Thinking this morning about a friend. In 2003, on my drive to work as I neared the bluff overlooking Yocemento, a little collection of homes and a grain elevator about halfway between Ellis and Hays, I saw a big buck silhouetted at the top. I thought that was a pretty cool thing to see on my birthday.
I got to work a few minutes later and sat at my computer getting started on my day. Just a short time later, though, our photo editor took a call that was not good news. One of our former photographers had died in an accident near his hometown, discovered right about the time I was passing Yocemento.
I felt like the world dropped out from under me. I wouldn't say Mark and I were buddies, but we worked together and he always made me laugh. He was often bringing me gifts — a big Snoopy mug with candy at Valentine's Day, breakfast burritos from McDonald's — as a thank-you, he said, for reading over his photo cutlines before he submitted his photos for the paper. I appreciated the gestures, but I thought it was funny he would do that, since it was just part of my job.
But when a group of us from work went to his hometown for a viewing and to visit with his family a few days later, I learned that Mark had had a learning disability. His parents were told he probably wouldn't graduate high school because of it. He not only graduated, he went on to get both an associate's and a bachelor's degree and work in journalism.
I like to think the buck was actually Mark's spirit, if only for that moment, saying goodbye and maybe happy birthday. I miss him and wish I'd gotten to know him better.
People treat me as if I'm something special for surviving cancer. But I think Mark was a pretty special person, and he doesn't get to celebrate birthdays anymore. His loved ones and friends don't get to hear his laugh or hear his voice or tell him about their day. And it's the same for a handful of wonderful women I got to know through my breast cancer support group, for a good number of my high school classmates and for co-workers Matt and Martin. I think about them all very often and sometimes wonder why I am here and they are not.
I am lucky that I am still here to celebrate another birthday. But it is, really, another day that is no more special than the rest, and I am no more special than anyone else.
Showing posts with label philosphy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosphy. Show all posts
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Nourish peace
Arun Gandhi concluded his speech here with this:
It was a nice bookend, actually, to how he opened his speech, with a story attributed as a North American Indian legend (you've probably seen this going around Facebook recently):
As you stop to give thanks on this day, and as we celebrate the holidays or vow to make resolutions for the new year, I hope you'll stop to think of what you are nurturing in your life — and how that affects those around you.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Grandfather liked to tell us the story of an ancient Indian king who was obsessed with finding the meaning of peace. What is peace? How can we get it? And what should we do with it when we find it? These were some of the questions that bothered him. Intellectuals throughout his kingdom were offered a handsome reward to answer the king's questions. Many tried but none succeeded. At last, someone suggested the king consult a sage who lived just outside the borders of his kingdom.
"He is an old man and very wise," the king was told. "If anyone can answer your questions he can."
The king went to the sage and posed the eternal question. Without a word the sage went into his kitchen and brought a grain of wheat to the king. "In this you will find the answer to your question," the sage said as he placed the grain of wheat in the king's outstretched palm.
Puzzled but unwilling to admit his ignorance, the king clutched the grain of wheat and returned to his palace. He locked the precious grain in a tiny gold box and placed the box in his safe. Each morning, upon waking, the king would open the box and look at the grain seeking an answer, but he could find nothing.
Weeks later another sage, passing through, stopped to meet the king, who eagerly invited him to resolve his dilemma.
The king explained how he had asked the eternal question but was given a grain of wheat. "I have been looking for an answer every morning but I find nothing."
"It is quite simple, your honor," said the sage. "Just as this grain represents nourishment for the body, peace represents nourishment for the soul. Now, if you keep this grain locked up in a gold box it will eventually perish without providing nourishment or multiplying. However, if it is allowed to interact with the elements-light, water, air, soil-it will flourish and multiply, and soon you would have a whole field of wheat to nourish not only you but so many others. This is the meaning of peace. It must nourish your soul and the souls of others, and it must multiply by interacting with the elements."
It was a nice bookend, actually, to how he opened his speech, with a story attributed as a North American Indian legend (you've probably seen this going around Facebook recently):
An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. "A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy.
"It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego." He continued, "The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"
The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."
