Buddhist Tensions: the Poetry of Ho Xuan Huong

Picking Flowers

If you want to pick flowers, you have to hike.
Climbing up, don't worry about your weary bones.
Pluck the low branches, pull down the high.
Enjoy alike the spent blossoms, the tight buds.

Ho Xuan Huong (1772-1822 / Vietnam)

Vietnamese poet Ho Xuan Huong was a powerfully independent and outspoken woman living at a time when that was very rare. The energy and mastery of her poetry was so high that it helped elevate the status of Vietnamese to that of a literary language. Although her words are infused with Buddhist understandings and images, Ho Xuan Huong had a defiant, highly critical relationship with the Buddhism of her native Vietnam.

One of the tension points present in her work revolves around sex and sexuality. She was a frequent critic of the pious sounding Vietnamese monks who scoffed at women expressing themselves sexually, but then courted and slept with female devotees and concubines. In addition, she fiercely questioned the double standards of a patriarchal society where men did as they pleased when it came to romantic relationships, while women were confined to roles of dutiful quietude.

Ho Xuan Huong was anything but quiet about sexuality, as the following poem attests.

Swinging

Praise whoever raised these poles
for some to swing while others watch.

A boy pumps, then arcs his back.
The shapely girl shoves up her hips.

Four pink trousers flapping hard,
two pairs of legs stretched side by side.

Spring games. Who hasn't known them?
Swingposts removed, the holes lie empty.

Many of Ho Xuan Huong's poems read like expressions of freedom. Not longing for it, but actually living and breathing it. If you want to pick flowers, you have to hike. Climbing up, don't worry about your weary bones. Literally, there's the experience of climbing up a hill or mountain. Where I'm living right now, there is a small mountain that the locals like to climb to get exercise and look out over the city in the valley below. I have climbed to the top multiple times. Every time, there has been a point where I consciously chose to be ok with having some aches and pains, and then - as if by magic - I experienced a jolt of renewed energy that helped me reach the summit. Metaphorically, the same lines of the poem can taken as a directive for life. If you want to reach your dreams, you have to let go of fretting and obsessing over every, little obstacle that appears along the way.

As many great poets do, Ho Xuan Huong captures beautifully the fleeting quality of our lives. Particularly that of high moments, and how a wrong decision while on top of the mountain can bring you tumbling down. In another poem laden with sexual images and tension, Huong offers both high level pleasure and a caution to not go too far.

The Jackfruit

I am like a jackfruit on the tree.
To taste you must plug me quick, while fresh:
the skin rough, the pulp thick, yes,
but oh, I warn you against touching --
the rich juice will gush and stain your hands

Beyond pleasure, the richness of the natural world explodes from Huong's poems. Clearly in love with all the wonders of the waxing seasons, spring and summer, she readily invokes the beauty and vibrancy of each in her words.

Spring-Watching Pavilion

A gentle spring evening arrives
airily, unclouded by worldly dust.

Three times the bell tolls echoes like a wave.
We see heaven upside-down in sad puddles.

Love's vast sea cannot be emptied.
And springs of grace flow easily everywhere.

Where is nirvana?
Nirvana is here, nine times out of ten

Here, Huong offers a poem that appears to be passive, but actually is active and full of tension. A gentle, somewhat melancholy start paired with a fierce, declarative ending. Talk of sadness coupled with the deepest expression of love itself.

Overall, she leaves us with an overriding message pointing directly to spiritual liberation. One that isn't separated from the seemingly mundane and material world around us. The pulpy jackfruit is love. The sad puddles are love. The hike to pick flowers is love.

And love is liberation. Available to all, regardless of who we are perceived to be (or not be) in the world.

Study the Whole Self, Not the Marketed Self

Marketing of the self. Aren't we taught to do that pretty early on in life? You gotta stand out or you'll be forgotten, right? You better promote or you will never be successful, right?

I believe there is a double bind around all of this in modern societies. The human tendency to self cherish is the main dish. Humans have been eating it, probably since the beginning of our species. In addition to the main dish is a set of side dishes called consumerism, capitalism, and commodification. Ever seductive, they add endless flavors and textures onto the main dish. I suppose it might be the case that plain old self cherishing gets kind of dull after awhile. It's so much more exciting to be the hot, new product on the block. Or the respected, reliable old one.

