind, were injected into that already often aching numinous collective psyche in the horrible events Tuesday morning. So big and so invisible The shock wave of that injection of pain and suffering is enormous. The rings growing outward from such a giant stone dropped into our souls are reaching all of us, over and over again. No being can stand without swaying in its wake. Ask a tree of any kind to stand still, keep its leaves intact, and otherwise appear to be unaffected by a strong breeze, let alone a hurricane. It makes sense that our pets are behaving oddly. Our furniture is probably behaving oddly. In our current states of awakening (or non-awakening), we can't even accurately sense the effect of that energy on everything - *everything* -in our world. We just feel it all over... whether it's sadness, anger, fear, confusion, resolve, ennui or numbness. LOSS OF INNOCENCE AND LABELS OF GOOD & EVIL When I consider the overdose of such an injection, and the effect it has for generations, I understand better the idea of "sins of the fathers". Not that I believe in a universe of judgement and reward/punishment that passes such punishments or rewards on to the generations who follow, in any case -- more that energy is energy. It changes form, but isn't erased by ignoring its presence. Most of us who are white Americans, of any national mix, have had at least one discussion with someone in which one party or the other said something like: "I'm not a racist. Why does every black person act like I am?" orNot great examples, I know. But I hope you get the idea, and are familiar enough with the mood of such dialogue. My only response, as one of those white people, has been something like this: "It's true. I didn't do it. My grandfather didn't, either. No one in my family tree ever 'did' those things. But the quality of life, of privilege and opportunity I have enjoyed as a white American (and white American male, to compound it) was built on the backs of those black men and women. On the losses of those native Americans. The world I know was built, in many ways, with their assistance, or in part, by their losses. I cannot deny it. I cannot reverse it. I should not add to the ancient karmic debt by remaining unaware of these facts or by failing to show respect for these facts. I can only acknowledge that in some part, the pleasures I know have been made possible by the acts of others in the past -- both the oppressors and the oppressed. The guilty and the innocent."So who is really innocent? How can we judge good and evil? The roles we play change throughout time, and they vary based on perception & ponts of view. America is the great giver of aid. The forgiver of billions in debt. The feeder of the world. America is also the conquering force on the North American Continent. The breaker of promises on reservation land. The refiner and exporter of global consumer mindlessness. We are not evil. We are not always heroes, either. We've been both, as America, because we are all both, as individuals. How real is what I think I see? I agree that it is important to listen to what those outside us have to say about how we look through their eyes. Daniel Quinn's first book, "Ishmael", was valuable for that very reason. It was able to tell our story through the eyes of an animal. The view Ishmael has of 'people', and of our accomplishments, is vastly different than that which we can have of ourselves. It is therefore very valuable. "A Time to Kill", John Grisham's first novel, told a story of senseless violence, retribution and racial tension. It is, to many, his best work. Those of you who've read it or seen the movie made from it certainly know the power of that moment in the courtroom, when after having told, in painful detail, the story of the little girl who had been raped, beaten and tossed off a bridge to die, of how she suffered and was physically damaged for life, how she'd never be able to bear children, the attorney paused and said something like: "Do you see her? Can you see her there on the ground, left for dead? Do you see her? Now, imagine that she's white."Some of us can't accept the impact of that moment. We want to claim that her race or other factor plays no part in our feelings. I doubt there is much truth to our claims. I think we can't help but be who we are. I cannot know, for example, how it feels to be a woman. I cannot know. Really. Ever. Of course, I cannot know how it feels to be any other person, regardless of 'typing'. But the typing, the visual, auditory and other differences that separate us always separate us. We can improve understanding, but even the most open minded will usually be unable, in this current state of evolution and consciousness, to transcend the limitations of our physical forms and environmental influences. A HARD THOUGHT FOR ME THIS WEEK When I wonder how people can do these horrible things, when I think about all those people dying, all the loss we are feeling, how they were just minding their own business and unspeakable, violent death rained out of nowhere in an ultimate act of cowardice and hatred, I can't imagine where such terrorists can be recruited. How they got that way. Why they hate us so. Is it really their Islamic beliefs? I don't think it's that simple. I began to try, however poorly, to imagine it from a different perspective... Reports that at least one of the hijackers had been observed drinking and making drunken threats on America would indicate that his faith was not driving his actions, at least not in any religiously sincere manner, because no Muslim who is 'in the faith' consumes alcohol. It's just not done, I'm told. So, beliefs probably played a big part, but I began to think it was more likely that the beliefs were of a different kind... ...The