As you stop to give thanks on this day, and as we celebrate the holidays or vow to make resolutions for the new year, I hope you'll stop to think of what you are nurturing in your life — and how that affects those around you.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Passive violence is violence, too
More thoughts on Arun Gandhi:
Gandhi spoke a great deal on his grandfather's philosophy of nonviolence. And I found myself nodding right along with what he said. It coincides so much with what I have been reading lately. But there were some new things I managed to glean from what he said, too.
He spoke about avoiding physical violence, obviously, but he also spoke about passive violence. Having negative thoughts, speaking negatively about others, acting negatively are all forms of passive violence. And passive violence leads to physical violence.
And passive violence comes in forms you might not have thought of.
Arun Gandhi told a story about how one day he realized the pencil he was using for his studies his grandfather was having him do was getting short. It was still usable, but he wanted a newer pencil, so Arun just simply threw the pencil away while outside, then went to ask his grandfather for a new pencil.
Instead of just giving him one, Gandhi began asking him a lot of questions: What happened to the pencil he had? How short was it? Could he still use it? Instead of a pencil, young Arun got a flashlight and was ordered to find the pencil he threw away and use it until it was no more. He said it took him about two hours to find the pencil in the dark, and when he did, he took it to his grandfather.
Gandhi then explained to Arun that things like pencils, or our food or clothing, come from Earth's natural resources, and to waste them — as Arun did by throwing away a pencil he could still use — is violence against nature.
Additionally, as people of some means who could afford such things, to simply throw away usable items or uneaten food is taking them away from the less fortunate, and that is violence against humanity.
"Passive violence fuels the fire of physical violence," Arun said. So we should do what we can to not create violence in the first place, and also learn to channel our anger so that it leads to positive action instead of physical violence.
He told another story from his 18 months living in India with his grandfather.
Gandhi had many programs going on to help create freedom from India's caste system, suffrage for women, helping the poor, etc. These needed to be funded. Hundreds of people came every day for the interfaith prayer sessions Gandhi would conduct, and many wanted his autograph. So, to help fund his programs, he would charge people for his autograph.
Part of Arun's duties was to collect the autograph books, papers, etc. that people wanted signed, along with the fee. Arun thought to himself that he wanted his grandfather's autograph. But he didn't think he should have to pay for it. So one day, he snuck his own autograph book into the stack, but did not include any money.
When Gandhi came across that book while signing autographs for that day, he stopped and asked why there was no money with it. Arun spoke up that it was his, and that because he was family, he should not have to pay. His grandfather said no, that he would not get any special treatment and had to pay. Arun vowed he would get his grandfather's autograph somehow without paying for it. His grandfather said he would not.
Mohatma Gandhi would often have meetings with important political leaders at his home, and Arun though this would be a way to get his grandfather's autograph. He would walk into the meetings, and demand — in front of all these dignitaries — that his grandfather give him his autograph for free. Gandhi would merely put a hand over Arun's mouth, and with his other hand hold Arun's head against his chest and continue the meeting. He never — during the meetings or after — expressed any anger at Arun for the interruptions. Even when the visitors objected to having the boy interrupt the meetings and then Gandhi holding him quiet, Gandhi would simply explain that this was just a joke between he and his grandson and go on with the meeting.
If we can learn to control our anger half as much as Gandhi did, Arun said, it would do much to decrease violence in the world.
(Arun Gandhi said he never did get his grandfather's autograph, by the way.)
The thing we need to ask ourselves about our own actions, Arun said, is "If someone were to do this to me, would it hurt me or help me?"
I would add, that if the answer is it would hurt you (make you angry), then you need to examine why are you doing it, then. (And when I say "you," I'm not meaning any one specific. I mean myself as well. It's just easier to say "you." So if that makes you angry, channel it, dude).
If you say abusive things like someone is stupid, why? Why do you say negative things about how people dress, how they have their hair or if they have tattoos?
If someone's beliefs about religion or politics or social issues are different from yours, do you direct derogatory remarks at them? What does that do for you? Does it make you feel better about yourself? Why? What are your insecurities about yourself that you think tearing other people down will make you superior to them?
At the heart, we are all the same, all part of the same energy of the universe. When you put that kind of negative energy out in the universe, it doesn't come back to just you. It's felt by all. "Passive violence fuels the fire of physical violence."
