Green Zen

Today's post comes from my herbal medicine blog at NGTHerbals. Here is an excerpt.

Sometime in the middle of the 8th century, a Zen hermit living in China penned a now famous poem entitled "Song of the Grass Roof Hermitage." It begins with the following lines:

"I've built a grass hut where there's nothing of value.

After eating, I relax and enjoy a nap.

When it was completed, fresh weeds appeared.

Now it's been lived in - covered by weeds."

Whenever I work with the plants, I try and remember these words. The relaxed attitude about it all. The lack of fixation on certain things having value. The surrender to the fact that no matter what, there are always weeds. All around us, and inside our minds as well.

I try and remember, but more often than not I forget. Or loose track while I pick, pluck, and hack away, claiming the burdock roots for their liver health giving properties, while thrusting away the overgrown grape vines that have no clear use.

If we truly want to be healed and liberated, we need to bow down to the mystery of it all.

Digital Buddha Nature

The other day, I was reading about how people are responding to the "ghost" profiles of dead folks on Facebook. Some feel comforted that something is publicly left of their friend or loved one. Others find it an unnerving reminder, an unwanted ghost that keeps reappearing. There's a sense that those who are hooked in to the Facebook world, or social media world in general, are grieving differently. That a certain element of grief has gone public, where not too long ago it probably would have been totally private. I don't think this is bad or good per se, but it is interesting how something digital - like a Facebook profile - can have so much emotion attached to it.

I sometimes feel similarly about old blog posts. This one of mine from over two years ago, about Buddhism and Ayn Rand, suddenly has been receiving comments again. It certainly doesn't affect me in the way the Facebook profile of a dead friend or loved one probably would, but somehow I feel a bit of ghost all the same. Ayn Rand seems to linger in this country in ways I'd rather her and her views didn't. But there's also the blog post itself, words I typed in days gone by, that are returning, great reminders that the past is also the present. No separation, whether I like it or not.

It's easy to think the internet is an entirely different world, or something not real at all, just a playland or workspace for humans. But it's part of this universe as much as the dirt and snow on my boots. That's oddly comforting, and discomforting, at the same time.

Zen Images

I wrote this last night. Thought it was a good fit for DH.

Enough

I wrote a beautiful poem,
but the words have now escaped me.
All that remains are
the calls of the sparrows,
sheared lambs quarters,
and a love of the air
moving through my lungs,
ever the reminder
of how being alive
is enough,
no matter what
they say.

This morning, I started a photography blog. Early on in the history of Dangerous Harvests, I frequently featured photos of mine. However, more often than not, the photos didn't really go with the text. Furthermore, I started finding myself going out and looking for pics to illustrate some bit of text. It felt forced, and the quality of the images suffered. So, I stopped.

More recently, my sister started her own photo blog. She has been a professional art photographer for several years now, and decided to experiment with taking and posting images everyday. It's been inspiring to see her stick with it. I doubt I will update mine that often, but not only do I take pictures on a regular basis, but I also have a pretty deep archive of work I can add as well.

May you be inspired by our images. Have an excellent Sunday!

Race, Racism, and the Buddhoblogosphere

As seems to be the case about every three or four months, there has been a lot of discussion in the Buddhoblogosphere about race, racism, and dharma practice. It's very telling how race and racism tend to tip over people who otherwise demonstrate clear thinking and compassion in their words. People just struggle terribly with these issues.

Obviously, the generations and generations of hatred and ignorance spawned by both individual and systemic racism aren't going to suddenly disappear. It's going to take a hell of a lot more listening, a hell of a lot more refraining from spouting off from whatever woundedness we each have, and a hell of a lot more willingness to change (individually and collectively) in order for a more just world to emerge.

Here are a few quotes from different posts addressing the race and racism. The first is from a more secular source, the blog Feministe. Tami, a woman of color, writes:

Today, when an “ism” shows its face, too much public sympathy rests with the offender and not the offended. As I’ve written before, in these times, hearing someone branded a racist is likely to upset more folks than encountered racism. Stick any bias in there–sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia…and the result is the same. It is, I think, the way the status quo defends itself when it gets tired of treating certain people equally.

One thing I will quibble with is labeling "people" racist because it's really a particular set of thoughts, words, and actions that are racist, and not any entire person. In addition, anyone wanting to have a dialogue with others whose thoughts, words, and/or actions are racist probably shouldn't begin with labeling said folks "racist."