The pressure to be a product is damn strong, so much so that even spiritual teachers are falling for it in droves. Being a person with some wisdom mixed with a bag full of delusion doesn't feel good enough. Being a person who takes a shit and can't quite wipe it all clean isn't sexy enough. Being a person who is articulate one minute, and has nothing helpful to say the next just doesn't cut it. And so, we end up with teachers with trademarks at the end of their names. Teachers who spew endless amounts of flowery language. Teachers who market themselves as healers, and then end up abusing the hell out of anyone who gets close to them.

It is any wonder that so many of us are so confused in this life?

Dogen said we need to study the self to forget the self and be liberated by the whole of the universe. This is a great teaching ... and if you think that the self doesn't include the world around you, you're missing the boat. If you think the self doesn't include the racism, sexism, classism, consumerism, warfare, and violence done in the name of religion that we see going on every day, you're simply not studying the self.

I think a lot of Buddhist folks end up studying the "marketed self," as opposed to the whole self. The marketed self might be full of emotional warts and conflicted narratives, but it somehow is treated as a stand alone object, outside of the culture of the society it lives in. This is particularly the case for folks living fairly privileged lives. It's easy to ignore that the murder of black folks in the streets by police officers is just as much about you as the feelings you've held for 30 years about the challenges you had in your childhood.

Some people get really irritated with me when I start talking about systems and collective conditions. Speaking up about white supremacy and systemic racism in white dominated Buddhist centers, for example, tends to create some upset and discomfort. People say things like "spiritual practice is about you. Focus on yourself and stop pointing the finger at others." But this isn't about being petty and judgmental. It's about cultivating an awareness of the larger patterns that are influencing our thinking and behavior. About seeing much of what we see as "normal" and "true" isn't, and that to the extent that we continue mindlessly eating it, we'll be used and controlled by it. And finally, it's about being willing to change and act in support of liberation for all, not just the privileged few.

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.

Diving into Freedom

One of the great temptations of human existence is to base your life on contingency. That you will actually take the courageous step once all the conditions are absolutely and utterly right for you. When you have the right boss, when you have the right job, when the car payments have been made, when the kids are through college, when you're on your deathbed. When you're dead. It would be certainly easier then. The though is that if only I can control the climate of my existence and get the temperature exactly right, then when I'm completely comfortable, and have a sense of freedom, and a sense that I'm not beholden to anything, then I'll take a courageous step in my life. Of course, these conditions almost never come.

David Whyte

Yes, this contingency seeking has been a common experience of mine. Tweaking and fussing, hoping and cajoling some situation in my life so that it will be a "safer," more predictable platform from which to jump off of.

Reminds me of the first time I jumped off a diving board. I was in swimming class, probably two or three years older already than most of the kids around me. The class teacher had gotten me to go up the stairs - how, I don't know. My knees were knocking, and I felt quite weak and dizzy as I went up, but somehow I made it to the top. Standing out on the board and looking out over the pool, I couldn't imagine jumping, let alone going upside down.

The teacher held up a long pole with a little hook on it and said I could grab it and use it as a support while I jumped. My young mind believed this for some reason, and I bent down and got into position to dive. Still absolutely scared, but somehow the sight of that pole kept me there. Then I heard the teacher count down - Three! Two! One! I stood still. Completely frozen. Someone said "Jump!" I looked at the huge pool under me and didn't flinch. Someone then said "Try again." And the count down began again. Three! Two! One! ...

As I began to move through the air, the teacher yanked the pole away, and a sudden racing shot through my body. It was too late to go back, and yet the fear ruined my form, and I ended up smacking the surface of the water with my back. I went under, and sunk almost to the bottom of the pool. Thoughts of drowning, which I knew nothing about, but could imagine - flooded my mind. And as it did, I saw the surface of the water coming closer and closer, despite anything in my head. Surfacing, I looked for the teacher, and said something about her taking the pole away, but the experience was clearly an example of the worthlessness of contingency seeking.

Thing is, though, when I look at how I have led much of my life, it's not much different than that little boy freezing, trying to calculate things out. Too much waiting for a pole to show up. Not enough just diving, taking the fears and calculations along for the ride.

