Veteran's Day: Another Abstract American Holiday

This "holiday" today originally was called Armistice Day, marking the end of the hell that was World War I. After at least 20 million deaths, and entire nations left in rubble, it was supposed to be a reminder of the call "Never again!" from survivors. Including many leaders of the day. It wasn't about abstractions like "heroism," "freedom," "patriotism," or even "service." It was about remembering the millions of humans murdered in a conflict that WWI veteran Harry Patch described in these terms "if you boil it down, what was it? Nothing but a family row. That’s what caused it." Even though the nature of Armistice Day shifted quickly towards honoring military veterans, I choose to honor the original spirit. The end of war. The weariness of ever going there again. The desire for peace to remain, however fragile it may be. I think it says a lot about a country, what it's people choose to honor and celebrate. We're entirely too fond of celebrating war and those who participate in it, colonialist notions of "freedom," genocidal "heroes" like Columbus, and events tied to the colonizer form of Christianity. And the major holidays like Valentine's Day and Halloween, which aren't intimately tied to those narratives, are driven by consumerism. Regardless of what good folks make out of all this, it says a lot about how the U.S. is in the world, and where our collective energies are still going to in large degree. And so, in honoring the original spirit of Armistice Day, I call out to that place in each of us that is peace incarnate. That recognizes kinship with all beings, across arbitrary lines and divisions of any kind. What a day like this truly should honor, so that we might all come back to ourselves, put an end the petty battles and greed driven land grabs before they put an end to us.

Zen Master Dogen and the Crisis in Syria

It’s been a very interesting few days of developments in the crisis in Syria. The Syrian government agreed to a Russian proposal to hand over its chemical weapons and sign the Organization for the Prevention of Chemical Weapons treaty, which currently has 189 signatures on it. President Obama and his administration continue to press the case for military intervention, even as the diplomatic front has opened up. And recent polls suggesting a clear majority of Americans still oppose military action have been followed up by anti-war demonstrations all over the U.S., including here in the Twin Cities.

Reporting on the civil war in Syria tends to divide the conflict into two groups: the government-led military against an armed opposition composed of a mixture of grassroots Syrian groups and foreign “insurgents” from various terrorist organizations in the region. This fairly tidy, simplistic picture has actually been one of the reasons why so many Americans oppose military intervention. While plenty of folks truly reject warfare and military policing as a way to deal with international conflicts, others are driven more by a desire to avoid supporting either side, feeling that the choice between supporting the Assad government or a group of “terrorists” or “Islamic extremists” isn’t a choice they want to make.

Lost in all of this is the fact that the resistance movement started as a non-violent one, became violent in part because of U.S. arming of the rebel groups, and that non-violent efforts continue in Syria alongside the armed conflicts. When I wrote last week that Americans have a “crisis of the imagination,” this is a part of that. Odds are, if you polled the populace here, very few would even consider that non-violent resistance exists in Syria, or that it was the driving force early on in the conflict. This is the case, even though they were probably exposed to some news reports of the movement back in 2011. There are a variety of reasons for this, including Anti-Islamic sentiment and stereotyping, mainstream media coverage fixated on violence, and a general lack of awareness of the history and prevalence of non-violent resistance worldwide.

What would have happened if the U.S. and other nations had found ways to support the non-violent resistance movement back in 2011 that didn’t involve weapons? What if the international powerhouses put all of energy into an all out public campaign supporting non-violent resistance, encouraging their populations to help finance, document, and send prayer and meditation energy to the Syrians on the ground?

You can read the rest of the post here.

Be Generous to the Human Condition

A few years ago, I had a meeting with our head teacher at the Zen center. Zen people tend to call these meetings dokusan, although the way it unfolds can be anything from a one minute blundered koan presentation to a long conversation about life - it really depends on the teacher's style, as well as the circumstances behind having the meeting in the first place. Anyway, during this meeting, the content of the conversation seemed to lead us both to the phrase I titled this post with: "Be generous to the human condition." It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? But what does it mean exactly?

I’ve been reflecting a lot on war again, given the crisis in Syria and the Obama Administration’s pressuring for military action there. My current post over at Turning Wheel media digs deeply into all of that. Warfare is, ultimately, a surface approach to a below the surface set of problems. Societies built on greed and power mongering. Pervasive poverty. Human fear and ignorance. You can cut off the top of a dandelion again and again, but it's only through uprooting it completely (and eating it's health-giving body :), that you'll be rid of it.

