Weaponized

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What This In-Vogue Verb Tells Us About Our Divided Culture

Did reading this bother you? Referring to “truthiness", a term coined by Stephen Colbert "But in this election, truthiness has become fully weaponized by social media …” (Oct. 26, 2016 NYTimes opinion page)

http://www.salon.com/2016/10/29/one-nation-weaponized-what-this-in-vogue-verb-tells-us-about-our-divided-culture/

Like a bunny in the headlights of an oncoming truck (Watership Down) I admit to being fully “tharn” in the wake of the outcome of the Nov. 8 presidential election. Some of this is shock and fear,  but most of it is a lack of clarity about how to respond to the terrible fate our new president-elect promised to unleash upon the powerless, “the historically disenfranchised”, the sick, the young, the old.  An important part of the conundrum for me is my struggle with non-violent language, avoiding language that is weaponized.  As a Buddhist I try to adhere to its ethical principles, The Five Precepts.  

Rather than describing my engagement with the Precepts as frequently failing, let’s just say I have the privilege of frequently starting over.  Two of them, numbers one and four, are especially relevant to the issue of the election, right action in relationship to it, nonviolence and me.  The first precept is, “I undertake the training vow to avoid taking the life of beings” and the fourth precept is, “I undertake the training vow to refrain from false speech.”  These two feel deeply connected to me, even In times when I am distracted from my practice.  As I have investigated and sat with the first precept it has become very focused on the environment and the evolving realization of how my actions contribute to harm and killing of beings.  And the fourth encompasses more than not lying or deceiving.  It includes the five standards for right speech one of the factors of the Buddhist Eightfold Path.  What is spoken...

• Is truthful
• Is not divisive
• With goodwill
• Is beneficial
• Is timely

While this may all sound very monkish, there is a part of a sutra attributed to the Buddha that begins, “And how is one made pure in four ways by verbal action?” And goes on to describe participation in

EPA Town Hall Meeting, Mossville Louisiana

a community meeting (AN 10.176).

Under the best of circumstances I struggle with the fourth precept and right speech.  This election season I have, perhaps we all have, been exposed to and wallowed in the opposite of right speech, that which is false, divisive, abusive and idle.  I am struck by how words destroy, and how words lead to destructive action.  This focus on right speech does not preclude resistance to that which is destructive and harmful to all living beings.  Right now I just don’t know what my role is in countering these harms without doing more harm myself.

I know I probably need to just let it go, open my eyes and see the speeding truck is not just bearing down on me but all of us, regardless of who we voted for, and engage.  The good thing about the precepts (or any truly generous spiritual practice) is a girl can always start over. 

On Clinging

For a bit of balance in these frantic days of environmental justice organizing here are some considerations on attachment, clinging and the tenacity of comfrey:

On Clinging

It’s that time of year.  The comfrey has emerged and threatens to take over the whole garden in its usual way.  I have begun my second year attempting to eradicate it.  Yes, this plant that I love, an ancient healing herb, eradicate it.  Our first spring in this house, almost twelve years ago, I was thrilled to find a small bed of symphytum officinale, seemingly contained by our neighbor’s dilapidated asphalt roof tile spewing garage to it’s rear, the driveway in front, a neighbor’s fence to the east and some of that black plastic garden border stuff to the west.

Comfrey leaves can be made into a poultice and applied to skin around a broken bone.  It is a highly effective homeopathic remedy as well.  It is a heavy feeder and the leaves can enhance the mix in the compost pile.  I fell in love with its blue flowers, a bundle of little bells at the end of each stem.  The almost royal blue campanulata seems to have its own internal glow – the bells take on a pink tinge near the end of their life.  Visiting bees love our little comfrey patch.  It is where all of our cats are buried.  I would bring those musky green leaves and luminous blossoms to workshops I was staffing not only for their beauty; I believed (and still do) that they bring a humble healing force to a room.

But it’s got to go.  I knew that last year when it had invaded the potato beds, poked through the composter and showed up in the moon bed.  Strawberries planted in its midst had died as had two cherry trees.  The root system of any one plant could go on for yards.  The problem with being attached to a plant, or anything, even something so fragile and evanescent, so seemingly temporary, means that letting go of it can be tricky.  I spent several days last summer trying to dig up the comfrey before it blossomed.  I wasn’t sure I would have the heart to continue, the resolve.  And I didn’t.  The little bells waved at me, the bees and other pollinators gathered and I gave up.

So this year I am starting earlier, determination renewed.  I recognize this attachment to something so thoroughly useful yet entirely invasive is not uncommon in a life.  Recognizing the grossly unskillful, actions and things that are fundamentally fruitless is easier I suppose, the angst or guilt over entertaining such states more vivid.  But more often it is some harmless thing we own or love to do that pokes at us, jams our frequencies, distracts our attempts at mindfulness, like that comfrey in the potato bed.

This year my plan is to dig at the comfrey until no green leaves are readily apparent.  I know next year a few plants will emerge.  Those roots are tenacious.  It can take years to completely remove them.  So be it.  An hour a day.  If I keep at it I’ll be finished before … And I’ll find some other treat for the bees.

Walking Meditation

One of the primary practices of Theravadin Buddhism is walking meditation.  It is a way of developing mindfulness in one of our most common daily activities, moving through the world.  In a presidential campaign every activity, even a simple one like walking, is filled with distractions -- what's the address, who will I be speaking to, is this person committed to Obama, leaning our way or another way, what campaign material should I leave -- so that most other sensations go unnoticed.  How does my foot feel against this exquisitely rickety porch stair? Is the wind blowing around my knees warm or cool?  What sensations are pleasant? Unpleasant? Neutral?

And what about the other impressions, of people's suffering?  And the judgments that arise in me -- about the way people live, the conditions of neighborhoods, houses, yards -- as I go about my job for this week, knocking on doors, handing out campaign material, hoping this is the most compassionate thing I can do right now.  

There is another practice, called Metta, which the Buddha taught his monks as a way of overcoming fear of all manner of creatures as they did sitting and walking meditation in a forest dominated by tree spirits.  So for all those I have met these last six days --  

May all beings be happy. May all beings be safe and protected from harm, may all being be healthy and strong, may all being live with ease of well-being.