Monday, March 23, 2020

Without Words - The Dao De Jing on Non-Doing

"The softest thing in the universe
Overcomes the hardest thing in the universe.
That without substance can enter where there is no room.
Hence I know the value of non-action.
Teaching without words and work without doing
Are understood by very few."

Dao De Jing, Verse 43


Action and Non-Action


Amidst varied responses to the coronavirus outbreak, a whirlwind of stress has been stirred. With public health in jeopardy, many governments have chosen to mandate versions of "shelter in place" in a concerted effort to stop the spread of disease. As increasingly many people are confined to individual quarters, a sort of unintentional hermit-like existence may be on the rise, with the majority experiencing acute distress, boredom, cabin fever, and other sorts of unease. Craving activity and stimulation, we feel restless, stir crazy, particularly on edge.

Perhaps offering a reprieve from the storm of pandemic sweeping over communities near and far is the Dao De Jing, a Chinese classic attributed to the hermit-sage Lao Tzu (i.e., Laozi) dating to roughly the sixth century before the common era.

While the majority actively resists the hermit-life, viewing it with suspicion as a form of escapism or passive disengagement, only entering its realm reluctantly under lock-down and not even fully, given other means of escape such as various forms of media, at least a door has been cracked open. Under these conditions, we have the chance to turn inward and evaluate our habits of consumption, if we are willing. We therefore use this opportunity to briefly explore a Daoist hermit's reflections on action and non-action in relation to our present circumstances.

Doing


With so much chaos erupting around us amidst the COVID-19 crisis, we may naturally feel the urge to act, to do something to help. Many might feel guilty for doing nothing. Given a societally-ingrained push toward ceaseless action, we've been conditioned to constantly be on the go in one way or another. Daoist contemplative traditions, however, offer an alternative.



Throughout the Dao De Jing and other classics, a radically different perspective is depicted. As Lao Tzu reflects, "teaching without words and work without doing are understood by very few," illustrating a contemplative pivot. Those teachings conveyed without resorting to the limits of language, that work that flows without effortful action, are too often completely overlooked and neglected.

Non-doing


Non-doing flies in the face of everything taught to us by mainstream, industrialized societies and their obsession with productivity. How can anything be accomplished without actively doing something? Wu wei, a Chinese term of Confucian origin but of particular significance in Daoism, conveys multiple contemplative meanings, mostly centered around "non-doing," "inaction," "inexertion," or "effortless action." Here we find a mode of being that challenges the norms of productivity.



Much more than meets the eye transpires in the absence of obvious activity. Through non-doing, wu wei, we reduce the strain on the system. Whether by refraining from polluting the already declining environment or by refraining from putting our bodies in public spaces where we are likely to become vectors of disease transmission during this pandemic, non-doing goes a long way. "The softest thing in the universe," observes Lao Tzu, "Overcomes the hardest."

Undoing


"I know the value of non-action," reflects Lao Tzu. Such non-action, or effortless action of a kind other than those that attract the spotlight in our overwhelmingly consumerist society, enables us to un-do the damage already done. While certain scars cannot be erased, we can at least mitigate the effects of the climate crisis and COVID-19 crisis through reduction of our consumerist behaviors. Undoing the patterns of consumerist craving that characterize our conscious experience is the basis for regenerative undertakings.



While we pause here for the time being, this conversation is most certainly ongoing, evolving in real-time across the ever-changing terrain of the immediate present and onward. As a parting reflection, we note that just as meaningful forms of assistance need not be limited to activity, the notion of "social distancing" also reflects a major oversight. We may physically distance ourselves from each other for the sake of disease control, practicing "non-doing" as a means of reducing transmission, but that by no means necessitates social or emotional distance or escapism of any kind. We remain connected despite distance, engaged despite stillness, according to the Dao De Jing.

To be continued.

Source:

Feng, Gia-Fu and Jane English. Tao Te Ching (Daodejing). New York: Random House, Inc., 1973.

Monday, March 16, 2020

New Seeds of Contemplation - Thomas Merton on Communion, Solitude, and Contemplative Practice



New Seeds of Contemplation


“The more we are alone with God the more we are with one another, in darkness, yet a multitude.”
— Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

In these times of isolation, while so many appear gripped by the panic of pandemic, the world may seem to grow dim. As an increasing number of people fall ill, more of us choose to quarantine, hoping to help slow the creeping spread of viral outbreak.

These times of isolation, while stressful or boredom-inducing, are also an opportunity to deepen our contemplative undertakings. We are not necessarily asked to shut others out, but perhaps to welcome them in ways that transcend physical presence. As Thomas Merton reflects in New Seeds of Contemplation, “I must look for my identity, somehow, not only in God but in other men. I will never be able to find myself if I isolate myself from the rest of mankind as if I were a different kind of being.” Perhaps in some sense, physical distance may open new routes of connection with each other.