But that's not the end of the story. Or even the whole story of what was. Liberation comes sometimes through recognizing the gaps in what you believe.

I've been only that scared and calculating little boy. Leaps have been made, small and large. Keep going there. Keep going there. Just like the breath in meditation. That's the path. That's the pool of freedom, ever ready for you to go swimming in.

A Buddhist Liberation from Hatred

"He abused me, he beat me, he defeated me, he robbed me,"--in those who harbor such thoughts hatred will never cease.

"He abused me, he beat me, he defeated me, he robbed me,"--in those who do not harbor such thoughts hatred will cease.

For hatred does not cease by hatred at any time: hatred ceases by love alone.

These lines are from the first chapter of the Dhammapada, one of the best known collections of teachings from the Theravadan Buddhist canon. A few thousand years later, they are still completely relevant and contemporary.

After my parents divorced, my mother met a man that triggered a lot of hatred within my teenage mind. He could be highly controlling and demanding at times. I still remember him lingering over my should as I washed dishes, waiting until I was finished so he could inspect for spots, and make me wash them again. I hated him then, and for years afterward, whenever his name came up in conversation, or his image came into my thoughts, a tirade of miserable commentary poured out.

It took a dream I had a few months ago to finally break free of any lingering rage and hatred I had towards this man. Some fifteen years after I last saw him. He came to me in the dream seeking to hear my side of the story. Of the suffering I had experienced. And so I told him what I could, while we wound around the city in different forms of transit, until I suddenly woke up and immediately realized something had shifted completely.

In this way, he was a great teacher for me - someone I never want to see again, but who gave me the opportunity to experience a hatred deep enough to understand the damage hatred causes. None of my childhood "enemies" did this really; nor anyone else since.

The thing about the Dhammapada quote above is that people often want to leap from one end to the other. Don't you think? Instead of doing the difficult work of experiencing the pain and roughness of what's present, we want to have that shit over with so we can go on appearing more and more bodhisattva-like in the world. It just doesn't work that way though.

This is why we have to do continuous practice. Making the effort, and letting go of gaining any benefit from that effort. This is the way, and what working with teachings like the verses from the Dhammapada is all about.

The Pool of Freedom

One of the great temptations of human existence is to base your life on contingency. That you will actually take the courageous step once all the conditions are absolutely and utterly right for you. When you have the right boss, when you have the right job, when the car payments have been made, when the kids are through college, when you're on your deathbed. When you're dead. It would be certainly easier then. The though is that if only I can control the climate of my existence and get the temperature exactly right, then when I'm completely comfortable, and have a sense of freedom, and a sense that I'm not beholden to anything, then I'll take a courageous step in my life. Of course, these conditions almost never come.

David Whyte

Yes, this contingency seeking has been a common experience of mine. Tweaking and fussing, hoping and cajoling some situation in my life so that it will be a "safer," more predictable platform from which to jump off of.

Reminds me of the first time I jumped off a diving board. I was in swimming class, probably two or three years older already than most of the kids around me. The class teacher had gotten me to go up the stairs - how, I don't know. My knees were knocking, and I felt quite weak and dizzy as I went up, but somehow I made it to the top. Standing out on the board and looking out over the pool, I couldn't imagine jumping, let alone going upside down.

The teacher held up a long pole with a little hook on it and said I could grab it and use it as a support while I jumped. My young mind believed this for some reason, and I bent down and got into position to dive. Still absolutely scared, but somehow the sight of that pole kept me there. Then I heard the teacher count down - Three! Two! One! I stood still. Completely frozen. Someone said "Jump!" I looked at the huge pool under me and didn't flinch. Someone then said "Try again." And the count down began again. Three! Two! One! ...

As I began to move through the air, the teacher yanked the pole away, and a sudden racing shot through my body. It was too late to go back, and yet the fear ruined my form, and I ended up smacking the surface of the water with my back. I went under, and sunk almost to the bottom of the pool. Thoughts of drowning, which I knew nothing about, but could imagine - flooded my mind. And as it did, I saw the surface of the water coming closer and closer, despite anything in my head. Surfacing, I looked for the teacher, and said something about her taking the pole away, but the experience was clearly an example of the worthlessness of contingency seeking.

