Embracing our pain
This morning I downloaded and listened to a rebroadcast of a June 4, 2009 On Being program in which Krista Tippett talked with Thich Nhat Hahn, the Vietnamese poet, Zen monk and peacemaker and Cheri Maples, who “served in the criminal justice system for 25 years, including as an Assistant Attorney General in the Wisconsin Department of Justice, and as a police officer with the City of Madison Police Department. She is a licensed attorney, a clinical social worker, and co-founder of the Center for Mindfulness and Justice in Madison, Wisconsin. She was ordained as a dharma teacher by Thich Nhat Hanh in 2008” and Larry Ward, “co-director of the Lotus Institute in Encinitas, California and an ordained Baptist minister.”
The timing of this rebroadcast seemed particularly prophetic given the killing of 80 or more people in Nice, France last evening by a person who apparently was thinking that he was doing the work of the God of his understanding. At a time when it is easy to speak in terms of innocent and terrorist; bad and good; right and wrong, Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us that responding to violence with more violence will just keep the cycle of violence going. Both Cheri Maples and Larry Ward give examples of how mindfulness love changed how they approached situations with others.
Thich Nhat Hanh in his poem Warmth says:
"I hold my face between my hands. No, I am not crying. I hold my face between my hands to keep my loneliness warm, two hands protecting, two hands nourishing, two hands to prevent my soul from leaving me in anger."
I can only imagine the anger, grief, and abject loneliness which the family members of those killed and seriously injured in Nice, Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, other places/countries, and on the streets of many of the cities in the United States and the rest of the world. Certainly we could not fault nor would one want to fault those family members for the myriad of emotions they are experiencing. Most of us may know violence and loss from personal experience. Whether it is the pain of the violence of the bully, the virtual or physical slap of a loved one, the news of a loved one killed in war, the death of a loved one – a child even – from an encounter with the police or a drug overdose, it is human to want to blame someone. It is also human to feel all alone no matter how many attempt to comfort us at such times.
Often we may as individuals or as a nation be tempted, as Thick Nhat Hanh says, to allow our soul to leave us in anger. Wait! Is he suggesting that when we strike out in righteous anger our soul leaves us? Surely we have a right to our righteous anger. We have been wronged by someone, some group or some force.
Cheri Maples tells a story about responding as a police office to a domestic violence call. She says:
“But probably the first example of that was when I was on a domestic violence call, and it was one of these calls where I would have just arrested the guy. I would have just, 'Hey, enough enough,' you know? This was a scenario where breaking up is hard to do, and there was a little girl, and they were exchanging custody. And he was kind of holding the little girl hostage, not wanting to give her back to Mom. And there had been no violence that had taken place, but both Mom and the little girl were very scared and intimidated. And ordinarily I would have said, 'That's it,' slapped the handcuffs on him, taken him to jail. But something stopped me, and it was I had just come out of this retreat. And I got the little girl, got him to give me the little girl, took care of her, got her and her mom set, told them just to leave, went back. And I just talked to this guy from my heart, and within five minutes, I mean, I've got this big gun belt on. I'm about 5'3", right? And this guy's like 6'6". And he's bawling, you know. And I'm holding this guy with this big gun belt on and everything. And he was just in incredible pain, and that's what I started realizing we deal with is misplaced anger, because people are in incredible pain.”
Thich Nhat Hanh in his poem Warmth says:
"I hold my face between my hands. No, I am not crying. I hold my face between my hands to keep my loneliness warm, two hands protecting, two hands nourishing, two hands to prevent my soul from leaving me in anger."
Many years ago when I was in a lot of emotional pain I knew I had to do something other than just retreat and focus on the pain. I wrote the draft of book on dealing with anger and domestic violence. I submitted it to one publisher, was rejected and then put it on the bookshelf. Yesterday I saw it while sorting through my books. I had kept it, but for whatever reason, did not rewrite it or submit it to other publishers. The writing of it served the purpose of staying in touch with my pain while not allowing it to take over my life or for it to morph into anger which might have struck out to create more pain. I did not have the eloquent words of Thich Nhat Hanh but I did instinctively know or trust that I needed the comfort of touching my pain and turning it into something positive.
Thich Nhat Hanh again reminds us:
“It's like growing lotus flowers. You cannot grow lotus flowers on marble. You have to grow them on the mud. Without mud, you cannot have a lotus flower. Without suffering, you have no ways in order to learn how to be understanding and compassionate. That's why my definition of the kingdom of God is not a place where suffering is not, where there is no suffering …”
Clichés often do not seem very helpful and yet the reason they are so often repeated is because they contain a measure of truth. To say to someone, the equivalent of “you have no ways in order to learn how to be understanding and compassionate” does not feel very helpful when one is in the middle of the pain. Yet, as I look back over my life I am acutely aware of the fact that each moment in my life is intricately dependent on all the previous moments. In some very miraculous way each of the moments in my life was necessary to bring me to the present moment. If I could and did change one moment, I would change all the moments which followed. I am not saying that I think that violence is good or that we need the violence in the way that the lotus flower needs the mud. If we did not have the lotus flowers, we might have some other expression of beauty. Yet, if the mud arrives we can have the possibility of the lotus flower.