Contemplative paths intersect in ways unknown to the mere meeting of bodies in space and time. Despite physical isolation for the sake of disease control, these contemplative paths remain open and connected, perhaps even leading onto previously unknown terrain.

Here, we briefly explore some of these byways through Thomas Merton's New Seeds of Contemplation.



The False Self


While ostensibly a Trappist monk and Catholic mystic, Thomas Merton's contemplative career was surprisingly varied, dipping into the realms of Hinduism, Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism, Sikhism, Jainism, and Sufism. Merton's primary source of intrigue seems to have been not what differentiated these contemplative approaches in a technical sense, but what each offered to the human experience in its depths and totality. It was this fascination with the human experience, largely its mystic varieties, that shaped Thomas Merton's contemplative path.

“The only true joy on earth is to escape from the prison of our own false self, and enter by love into union with the Life Who dwells and sings within the essence of every creature and in the core of our own souls.”

Indeed, for Merton, the art of transcending the boundaries of our otherwise myopic reality, limited by a sense of separated individuality fabricated from conditioning, functions as the key to unlocking previously unknown dimensions of intersection on the contemplative path. To free oneself from the prison of one's false self, one must dismantle the walls of metaphysical fixity, demolishing the assumption that reality must be a certain way on the basis of the dogma of a particular creed alone, that it can never be otherwise. For Merton, engaging in the mystical practices of other contemplative paths did just this, giving rise to an enduring experience of spiritual union.

Communion, Solitude, and Contemplative Practice


Merton's reflections on communion, solitude, and contemplative practice are particularly relevant to our present circumstances. Given the exponential outbreak of the coronavirus, "social distancing" appears to be the most viable means for flattening the curve. Even so, it poses a unique set of challenges of its own, ranging from loss of income, childcare and food insecurity due to school closures, and so forth. Quarantine itself, for the majority, ushers in an acute sense of boredom, loneliness, and a heightened craving to be in the company of others.



While we are indeed largely social creatures, thriving on interactions and human connection, a great many of us have long neglected the practice of looking within ourselves. Others may associate such introspection with trauma, and so we become averse to engaging with contemplative practice. In light of the conditions we presently face, however, such practices may be among our more viable routes to remaining connected and probing the foundations of the crisis.

On related concerns pertaining to solitude versus communion with others, Merton writes:

“Very few men are sanctified in isolation. Very few become perfect in absolute solitude. Living with other people and learning to lose ourselves in the understanding of their weakness and deficiencies can help us to become true contemplatives. For there is no better means of getting rid of the rigidity and harshness and coarseness of our ingrained egoism, which is the one insuperable obstacle to the infused light and action of the Spirit of God.”

Perhaps we may extrapolate from these reflections to our present situation.

While Merton appears to be referring to the spiritual insights that can arise in the company of others, even those we may consider challenging people, we can extend these reflections into the domain of physical quarantine and its implications for contemplative practice. Even in times of physical isolation, we remain spiritually connected.

Looking out upon the world at this moment seems to reveal a series of mistakes and mis-steps that have contributed to worsening public health conditions. Yet if we consider Merton's contemplations here, the flaws of others help unveil our own flaws, and as excruciating as it may be to stare both in the face, they are they ultimate test of our patience and endurance.



Merton characterizes the individual ego as rigid, harsh, and coarse. These jarring descriptions reveal that the culprit behind our disintegrating situation, a culprit which perceives itself to be invincible, neglects to comprehend its potential role as a vector of transmission, and fails to acknowledge the intricately woven web in which we're all embedded, lurks within.

When we face these unpleasant realities, whether they pertain to the world around us or to deeply habituated patterns of egoism within ourselves, we may experience a humbling reorientation of perspective. No longer blissfully ignorant, we find ourselves grounded in reality yet simultaneously groundless given the rapidly fluctuating situation both within and around us.

Socially Integrated Introspection


Thomas Merton—who himself walked the line between social activism and hermit living, dipping into each, often simultaneously—consistently urges a socially integrated introspection, a solitude that integrates with communion. While so much more could be said of Merton's work, especially given how ripe with wisdom his reflections are in New Seeds of Contemplation and other writings, we pause here for the time being. Again prompting us toward introspection in times that superficially suggest separation, Merton reflects:

“Our idea of God tells us more about ourselves than about Him.”



Source:

Merton, Thomas. New Seeds of Contemplation. Trappist: Abbey of Gethsemani, 1961.

Monday, March 9, 2020

Mountains Closing In - Contemplative Remedies for Existential Threats



Existential Threats


Given the severity of public health concerns, ongoing environmental crisis, the possibility of economic collapse, and various other seemingly insurmountable challenges weighing upon society in the present age, it may currently seem as though we have mountains closing in on us from every angle.