Thing is, though, when I look at how I have led much of my life, it's not much different than that little boy freezing, trying to calculate things out. Too much waiting for a pole to show up. Not enough just diving, taking the fears and calculations along for the ride.

But that's not the end of the story. Or even the whole story of what was. Liberation comes sometimes through recognizing the gaps in what you believe.

I've been only that scared and calculating little boy. Leaps have been made, small and large. Keep going there. Keep going there. Just like the breath in zazen. That's the path. That's the pool of freedom, ever ready for you to go swimming in.

What is truly necessary for living a liberated life?

“We should not have anything that is not necessary.” San Francisco Zen Center founder Suzuki Roshi.

This morning, I stumbled upon this quote in a fellow Buddhist blogger's post. It got me thinking about stuff. Literally the things we claim ownership over. What fills our houses and apartments. And what often gets in the way of our liberation work.

I was a collector when I was younger. It was a family thing really. We had a lot of antique stuff, which bred other sorts of collections as well. Clothing in closets. Things to play with and forget about. A need for numerous boxes.

At some point or another, I had collections of the following items: political buttons, buttons for a local festival called the St. Paul Winter Carnival, rocks, bottle caps, old bottles, musical albums (particularly ska and indie rock), every book I could find by Herman Hesse, Janette Winterson, Robert Bly, Carson McCullers, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Joseph Campbell, Thomas Merton, C.G. Jung, and several others. Buddhist books. Newspaper clippings of sporting events. Sports memorabilia. A board of pinned butterflies and months. Bookmarks.

And that's only the things I can remember as I write this.

I have said to people many times that I'm kind of a minimalist. Which is definitely true these days, but actually wasn't true even six or seven years ago. Living without a lot of things around, as well as the compulsion to gather many more specific things, is something that developed gradually and I can't help but think as a result of all the years of Zen practice and study.

Somewhere along the line, collecting and hording started to drop off. The "need" to have every book or CD by so and so just didn't matter anymore. The idea that my free time should be structured in part around heading to some store to purchase some object ceased to call me. Which when I think about it, is a pretty major change.

I have written a lot about the sickness of consumerism, how it defines and limits our lives in so many ways. But until I saw that quote this morning, I hadn't really reflected on how far I have come myself.

Less than five years ago, a long term relationship I was in ended. And when I think about the time I spent with my ex-girlfriend, no small part of it seemed to be built around going to bookstores and CD shops looking for something or another. We also did a lot of hiking, traveling, and event going, but there was a default around shopping that is so very clear to me now. That relationship is just one example of many I could write about.

Humans are good at justifying wanting more and claiming it as "need." Our mainstream economy is built around making profit through those falsified needs.

When was the last time you asked yourself what is truly necessary for living a liberated life? Maybe it's a regular practice, and maybe you have never asked that question at all.

What have you collected over the years? Did it bring you joy in the past? Does it now? How much time and energy do you use to maintain said collections?

*In the photo, I'm hauling weeds to the compost pile. What "weeds" could you let go of today?

Wasting Time

A friend of mine, who has been struggling to make a few key decisions in her life, said to me something like "I don't want to live the rest of my life doing the same things." But then she goes back to doing so, for now (that's what we all think, for now).

Like my friend, I have done the "for now" return many times.

This returning doesn't define either of us, but it does make me think that the mind is so desperate for things to be stable and predictable, even if it's causing a crap load of suffering.

We aren't patient enough to let things fall apart on their own accord. To do only what is necessary, and then get out of the way.

When Shitou wrote of not wasting time, I think he was talking about everything extra.

The endless rounds of blather about making changes (soon).

The pressured effort to make things change (sooner).

The fussing over or fighting whatever is happening now.

People, myself included, seem to do everything in our power to resist liberation. It's like we are addicted to punishing ourselves.

As if it's not enough to experience the pain the first time around.

Yoga and Contentment

The second niyama discussed in Patanjali's Yoga Sutras is santosha or contentment. The thinking is easy. In order to achieve great happiness, learn to be content with what you have and accept what is. Let go of expectations and rest easy in the flow of life. Learn that the state of mind does not depend on any external status or material things. The state of your mind and happiness depends on your perspective and willingness to remain calm with each success and failure...