I invite you to listen once again to Thich Nhat Hanh:
“Yes. And suffering and happiness, they are both organic, like a flower and garbage. If the flower is on her way to become a piece of garbage, the garbage can be on her way to becoming a flower.
That is why you are not afraid of garbage. I think we have suffered a lot during the 20th century. We have created a lot of garbage. There was a lot of violence and hatred and separation. And we have not handled — we don't know how to handle the garbage that we have created. And then we would have a sense to create a new century for peace. That is why now is very important for us to learn how to transform the garbage we have created into flowers.”
I remind the reader that he said this in the interview with Krista Tippett in 2009. It seems we still have not learned how to handle the garbage, but have, in many respects, continued to create more garbage. Yet, there are wonderful flowers in the midst of midst of garbage.
I recall being in Estonia when it was still under control of the Soviet Union. There was no material for painting rebuilding and often not even food. Yet, as I was walking around the city I would see sculptures build out of discarded munition parts. I also found that the one commodity which was frequently available for very little money was fresh cut flowers. In fact, I found this in many poor countries. Natural and created works of art were always available. Whether it was the beautifully carved and decorated fish hooks, canes and other necessities many Native Americans created or the quilts many women created to keep family members warm, the need for beauty in the midst of suffering was understood and respected as a necessity.
In his book, Tribe, Sebastian Junger discussed the richness of closeness and shared goals which often happen during a natural or person-made disaster. Often we are at our best when we are forced to focus on immediate survival needs and do not have the time or energy to rank order and mistreat each other – to survive by climbing on the back of each other.
In the midst of changes in Britain, the predictions of disaster with regard to the presidential elections in the United States and the ongoing violence such as what happened in Nice yesterday. we have the opportunity to hold our faces in our hands and to hold the face of each other in our tender, strong, compassionate hands. We have the opportunity of saying, “No, we will not give more of our soul to hatred and violence. Neither will we lay down and give up. We will rise from the rubble. We will do what perhaps is most disconcerting and frightening. We will love ourselves, each other and those whose lonely pain could otherwise lead them to a God who requires violent sacrifices. We will show the way to “transform the garbage we have created into flowers.”
Written July 15, 2016
This morning I downloaded and listened to a rebroadcast of a June 4, 2009 On Being program in which Krista Tippett talked with Thich Nhat Hahn, the Vietnamese poet, Zen monk and peacemaker and Cheri Maples, who “served in the criminal justice system for 25 years, including as an Assistant Attorney General in the Wisconsin Department of Justice, and as a police officer with the City of Madison Police Department. She is a licensed attorney, a clinical social worker, and co-founder of the Center for Mindfulness and Justice in Madison, Wisconsin. She was ordained as a dharma teacher by Thich Nhat Hanh in 2008” and Larry Ward, “co-director of the Lotus Institute in Encinitas, California and an ordained Baptist minister.”
The timing of this rebroadcast seemed particularly prophetic given the killing of 80 or more people in Nice, France last evening by a person who apparently was thinking that he was doing the work of the God of his understanding. At a time when it is easy to speak in terms of innocent and terrorist; bad and good; right and wrong, Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us that responding to violence with more violence will just keep the cycle of violence going. Both Cheri Maples and Larry Ward give examples of how mindfulness love changed how they approached situations with others.
Thich Nhat Hanh in his poem Warmth says:
"I hold my face between my hands. No, I am not crying. I hold my face between my hands to keep my loneliness warm, two hands protecting, two hands nourishing, two hands to prevent my soul from leaving me in anger."
I can only imagine the anger, grief, and abject loneliness which the family members of those killed and seriously injured in Nice, Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, other places/countries, and on the streets of many of the cities in the United States and the rest of the world. Certainly we could not fault nor would one want to fault those family members for the myriad of emotions they are experiencing. Most of us may know violence and loss from personal experience. Whether it is the pain of the violence of the bully, the virtual or physical slap of a loved one, the news of a loved one killed in war, the death of a loved one – a child even – from an encounter with the police or a drug overdose, it is human to want to blame someone. It is also human to feel all alone no matter how many attempt to comfort us at such times.
Often we may as individuals or as a nation be tempted, as Thick Nhat Hanh says, to allow our soul to leave us in anger. Wait! Is he suggesting that when we strike out in righteous anger our soul leaves us? Surely we have a right to our righteous anger. We have been wronged by someone, some group or some force.