As such, we can use the phrase "Be generous to the human condition" as a reminder of our individual and collective struggles to go deeper. Our tendencies to seek quick and easy solutions, even when we might know that they're ultimately doomed. It is about recognizing all the foolish and destructive behavior that comes from our individual and collective delusions. To be able to just breath it in, and touch what it's like to be human in this world at this time.

Not because you're better than anyone else - you're not - but because doing so is one of the ways to soften the edges, develop compassion, and see that we're all in this together.

This practice, and life in general, is hard work. Not always, but often. And so even as we offer fierce critiques, or sit silently with the world's turmoil without any coherent response, it's helpful to remember to be generous to the human condition. Moment after moment.

On the 10th Anniversary of the Iraq War

In honor of the 10th anniversary of the Iraq war, I offer this post from nearly 4 years ago. This was back when a small piece of me was still "giving Obama and the Dems" a chance to prove that they indeed wanted something different than the military industrial complex we are built on here in the U.S. That small piece of me is long dead, and truly it was only an olive branch to my liberal friends and family who wanted to believe. While most of the troops have been removed from Iraq, the fighting goes on in Afghanistan. U.S. sponsored Drone warfare is ever increasing in other nations. Our "justice" system is more likely to imprison and torture whistle blowers like Bradley Manning than the leaders that drive our foreign policy, and justify murder and environmental destruction with whatever flimsy bullshit they can come up with. Those of us who actively oppose war are more likely to be considered threats to the nation than those profiting off of death or those authorizing the draining of social safety nets to feed the war machine.

Democrats. Republicans. Little or no difference when it comes to war. Nor big oil and energy policy, it seems.

We live in an age of false polarization, fueled by ignorance, fear and hatred. The greed that drives our nation's government and economy is so obvious now, and yet still missed by so many. What will it take for folks to wake up?

The post below is riddled with questions. I don't really know what it will take to truly bring a lasting peace to the world. Or at least a lot less war than we have now. Sometimes, I think that this is just the way our world is. A plane of existence fraught with difficulties and suffering - offering each of us a chance to experience that and move on. Whatever is the case, I have no interest in giving up dream of a more just and peaceful world for us all. Whether such a world is possible or not is mere speculation. That's the same way I view the Bodhisattva precepts as well.

Supporting War as a Buddhist?

In recent days, President Obama and his defense department team have made proposals to increase troop levels in Afghanistan and to add another $83 billion dollars in "special" funding to an already huge defense budget. This, at a time when the U.S. economy is in shambles, job losses at a thirty year high, and nearly 50 million Americans (including myself) are without health insurance. The shift in focus from Iraq to Afghanistan (again), as well as the increase in war spending, is justified as necessary in the "fight against al-Qaeda." Is it just me, or does none of this seem to add up?

I'm well aware that many Buddhists, along with millions of other excited Americans, cheered and went wild when Barack Obama won the 2008 Presidential election. And it was, indeed, a historic moment, and hopefully, in terms of race relations, another turning point in the long struggle for equality, dignity, and respect that people of color and their allies have worked so long to achieve. In addition to that, all the talk and desires of that election squarely sat on the shoulders of change. And I think in many minds, not tiny changes, but real, substantive change.

I feel it's important for me to disclose that I voted for the Green Party ticket because I continue to greatly question the politics and decisions of both the Democrats and Republicans. And yet, even I was relieved that Obama won, hoping that his win would eventually signal a shift away from the war madness, oppressive domestic policies, and sometimes wildly delusional tactics of the Bush Administration.

Given this, the calls for large sums of money and troops to go into a country (Afghanistan) which has suffered thirty years of nearly continuous warfare strikes me as not only sad, but downright inhumane. Never mind that some of the funds are going for humanitarian aid, how is devastating an already crippled nation and then handing out some food and clothing a compassionate answer to what's going on there? It frankly inexcusable to continue to use the September 11th attacks, and the hunt for a scattered band of terrorists (who may or may not be members of al-Qaeda), as an excuse to invade other nations, murder civilians, and destroy infrastructure and ecosystems.