The easiest way to practice santosha is to find gratitude in your life daily. Each day wake up and count at least 10 things you have to be grateful for. In the same way, seek abundance in your life in all that is around you. The sun in the sky, the green grass, the breeze that wisps across your neck. Make the most out of every situation...

The above is from the current post on the blog Capricious Yogi. I think it's a pretty decent summary and practice offering, and obviously somewhat similar to what I wrote in a recent post about gratitude.

Here is a little more specific focus on the verse from the Yoga Sutra in question.

2.42 From an attitude of contentment (santosha), unexcelled happiness, mental comfort, joy, and satisfaction is obtained.
(santosha anuttamah sukha labhah)

santosha = contentment
anuttamah = unexcelled, extreme, supreme
sukha = pleasure, happiness, comfort, joy, satisfaction
labhah = is acquired, attained, gained

Santosha brings happiness and joy: From an attitude of contentment (santosha), unexcelled happiness, mental comfort, joy, and satisfaction is obtained.

Contentment comes from within: We humans seem to always be seeking satisfaction in the external world and our internal fantasies. Only when we comfortably accept what we currently have will be able to do the practices that lead to the highest realization.

I've noticed lately how often yoga teachers and students seem to lean on the translations "comfort" and "happiness" when discussing santosha. I don't think it's an accident, and I do think it can create limits on how people perceive and enact the teachings.

Simply put, finding comfort and happiness are two of the grand addictions of modern, Western life. And even though it doesn't take a lot to see that what the Yoga Sutras are speaking about isn't the same as pop culture is speaking about, the very words can be Pavlovian triggers for many of us, regardless of how much practice we do.

So, what is contentment really? And how might we fully embody and express it?

To me, contentment is fairly easy when things in my life are not too difficult. But what about in those situations where you're mad as hell, and others are mad as hell at you? Or when you're surrounded by people who are upset, depressed, outraged, or even hateful?

How might you fully embody and express contentment there?

If you're like me, you probably tend to go off kilter in these situations. Either you start to take on the energy and actions of those around you, or you create a wall and stuff anything remotely unsettling down into yourself.

I'll be honest, many of the ancient yoga texts are really weak when it comes to addressing living the teachings within complex, communal situations - like in a bustling city for example. Many of the old yogis were elites who separated themselves from all of that, so it's not a huge surprise.

And neither is it a surprise that I have come up with more questions to sit with. It's a skill I seem to have.

Perhaps contentment comes through being at ease with questions...

Sexual Desire and the Platform Sutra

The root cause of purity
is the lust nature,
For once rid of lust,
the substance of the nature is pure.
Each of you, within your natures;
abandon the five desires.
In an instant, see your nature–
it is true.

from Hui Neng's Platform Sutra

Over at my other blog, I have been writing a lot about romantic relationships. It's kind of an endless topic if you think about, all the things that can and do happen between people who come together and make some form of partnership, however long or short, strong or weak it may be.

This morning's dharma talk at Zen Center referenced some lines from the Platform Sutra that sparked my interest. They were not those I have quoted above; in fact, when I heard them at 10 o'clock this morning, romantic relationships were not on my mind. However, as I took a look at the Platform Sutra this afternoon, I came across the quotation above, which comes almost at the end. (I flipped to the end for some reason.) And when I saw what you read above, something clicked in.

What, you may ask?

The fact that my mind still too often views "getting rid of" as meaning just that when it comes to sexual desire.

That my actions around sexual desire are still too often subtle shifts of avoidance or indulgence - and not coming from a liberation from those two.

Notice in Hui Neng's words the centrality of lust, of sexual desire - how it's considered the "root cause of purity." This is a long way from the land of prohibitions and shame that tend to follow from religious moral codes, even amongst some Buddhists.

Hatred and disgust of the body, and all that seems to come from it, are easy to locate in spiritual teachings. And of course, there is plenty of the opposite in the "everyday world" - obsession and indulgence of the body, and all that seems to come from it.

So, I see Hui Neng's words zeroing in on that dichotomy, and seeing it as a platform for complete liberation. For how could anyone truly be "rid of" sexual desire that has already arisen? Where could I possibly toss this albatross of energy that has already engulfed this body?