kind a child develops growing up without a father or a monther, or in a country pulverized by bombs and crippled by shortages of every kind. The kind a young man or woman develops while growing up in a society cut off from outside news, hearing only the stories of the evil empire, seeing only the evidence of want and loss. Being told that the last 8-10 years of pain and suffering in his world can be blamed on such giant, faraway places as England and America. He can say he isn't to blame for the actions of his leaders. He can say he is not to blame for the behavior of those who came before him. He can say he only wants to have a life in which he is safe to eat, sleep, work, love and play in relative peace and freedom. In relative security. Just like the people in those other places. Just like the ones on TV. Just like the ones who are supposedly still attacking his country with periodic bombings, years after the bloody war. Maybe he's grown-up being taught that his countrymen are being killed by age-old regional enemies who are financed by faraway, prosperous westerners who neither know nor care about his reality. Many have said the bombing of Hiroshima saved more lives in the long run. It's probably true that short, decisive violence is far less damaging than long term violence like that experienced in Ireland, the Middle East and in recent history, Iraq. A child can't understand. Can't accept such horror without being shaped by it. He or she has to create explanations for why a father leaves or dies, why a mother dies... why life is the way it is. Why others seem to have it better. Why he or she has suffered this way since infancy. And the child grows up to be an adult someday. An adult with a deeply etched, unwavering belief that, based on his own personal evidence and experience, the suffering he has known is clearly the work of a group of people different from him. People who are bent on making his life, or that of his leaders, hell, for years. Others have shared that belief and reinforced it. Every story he's heard or read, in which fear is a key ingredient, every bit of blame he has heard attributed to people of his land and faith fuels his mishapen hatred, just as every story with bits of blame pointed at the West fuels the perceived justice, balance and certainty of the beliefs. That adult might have the capacity to do what these people did this week. But that's not hard to understand. How many of us have felt a tiny, perhaps easily denied, but real nonetheless second of anxiety, fear or judgement at the site of an Arab, Muslim or other 'different' person on the street, or in TIME magazine? How many people see a photo of a man in a turban and subconsciously think 'terrorist' or 'extremist'? How can they not feel similar judgements about us? WHY IT IS SO HARD Hard to even write these many words. Hard to think of sharing them. Hard to anticipate the inevitable misunderstandings that will result in the minds of any potential reader. But necessary. Because after all this long, drawn-out typing into the box this morning. After all the weight of such words and seeming hopelessness of the situation. The one, tiny, shining truth is this: Although the pain felt by others is real, heavy and collected in that shared unconscious of the world, from ancient times to recent times, from BC to AD, Chinese, Japanese, German, Nazi, Jew, Native American, British, Roman, American, Greek, African, Communist, Capitalist, Oppressor, Oppressed, on and on... The power of darkness is still less than the power of light. I don't claim to be wise enough to judge President Bush or anyone else, any more than I could have judged Harry Truman in 1945. Even though I say only light can dispel darkness, I don't know what 'right action' means when darkness is everywhere already. When the fight is in full swing, maybe it does take a strong blow to stop the long and drawn-out slug fest that would surely cripple or kill all involved someday... I don't know. I don't know if there is a hole to be kicked in a wall of this darkened room, which however painful, will open a way for light to come in. I only know the basic belief in the light itself, and in its power to change the darkness. A time of stillness, however brief, can help decide what action must be taken, as long as the eventual goal is truly that of having light instead of dark. BECAUSE IT DOES SHINE One light, however small, dispels darkness. Adding darkness to the dark doesn't change its tint, and doesn't diminish it in any way. Adding light changes everything. So, even though the Karmic weight of the accumulated pain is so great, and seems so dark. It has always been good to realize that one candle really does dispel darkness. That one act of kindness really can shift moods of blame towards lighter spaces. That a genuine apology can undo days of anger and plans for revenge in our personal lives. No one can apologize for this horror. No one can make it go away. Adding dark to the growing darkness cannot help, either. What world produced this pain, these people, this monstrous behavior? Ours. We are all connected in too many ways to see from day to day. Driving our SUVs to the malls and enjoying restaurant meals with our kids after Sunday meeting, reading bedtime stories and switching on the news to see what the world has done while we were living our relatively comfortable lives leaves us in a position in which we feel justified to shriek at the horrors of this week. But as long as we don't know who makes what we buy, at what cost it has been produced, as long as we can ask how THEY can do these things without really looking at how WE are living and at how our living is affecting the world, we can remain unaware of our impact on the world that is producing all