External wars represent the worst manifestation of the internal wars we have within each of us. The deep belief in separation, which plagues most of us (even those of us who are steeped in Buddha's teachings of interconnectedness), is the driving force behind the hatred and fear that spirals into killing and war in the world.

What then should be done in Afghanistan and Iraq exactly? And how do we address terrorism? I don't think there are any easy answers to these questions, and yet, continuing to fight massive scale wars in the name of creating peace is like repeatedly sticking your hand in a fire and believing that one of these times, it won't be burned.

The escalation of the war in Afghanistan, as well as air strikes in Pakistan, is a call to Buddhists and all Americans who voted for President Obama to reflect on what they really wanted when they made that decision. Even if you were aware that Obama's plans all along included some kind of increased presence in Afghanistan and Pakistan, how do these decisions feel to you now knowing that our nation is in a deep recession? And how do these decisions mesh with your desire for a major change from the Bush Administration? How is fighting wars in the name of destroying terrorists any different from fighting wars against communism and communists? And of what value are teachings like the first precept of vowing not to kill, or the Bodhisattva vow to free all beings if one also supports massive war operations in other nations? In other words, can you really liberate anyone through large scale destruction?

I personally would love to be in an age where the United States is known as a nation of peace, and model of non-violent conflict resolution. But knowing this will take a very long time, if it ever happens at all, it seems reasonable to at least stand tall against state sanctioned warfare and do my best to learn about and promote other ways of thinking and acting. And even for those out there that support some military interventions, doesn't it seem insane to be increasing military spending at a time like this with all of our economic problems? Or isn't questionable to be escalating a war in a nation that fought off the old Soviet army, and fought off the British years before that?

May we all discover a way to true peace in this world.

Reflections on 9/11

Nine years ago today, I was at a school district training for what turned out to be line year as a elementary school teaching assistant. Just as the training was about to begin, there was some commotion in the large district headquarters building hallway, and I went out of the conference room to see what was going on. Someone had plucked a TV at the end of the hallway and two or three dozen people had gathered around it. I saw the Twin Towers on the screen, the smoke coming from one of them.

People were asking what was going on. A fire? A plane crash? There was an unease in the room that was about to shift into horror.

The second plane crashed into the Towers right before our eyes. I hear gasps. Someone shouted "This is America! How can this happen?"

I have to say that as the Twin Towers collapsed on the TV before us, and my fellow co-workers broke out in cries, shouts, and wails, I just stood there - not quite numb, but also not feeling at all part of this group. The first words in my mind as all this happened were "It finally happened."

I didn't loose anyone close to me that day. I have never even been to New York, so I clearly lacked the kind of connection that can lead to heightened emotion. However, I can't help but think that all the misery that has been spawned in the name of this single event very much reflects our collective failure, as a nation, to see how we are, and have always been, just as vulnerable as any other nation.

I'm not patriotic. In fact, I have long viewed the nation-state as a rotten invention that has caused more trouble than good. As the flag bearing and waving increased in the weeks and months after 9/11, I found myself feeling more and more isolated, and wondering how to respond to the actual tragedy that occurred without papering over the vulnerability that is a mark of all of our lives.

In a way, 9/11 probably helped speed up my entrance onto the Zen path. I found myself increasing frustrated, increasingly angry, and increasingly confused as the war in Afghanistan began, and I watched as people who had claimed to be peacemakers called for blood, saying "This one is different. We have to fight it!" Then, I found myself marching in protests, surrounded by people who hated the war, hated President Bush, hated, hated, hated. And slowly, I began to realize that true peace could not come from protests alone. I saw painfully that the hatred of the peacemakers and the hatred of the war-makers was the same hatred.

The events that happened on 9/11/01 were not a surprise to me. They were horrible, for sure - but no less horrible than many other terrorist attacks that have occurred around the world. And the dramas that have been unfolding over the Cordoba House project and the proposed Qu'ran burning in Florida show just how far we as a nation are from truly understanding our place as one amongst the many. As long as too many of us fail to realize that no amount of moral grandstanding, military prowess, or technological advancement can keep us safe, we will continue to be fixated on 9/11 in ways that distort nearly every collective social and economic decision being made.
That doesn't make us unique; every nation seems to have it's historical issues that suck collective energy. But the scale of the destruction, coupled with the reactions that followed, make 9/11 both a potential nation destroyer, and also a catalyst for a major societal shift, if only enough of us could wake up to that truth.