The five desires referenced in the last part of the quote above are basically these: comfort, sex, food, sleep, and good reputation. There are other slightly different translations of them, but this one seems to be the most flexible, but also easy to work with one.

When I think about romantic relationships, and consider those I have had in the past, all five of these desires played a role. More specifically, I can see how attachments to, or aversions towards, one or more of these played roles in causing a lot of suffering in those relationships. My attachments and aversions, and my partner's attachments and aversions.

For example, my early years as a vegetarian coincided with the first long term relationship I ever had. My girlfriend was neither vegetarian, nor terribly health conscious around food. And so, we often struggled around eating together. I judged her choices; she was irritated by mine, or felt guilty about mine. It was pretty damned unpleasant.

During the same relationship, I am well aware of times when I placed my own comfort over the well being of my girlfriend or the relationship itself. Once, having grown tired of staying in her parent's messy and noisy house, I basically made my girlfriend drive me home. We were nearly three hours away, and it was during the middle of winter. Not the proudest moment in my book.

In a more recent relationship, I frequently worried about my reputation as an ESL teacher because my girlfriend had been a student of mine. Never mind that she had long since left my classroom, I still wondered if my bosses and others at the school I worked at would judge me harshly for being with her.

These examples, and many others, are one of the reasons I see intimate partnerships as one of the most powerful practices a lay person can engage in. Both their presence and absence can be powerful catalysts, provided you approach intimate relationships as deep practices. In that way, they are like a monastery for us, exposing all the rough edges and hidden qualities - just as monks and nuns do in practicing and living together in monastic settings.

Even for those of us lay practitioners who are currently outside of those partnerships, there are still the memories of the past, the fantasies of the future, and the desires of the now to practice with.

The form of intimate partnership may or may not be present; the material coming up still seems to be fairly similar, doesn't it?

What are your thoughts?

Unravelling Structural Oppression in Buddhist Thailand

Maia Duerr from over at Jizo Chronicles and Liberated Life Project just returned from a month in Thailand. Having had many students from Thailand, as well as friends who have taught English over there, I'm always interested in what people's experiences are.

Maia writes:

During my time in Thailand, I’ve loved spending time with my friend Ouyporn Khuankaew. Ouyporn is one of the most courageous people I know, and a true example of what it means to live a liberated life.

This post opens up by pointing out that so much of what we think is the "truth" is really social conditioning from culture, family, and other sources that we have just accepted as the only realty. And as someone who has often questioned even the most basic things and ideas, one of the reasons why people struggle to break through social conditioning is that even questioning much of it brings great resistance from others.

Ouyporn’s life could have turned out like so many other women. But she took a different direction.

In 2002, she co-founded the International Partnership for Women’s Peace and Justice with Ginger Norwood. For the past nine years, she and Ginger have led retreats and workshops at IWP for activists and people from marginalized groups, including sex workers, trans-gendered, and people with HIV. (To learn more about IWP, see this story from Ms Magazine.)

Ouyporn is a self-identified radical feminist lesbian who teaches people how structural oppression works and how it can be unraveled. And in this intensely Buddhist country, she reminds women that the Buddha’s original teachings on karma were not meant to be used as an excuse for unjust conditions.

Interestingly, the IWP site is right next door to the house that Ouyporn grew up in. Her aging mother still lives there. So Ouyporn has managed the unique feat of staying close to her roots while at the same time living a life that is completely true to who she is.

I can only imagine how difficult this work has been for Ouyporn, and yet also probably very rewarding at the same time. Mistaken notions of karma as some sort of fixed destiny or punishment for past life misdeeds are pretty commonplace, even amongst people in North America. But again, I think a major reason for this is just an acceptance of ideas that have been spread around without examining them closely. Someone hurts another, then gets hurt themselves, and people think "Oh, it's their karma coming back around." I don't think it's as simple as that.

In addition, bring up the phrase "structural oppression" in any nation, and tie it to specific structures, and you can watch the sparks fly out of people's heads. "There's no structural racism! It's just some bad apples." How many times have you heard that one?

Anyway, I love sharing stories of people who are challenging the dominant narratives, and questioning the social conditioning that otherwise would run their lives. Ouyporn's work is inspiring.

May we all be liberated in this life.