of us. Us and them. Them and us. Their acts are too terrible to imagine. Yet they've happened. I don't know what to do. Even after these 200+ lines of words on a screen, I feel less sure than when I started. Except this: When I am hurt, it adds to the hurt of everyone, everywhere. If I pee in our community drinking water, it's gonna be in my next glass of water, too. If someone steals from me, the energy created by the act will go with that stolen object and remain in it, passing into its possessors for a long time to come. The fact that the next recipient accepts the stolen item without knowing it was stolen will not change the energy of the violence inherent in the original theft. It will affect the item and holder alike. If I fashion a lovely gold ring from a collection of bits of gold, one of which was perhaps a gold filling from the tooth of a victim in a concentration camp, the energy and pain of her loss is still part of the material with which I fashion that lovely ring. It will have an impact on the world whether I know it, believe it, deny it or not. How much of such gold might be mindlessly possessed by people today, with no hope of ever receiving release of the negative energy via some act of respectful recognition, some ritual of peace? ALL CONNECTED It is all connected. I am connected with slavery, murder and oppression. I am connected with sacrifice, generosity and selfless giving so that others might be free. Rallying around the flag is an important part of our coping and eventual healing. It can also be an important part of preparing for war, of distinquishing between the supposed us and them, of creating the energy needed to do what we feel we must do. These terrorists no doubt had a lot of energy created in order to commit the crimes they committed on Tuesday. No sane person could do it. Only a fanatical hatred, fueled by something over time, could create that kind of energy. I haven't participated in the wars over Jerusalem for these many years. I have no personal quarrel with Muslim people, I haven't sought to keep them from prospering, or bombed Iraq for the past 10 years, but to a kid who grew up in that world, I might be an easily blamed member of the larger group he sees as responsible for his suffering. Especially if I am perceived as some selfish, consuming, unaware person of wealth who cares for nothing outside my own little world. It doesn't matter if it's not true. If that is how I am perceived by someone, I am an easily blamed member of the oppressor's camp. Thousands of innocent people here have been hurt and killed this week by mindless violence. How many thousands have been hurt and killed over there and elsewhere by actions that I have not personally set in motion. How can I, or any other American, be in any way responsible for the horror those terrorists perpetrated this week? Responsible isn't the word. But we are all ...connected. It is all connected. Our way of life and theirs have too many interconnected causal elements. There is no separation possible. I can't change the past. I can't heal this wound. I can only work on my own heart. I can attempt to live more mindfully. I can try not to add any more pain to the cosmic pile than is absolutely necessary with my constant in and out breath in my living upon this planet. I can be aware of the connectedness of it all. If nothing else, in my hour of deepest pain, fear, resentment and forgetfulness, when I want more than anything to remove the horrible feelings from my heart by projecting them onto another, I can maybe... just maybe... stop long enough once in a while maybe once for every one of the 100 times that I can't stop just once in a while and remember that only light will change the darkness. My only alchemy is grace. The only miracle I can hope for is the moment of mindfulness that might save me from adding any more to the psychic pollution of the world in my time of fear and doubt. The pause that might enable a tiny light, however brief, to be placed into that pool of the collective unconscious there... And maybe find a few others burning there Maybe begin to see the shadows amidst the black of night, then the shades of grey shaped by the light, even colors to which I'd once been blind. A flower grows because it craves the light, not because it fears the dark Fear is fear is fear is fear. It has no real direction. It can paralyze as easily as it can prod. It can cause the growth to go blindly in any direction. The warmth and pull of light is more certain. The power of intention is the difference. If we grow because we love life, not because we fear death, then our growth will be more vital and of more value. If we can recognize the parts we all play in both the wonder and sadness of our world, without falling into guilt and shame over the sad parts, or into pride and arrogance over the wonderous ones, if we can add even one mindful moment a day in our personal lives, if we can act in the moment without the weight of the past or the future encumbering our actions, if we can create that tiny gap in the universe, the present moment, through which all that is new comes, we might be able to turn this present pain into one of the key steps to a new world, instead of into a new world war. I'm so human, it's terrifying. With less than one eye open I try to see my world for what it is. I pray for grace to see it more clearly, and to be able, in the moment required, to act with mindfulness and compassion instead of fear. I pray for grace to make it through the times I am not able to be that way and for all of us, again and again, that we might be able to awaken a little more every day, even in the darkest of mornings. |
Copyright 1992 - 2012 by Randy Weeks
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