Such mountains represent the existential threats looming overhead. Their rocky, towering, formidable presence casts shadows over society, blanketing civilization in darkness and despair. Not only are these mountains standing threateningly over us, they are moving in rapidly. Life as we know it will come to an end, whether sooner or later. The quickness with which the mountains close in only seems to be accelerating in light of worsening conditions across the globe.

This sort of image features prominently in a discourse attributed to the Buddha known as the Pabbatūpama Sutta, the Simile of the Mountains, case 3.25 of the Saṃyutta Nikāya in the Pāli Canon. Although some 2,500+ years old, it speaks equally to us now as it did to contemplatives then. We thus take up this discourse as a classic encounter with the urgent need for liberating practice in the face of existential mountains closing in from all directions.

Mountains Closing In




Contextually, the Simile of the Mountains is a teaching imparted by the Buddha to a prominent ruler, King Pasenadi of Kosala. An important lay figure who acted as a patron of Buddhist monasteries during the early period, King Pasenadi was nonetheless ruler of a mighty kingdom known for its bustling activity. Kept constantly on his toes, the king frequently sought guidance from the Buddha for how to rule in the secular sphere as well as how to live a spiritual life.

Setting the stage for their conversation, we are informed that the king visits the Buddha after having busied himself with the duties of kings "who are infatuated with authority, and obsessed with greed for sensual pleasures."

In the course of their conversation, upon hearing King Pasenadi speak of his duties and activities as ruler, the Buddha proposes a hypothetical situation to the king. In this situation, the king receives news from a messenger claiming, "I saw a huge mountain that reached the clouds. And it was coming this way, crushing all creatures." He hears this not from one messenger, not from two, but from multiple sources reporting on a rogue mountain closing in from every direction, an set of avalanches advancing upon the kingdom from all sides.

With this image in mind, the king is asked how he would respond to such an emergency.

“Should such a dire threat arise—a terrible loss of human life, when human birth is so rare—what would you do?”

“Sir, what could I do but practice the teachings, practice morality, doing skillful and good actions?”

“I tell you, great king, I announce to you: old age and death are advancing upon you. Since old age and death are advancing upon you, what would you do?”

“Sir, what can I do but practice the teachings, practice morality, doing skillful and good actions?”

Faced with such questions, the king responds without hesitation that the best he could do under such conditions would be to practice diligently. His response is not to funnel resources to fortify the city, nor to evacuate the masses, nor to response through sheer force of military troops, as these would do no good in the face of such existential onslaught. With mountains closing in, with old age and death closing in, the only way to leap over them is by putting what one has learned into practice, existentially.

This kind of response flies in the face of emergency responses we may typically perceive as most practical and effective.

Certainly, if something can be done to prevent the mountains from closing in, then by all means, preventative measures should be taken. In the face of the climate crisis, the elimination of non-biodegradable waste, the promotion of restorative and regenerative efforts, and other such responses are worthy undertakings that must be pursued, lest the situation worsen irrevocably. In the face of violence and war, we should directly address the root of conflict rather than merely applying bandages over a festering wound.

With the mountains of old age and death closing in, an existential onslaught that cannot be prevented, contemplative practice may be an immediately relevant and viable remedy.



Contemplative Remedies


Recognizing that there are mountains closing in upon us, confronting the visceral reality of existential threat, instills in us an urgency to practice. We need not wait until the last moment to "practice the teachings, practice morality, doing skillful and good actions," as the king describes.

The sooner we undertake such practices (whether meditation or abstention from activities that harm ourselves and others, broadly understood) the better chances we face. A significant and central aspect of contemplative practice entails cultivating this awareness of the severity of our condition, not as a mere after-thought, but so it remains in the foreground, informing our every move. That said, there is a certain balance that must be struck so that the salience of this existential awareness leads not to paralysis, but moves us, motivates us to practice.

Indeed, near the conclusion of the discourse, a set of verses drive the message home for us:

Suppose there were vast mountains
of solid rock touching the sky
drawing in from all sides
and crushing the four quarters.

So too old age and death
advance upon all living creatures—
aristocrats, brahmins, merchants,
workers, outcastes, and scavengers.
They spare nothing.
They crush all beneath them.

Given the unrelenting, undiscriminating nature of old age and death, all are equally susceptible to their avalanche-like advance, kings and commoners alike. Rather than cling to superficial demarcations that set us apart, perhaps our efforts would be better spent if we banded together in addressing the existential threats that face us all.

Contemplative remedies work well at the individual level in reducing the stress associated with existential threat, often by contemplating the impermanence of conditions and meeting such unstable conditions with a stable mind, but what can be done at the collective contemplative scale?