With that said, I really find Tami's points so painfully true, at least in the United States right now. The reality, President Obama notwithstanding, is that the lion's share of power and privilege in this country still lies with white folks, individually and collectively. The historical legacy, which continues to play out today, very clearly favored white Americans in every sense from the nation's founding. This is our collective karma, whether you like it or not. As a white male, even though I have had my struggles, and have experienced direct injustice, it in no way, shape or form is equivalent to that of people of color living in my nation. I don't walk around feeling guilty about this, but I do make every effort to listen, pause, and re-examine my views around these issues - precisely because as a member of the most privileged group in my society, it's so easy for me not to. Just as the practice of meditation might be viewed as a radical act in a society addicted to speed and instant gratification, so, too, I think is the act of remaining vigilant about race and racism when everything in society supports doing the opposite.

Adam, over at Fly Like a Crow, recently wrote this:

Recently, a fellow blogger Kyle wrote a bit about race and privilege and then there was quite a discussion in the comments. Check it out if you want, though you won’t see any comments by me.

That’s because I don’t want to talk about race. I know that it is an important issue. I know that issues about race are bound to come up when dealing with Buddhism, bloggers, and inflated egos on the internet. Some of these discussions are very important. But I don’t want any part of them. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m white. I’ve simply had it with issues of race. (and yes, I understand the irony of this post)

I think most every has had it with issues of race. I know I have. I'd love to dump all the samsara on the planet into a garbage can and go on with my life, too, but it's not going to happen.

Before you take this as a condemnation of Adam's view, I think it's important to recognize that where he is coming from right now is a place all of us have been about some issue or another in our lives. Exhaustion and burn out happen, and during those times, it's best to do what you can to rest. I think it's important when considering large scale social issues that have impacted people for generations, to realize that they require a wide variety of responses over a very long period of time from many, many, many people. No one person will end racism and the suffering behind it. And I really think that sometimes, the most appropriate response one can offer is simply to offer metta to all beings during your meditation - that we all may be liberated from the misery of racism.

On the other hand, it's vitally important to recognize that opportunities to rest are not equivalent. I remember what it was like to be a white teenager hanging out on the streets, in parks, at school, and in other public places with black and latino teenagers. Whenever authority figured entered the picture, it was rarely I who had pressure or heavy questioning placed upon me. And it was often I who received comments like "You're smart. You should do something more with your life than hang around with these guys." In fact, some of those guys even said as much, never mind that they were intelligent and capable themselves. When I behaved "badly" or questionably, the presence of my "smarts" alone seemed to allow me a pass most of the time with teachers, school administration, and other authorities that came into my life. The same wasn't true for my friends of color.

So, I'm convinced that both the opportunity to rest, and the quality of that rest, are privileged. Race, class, gender, and sexual orientation all play roles in how much opportunity people have to step away from any given social problem that's impacting their lives. (Hint: every social problem impacts all of us, regardless of who we are.)

The wonderful thing about Buddhist teachings is that even though these disparities are present, anyone, from any background, can learn to how to rest better, listen better, respond better - and most importantly, anyone can be liberated through practice, regardless of circumstances.

However, part of awakening in my view is learning to be fully present to our conditioning, to see that how we are cannot be divorced from the history of where we grew up, as well as the actual people and places we experienced.

Maia, over at Jizo Chronicles, provides some of this wider perspective in comments she wrote right after Hurricane Katrina five years ago. As the people down there continue to struggle in many ways, it's vital to continue to consider why it is that certain groups in certain places are allowed to suffer more than others.

To witness the travesty that has been New Orleans over these past five days is heartbreaking beyond belief. And outrageous.

Phrases comes to my mind, and at first I thought them too inflammatory to write here. But I will anyway, because I want to wake us up. I want to wake myself up. Genocide. Ethnic Cleansing. Economic Cleansing. What else to call it when thousands of poor, Black people are allowed to die in front of our eyes? And not just any death – excruciating deaths, brought about by lack of food, water… drowning deaths because people have waited for rooftop rescues which never came, and while they watched other corpses float by… children dying, old people dying, disabled people dying.

The really sad thing is, I’m not sure much has changed since August 2005.

May all beings be safe.

And may we all be liberated. Peace.