Tuning into the Climate of our Era

~Exploring Norms of Engagement

Yesterday, the man next to me on the bus snorted, “There is so much hate. It doesn’t matter what side you’re on, what country you’re talking about, there is so much anger and hate.” I had been watching him hover over his device for an hour reading the endless stream of news on social media. His face was visibly disturbed and fatigued; I recognized that strange and familiar digital age stupor.

When I got home, I changed out of my city clothes and sank deep into my sofa. I needed to watch that movie again. I loved that scene when Ruth Bader Ginsburg is standing on a street corner with her fifteen-year-old daughter trying to hail a cab while a group of construction workers are cat-calling. Her daughter yells at them defiantly before stopping a taxi and ordering her mother to jump in. Ruth stood there flabbergasted. Times had changed. The next generation had ushered in a new era; they were now ready to hear the call for gender equality.

 “A court ought not to be affected by the weather of the day but by the climate of the era.” 

In reality, the line from the law professor was, “The Court should never be influenced by the weather of the day but inevitably they will be influenced by the climate of the era.”

What is the climate of our era? Are we at a turning point in our history, to hear a new call for freedom and equality? I’m not sure. I don’t know if we know what we mean by freedom, democracy and equality anymore. Does freedom mean the same to you as it does to me?

In my book, I write we experience freedom when we are seen, acknowledged and appreciated for who we are; when we feel trust and belonging in social situations; when we feel worthy and useful in society. When a person can move into different spaces, adapt themselves without losing their sense of self and purpose and collaborate with others across differences towards a common goal, they experience the joy of freedom.

Does this mean freedom to you?

I argue that the two greatest barriers to the realization of freedom are considering another person’s freedom a threat to our own safety and security, and keeping us from the experience of freedom through abstraction. Both are a consequence of the mind, a lack of trust and fear.

I think it’s important for us to inquire into the climate of our era, to examine prevailing norms and beliefs, the nature of our relationships, the character of our society; to examine and listen to each other and learn what we mean when we say things. We can do this by looking inward, paying attention to our own shifting thoughts and beliefs and also by engaging with others with a new lens. When our mind is cluttered and concerned with threats (real or imaginary), it will hamper the natural flow of energy, blocking our ability to listen, to see things clearly, process information, and adapt ourselves to the existing situation. We don’t want to lose our sense of self, our sense of purpose and our dignity in discussions but we want to be responsive and open.

I suggest we set aside time to examine the norms of engagement that may impede open communication, trust and safety in discussions, the flow of information and the sharing of our ideas as it relates to freedom, equality and democracy. I also recommend that PLCs try on a new set of norms that may help change group dynamics and move learning into unexplored, generative territory.

Here are the Norms of Conscientious Engagement I introduce in my new book, Mindful Practice for Social Justice. I look forward to hearing about your experiences as you experiment with new ways of engaging.

Norms for CE.png

 

 

References:

On the Basis of Sex http://www.solzyatthemovies.com/2018/12/24/on-the-basis-of-sex/

 

Letting Go and Coming Together

“When we do zazen alone, it is not the same as when we do it with others. To do it alone the result is not so deep. And to continue doing it alone is difficult. But to do zazen with many others is the same as many logs burning.” Zen Teachings of Master Taisen Deshimaru

We can reconcile any difficulties in life with awareness and appreciation of shared human experience, that which comes from the discipline of mindfulness.

I am at a funeral parlor looking at the body of a woman who belonged to my childhood. In the wooden box, she looks petite and empty while in life she filled up the room with noble height and energy. I look around and think, what do I say to the mourning family, and to this group of distant friends and strangers? What words have meaning when no one really knows the association, the level of attachment, the impact she had?

One by one a person gets up to speak. Then the music plays, followed by a lively preacher. It is all so simple now. It is human connection, feelings moving, a communication of spirit. The preacher knows this, for this is his gift, to make us feel connected in this strange and uncomfortable space called death. He knows that we all have something in common, and it is more than our relationship to this woman. I sit real still and open myself to my senses.  I am no longer in my body.

I am at another funeral now with a different woman in the box, older, petite, empty. I am told I am to sit in the front row with the family. I don’t think it is my place to be in the front row but I do as I am told and as the ceremony proceeds, I become her family.