Moreover, what can be done to prevent mountains from closing in upon us in the first place? While the mountains of aging and death will inevitably affect us all, contemplative practice will significantly transform how we respond to them, tending to their onslaught with wisdom and equanimity rather than ignorance and panic.

Climate change and spread of disease, on the other hand, can be mitigated. Bioregional regeneration and whole-systems permaculture are deeply promising solutions deserving of further exploration. As are contemplative methods such as mindfulness, not only in our everyday activities to prevent the spread of disease and in making informed choices in the realm of sustainability, but also in a much broader recognition of the occasionally invisible threads of ecological and epidemiological interconnectedness, an awareness that will enable us to co-evolve with ecology and remedy the challenges of epidemiology. Such awareness is the foundation for sustainable behavioral change that may spare lives.

Opportunities for practice abound in every waking moment today. Let not a moment go to waste. To be continued.



Source: Bhikkhu Sujato. Pabbatūpama Sutta: The Simile of the Mountain (SN 3.25), SuttaCentral, 2018. Dedicated to the public domain via Creative Commons Zero (CC0).

Wednesday, March 4, 2020

An Inescapable Network of Mutuality - Martin Luther King Jr. on the Interwoven Fabric of Justice


"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly."

— Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Letter from the Birmingham Jail




An Inescapable Network of Mutuality


With contagious disease and an outrageous political season rippling over society, seemingly tearing apart its foundations by sewing the seeds of disharmony, it may appear a bit cliché to invoke these lines from Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on "an inescapable network of mutuality."

If, however, we can actually appreciate their immense relevance, their deeply pragmatic and realistic message, then we may stand a chance at collective, scalable, regenerative organizing at the micro- and macro- ecological, economic, and epidemiological levels.

Arrested for violating an injunction against unauthorized demonstrations during tensions over Birmingham, Alabama's segregation laws, King spent eight days in jail, during which he authored this letter to his fellow clergymen. Here we interweave a few strands of contemplative reflection around one of its most salient themes.

The Interwoven Fabric of Justice


Written while incarcerated at the Birmingham city jail, dated April 16, 1963, the letter details King's vision of justice. Contextually, it was penned in response to an initial open letter signed by eight local white clergymen, published by the Birmingham News, criticizing King's direct action campaign as untimely and unwise, instead urging black residents of Birmingham to obey the law and cease their support for the demonstrations. King supposedly scrawled much of his reply on scraps of paper available to him in prison.

In the letter, King emphasizes the sentiment, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." Refusing to submit to status quo, he defends his choice to protest.

Most tellingly, rather than distance himself from these conservative opponents or pit himself and his supporters against the opposition, King consistently highlights the interwoven fabric of justice, declaring, "I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham...Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial 'outside agitator' idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere within its bounds."

Radicals and Revolutionaries


Accused of extremism, King responds by reframing the question of extremism as a choice between acting as extremists for love and justice, or extremists for hate and injustice. Standing between those who would rather acquiesce and those who instead resort to violence and vitriole, King occupies a liminal space characterized by persistent non-violent protest. Invoking the likes of Jesus Christ and other so-called radicals and revolutionaries of their time, he calls upon others to unite in their differences, prioritizing justice for all.



Presently, we face a similar set of concerns over what have been deemed radical and revolutionary politics, striking fear and panic into those who associate such terms with violent authoritarianism and ruthless dictatorship. Radical and revolutionary terminology has been corrupted and tainted, but with wisdom and compassion, they may still be reclaimed and reframed in reference to a radically and revolutionarily inclusive movement, the first to fully acknowledge and embrace that we are each and all embedded in an inescapable network of mutuality, a single garment of destiny. Perhaps there is more freedom to be gained than lost if we transcend the deeply ingrained tendency to view ourselves as separate entities operating in the mindlessly self-serving ways that characterize individualism.

Threads of Synergy that Support and Sustain


Given the increasing complexity of our environments, we face a set of uniquely complex challenges, whether epidemiologically, climatologically, or otherwise. Unfortunately, when it comes to interrelatedness, we too often focus on the networks that spread disease and panic instead of those threads of synergy that support and sustain us.

Rather than let a pandemic of pandemonium ensue through the contagion of division, a disease gone viral as it spreads across networks, let us envision ways in which the inescapable network of mutuality may work to the advantage of all, the health and well-being of each part of the whole.

Repairing and regenerating the network, ensuring that its routes of transmission are open and clear and, importantly, that what is transmitted is medicinal and not pathological will be how we transcend outdated modes of being and transform the system from the inside out into a sustainable society for all.



Source:

King, Martin Luther. "Letter from a Birmingham Jail [King, Jr.]" 16 April 1963.