Cheri Maples tells a story about responding as a police office to a domestic violence call. She says:
“But probably the first example of that was when I was on a domestic violence call, and it was one of these calls where I would have just arrested the guy. I would have just, 'Hey, enough enough,' you know? This was a scenario where breaking up is hard to do, and there was a little girl, and they were exchanging custody. And he was kind of holding the little girl hostage, not wanting to give her back to Mom. And there had been no violence that had taken place, but both Mom and the little girl were very scared and intimidated. And ordinarily I would have said, 'That's it,' slapped the handcuffs on him, taken him to jail. But something stopped me, and it was I had just come out of this retreat. And I got the little girl, got him to give me the little girl, took care of her, got her and her mom set, told them just to leave, went back. And I just talked to this guy from my heart, and within five minutes, I mean, I've got this big gun belt on. I'm about 5'3", right? And this guy's like 6'6". And he's bawling, you know. And I'm holding this guy with this big gun belt on and everything. And he was just in incredible pain, and that's what I started realizing we deal with is misplaced anger, because people are in incredible pain.”
Thich Nhat Hanh in his poem Warmth says:
"I hold my face between my hands. No, I am not crying. I hold my face between my hands to keep my loneliness warm, two hands protecting, two hands nourishing, two hands to prevent my soul from leaving me in anger."
Many years ago when I was in a lot of emotional pain I knew I had to do something other than just retreat and focus on the pain. I wrote the draft of book on dealing with anger and domestic violence. I submitted it to one publisher, was rejected and then put it on the bookshelf. Yesterday I saw it while sorting through my books. I had kept it, but for whatever reason, did not rewrite it or submit it to other publishers. The writing of it served the purpose of staying in touch with my pain while not allowing it to take over my life or for it to morph into anger which might have struck out to create more pain. I did not have the eloquent words of Thich Nhat Hanh but I did instinctively know or trust that I needed the comfort of touching my pain and turning it into something positive.
Thich Nhat Hanh again reminds us:
“It's like growing lotus flowers. You cannot grow lotus flowers on marble. You have to grow them on the mud. Without mud, you cannot have a lotus flower. Without suffering, you have no ways in order to learn how to be understanding and compassionate. That's why my definition of the kingdom of God is not a place where suffering is not, where there is no suffering …”
Clichés often do not seem very helpful and yet the reason they are so often repeated is because they contain a measure of truth. To say to someone, the equivalent of “you have no ways in order to learn how to be understanding and compassionate” does not feel very helpful when one is in the middle of the pain. Yet, as I look back over my life I am acutely aware of the fact that each moment in my life is intricately dependent on all the previous moments. In some very miraculous way each of the moments in my life was necessary to bring me to the present moment. If I could and did change one moment, I would change all the moments which followed. I am not saying that I think that violence is good or that we need the violence in the way that the lotus flower needs the mud. If we did not have the lotus flowers, we might have some other expression of beauty. Yet, if the mud arrives we can have the possibility of the lotus flower.
I invite you to listen once again to Thich Nhat Hanh:
“Yes. And suffering and happiness, they are both organic, like a flower and garbage. If the flower is on her way to become a piece of garbage, the garbage can be on her way to becoming a flower.
That is why you are not afraid of garbage. I think we have suffered a lot during the 20th century. We have created a lot of garbage. There was a lot of violence and hatred and separation. And we have not handled — we don't know how to handle the garbage that we have created. And then we would have a sense to create a new century for peace. That is why now is very important for us to learn how to transform the garbage we have created into flowers.”
I remind the reader that he said this in the interview with Krista Tippett in 2009. It seems we still have not learned how to handle the garbage, but have, in many respects, continued to create more garbage. Yet, there are wonderful flowers in the midst of midst of garbage.
I recall being in Estonia when it was still under control of the Soviet Union. There was no material for painting rebuilding and often not even food. Yet, as I was walking around the city I would see sculptures build out of discarded munition parts. I also found that the one commodity which was frequently available for very little money was fresh cut flowers. In fact, I found this in many poor countries. Natural and created works of art were always available. Whether it was the beautifully carved and decorated fish hooks, canes and other necessities many Native Americans created or the quilts many women created to keep family members warm, the need for beauty in the midst of suffering was understood and respected as a necessity.
In his book, Tribe, Sebastian Junger discussed the richness of closeness and shared goals which often happen during a natural or person-made disaster. Often we are at our best when we are forced to focus on immediate survival needs and do not have the time or energy to rank order and mistreat each other – to survive by climbing on the back of each other.
In the midst of changes in Britain, the predictions of disaster with regard to the presidential elections in the United States and the ongoing violence such as what happened in Nice yesterday. we have the opportunity to hold our faces in our hands and to hold the face of each other in our tender, strong, compassionate hands. We have the opportunity of saying, “No, we will not give more of our soul to hatred and violence. Neither will we lay down and give up. We will rise from the rubble. We will do what perhaps is most disconcerting and frightening. We will love ourselves, each other and those whose lonely pain could otherwise lead them to a God who requires violent sacrifices. We will show the way to “transform the garbage we have created into flowers.”
Written July 15, 2016
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