Awareness of shared human experience, that which comes from the discipline of mindfulness, is the beginning of all meaningful and transformative interaction in society. This awareness can only be achieved when we strip away identity, knowledge, language, words that define us, the constructs of our mind that categorize and delineate who we are in relation to each other, and our role in society.

It is difficult to see each individual in our midst, especially those who we have no real attachment to, no association with, no understanding of how we adorn our lives– as family. Family as in equal in value to those closest to us. It is difficult to see others as in need of our love and protection. I think if we can think this way, and be this way more, as in coming together as family, we will be fair and kind and enlightened in our interactions with each other. We would give ourselves permission to reach out more across lines. Why is this so difficult?

I see a child sitting on the carpet building a tall structure out of wooden blocks. There she is again on a beach erecting a sand castle. I see the shock and sadness that envelopes her when the tower topples over. What does she do now, with this emptiness, this hole that is left in place of her creation? What does she have to learn in this process?

There is a swift pain and sadness when we first learn about letting go. We want the tower or the castle to stay on forever. It is so beautiful and we enjoyed building it. And yet, when it is knocked over by time, a passerby, or an unexpected tide, we are required to see things differently. It is the great encounter with the silence that lies between then and now, the precise moment in which one must decide, shall I start again on my own or walk away in search of solace and company? And on and on it goes.

When we talk about the practice of mindfulness and we share a deep desire for a more just and enlightened society, we are talking about knocking down our towers and castles, and allowing the tenderness of heart, and loss to come into our lives, to see the emptiness and futility of holding onto earthly creations. They are all folly and temporary besides, and to be able to look into that open space in time, just when the castle has fallen and we are left suspended, deciding what to do and where to go, it is there we search for new possibility and belonging.

Herein lies the difficulty and promise of letting go and coming together.

The Gift of Freedom for the Holidays

Every year, my family and I engage in a back and forth, group chat style discussion via email about how we want to celebrate our holiday. This year, like the last, I began to notice new, challenging behaviors and a bit of a strain. I’ve been thinking a lot about how what is going on in my family is also going on in society. Traditions and social norms are being examined every day and many are being confronted. It seems to me we have always relied on certain customs, rituals and symbols to bring us together, so I can’t help wonder how these emerging developments will transmute our society in the future.

freedom symbols

Rituals are a set of behaviors, a series of actions and the handling of certain objects designed to produce feelings of joy, gratitude, appreciation, honor or tribute. A ritual can be very personal like lighting a candle before prayer, or it can be shared like singing carols in a circle. These activities can enrich our lives by creating a sacred space, honoring a shared history or cultivating bonds, but they can also work against us, making us feel trapped into outdated modes of behavior or make us feel like we have to pay tribute to values we no longer hold dear. How can we honor our history, hold onto togetherness and continue to build relationships while at the same time creating a safe space and freedom to explore new ways of being and doing?

It takes courage to say no to a long standing tradition. Whether in a family unit or a school environment, rituals were designed to build community and preserve important values. How do we know when it’s time to disengage and how do we communicate a desire to change in a thoughtful way? Any challenge or adjustment to group norms can threaten our sense of security. Standing out, or standing up for something new can produce fear and suspicion. The human spirit yearns for belonging and authentic relationships. We are instinctively drawn to each other like insects to light. Yet, some rituals, traditions and symbols have become problematic. Some things have lost their purpose. Isn’t it normal to wonder whether our actions, our behavior and our attachment to certain symbols reflect who we are, right now, at present? Haven’t you ever experienced the pang of unrest or detachment? Partaking in rituals merely out of habit, obligation or fear of negative consequences can cause distress and suffering for individuals and even whole communities when the ritual represents a past injustice or no longer serves a higher purpose.

The time has come, the walrus said! to reflect and take notice of the rituals and traditions in your midst. Do they feel authentic? How do others feel about the customs we take for granted? As uncertain as it may feel at times, we must dare to look through the cracks to see a brave new world emerge. Maybe the best gift we can give ourselves and each other this season is freedom; freedom to dare, to look, to pause, to reflect, to reimagine what it means to live an undivided life, and to come together as ‘one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.