Next post, maybe some thoughts on controlling your mind to channel that anger.
Gandhi spoke a great deal on his grandfather's philosophy of nonviolence. And I found myself nodding right along with what he said. It coincides so much with what I have been reading lately. But there were some new things I managed to glean from what he said, too.
He spoke about avoiding physical violence, obviously, but he also spoke about passive violence. Having negative thoughts, speaking negatively about others, acting negatively are all forms of passive violence. And passive violence leads to physical violence.
And passive violence comes in forms you might not have thought of.
Arun Gandhi told a story about how one day he realized the pencil he was using for his studies his grandfather was having him do was getting short. It was still usable, but he wanted a newer pencil, so Arun just simply threw the pencil away while outside, then went to ask his grandfather for a new pencil.
Instead of just giving him one, Gandhi began asking him a lot of questions: What happened to the pencil he had? How short was it? Could he still use it? Instead of a pencil, young Arun got a flashlight and was ordered to find the pencil he threw away and use it until it was no more. He said it took him about two hours to find the pencil in the dark, and when he did, he took it to his grandfather.
Gandhi then explained to Arun that things like pencils, or our food or clothing, come from Earth's natural resources, and to waste them — as Arun did by throwing away a pencil he could still use — is violence against nature.
Additionally, as people of some means who could afford such things, to simply throw away usable items or uneaten food is taking them away from the less fortunate, and that is violence against humanity.
"Passive violence fuels the fire of physical violence," Arun said. So we should do what we can to not create violence in the first place, and also learn to channel our anger so that it leads to positive action instead of physical violence.
He told another story from his 18 months living in India with his grandfather.
Gandhi had many programs going on to help create freedom from India's caste system, suffrage for women, helping the poor, etc. These needed to be funded. Hundreds of people came every day for the interfaith prayer sessions Gandhi would conduct, and many wanted his autograph. So, to help fund his programs, he would charge people for his autograph.
Part of Arun's duties was to collect the autograph books, papers, etc. that people wanted signed, along with the fee. Arun thought to himself that he wanted his grandfather's autograph. But he didn't think he should have to pay for it. So one day, he snuck his own autograph book into the stack, but did not include any money.
When Gandhi came across that book while signing autographs for that day, he stopped and asked why there was no money with it. Arun spoke up that it was his, and that because he was family, he should not have to pay. His grandfather said no, that he would not get any special treatment and had to pay. Arun vowed he would get his grandfather's autograph somehow without paying for it. His grandfather said he would not.
Mohatma Gandhi would often have meetings with important political leaders at his home, and Arun though this would be a way to get his grandfather's autograph. He would walk into the meetings, and demand — in front of all these dignitaries — that his grandfather give him his autograph for free. Gandhi would merely put a hand over Arun's mouth, and with his other hand hold Arun's head against his chest and continue the meeting. He never — during the meetings or after — expressed any anger at Arun for the interruptions. Even when the visitors objected to having the boy interrupt the meetings and then Gandhi holding him quiet, Gandhi would simply explain that this was just a joke between he and his grandson and go on with the meeting.
If we can learn to control our anger half as much as Gandhi did, Arun said, it would do much to decrease violence in the world.
(Arun Gandhi said he never did get his grandfather's autograph, by the way.)
The thing we need to ask ourselves about our own actions, Arun said, is "If someone were to do this to me, would it hurt me or help me?"
I would add, that if the answer is it would hurt you (make you angry), then you need to examine why are you doing it, then. (And when I say "you," I'm not meaning any one specific. I mean myself as well. It's just easier to say "you." So if that makes you angry, channel it, dude).
If you say abusive things like someone is stupid, why? Why do you say negative things about how people dress, how they have their hair or if they have tattoos?
If someone's beliefs about religion or politics or social issues are different from yours, do you direct derogatory remarks at them? What does that do for you? Does it make you feel better about yourself? Why? What are your insecurities about yourself that you think tearing other people down will make you superior to them?
At the heart, we are all the same, all part of the same energy of the universe. When you put that kind of negative energy out in the universe, it doesn't come back to just you. It's felt by all. "Passive violence fuels the fire of physical violence."
Next post, maybe some thoughts on controlling your mind to channel that anger.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Meaningful Coincidence?
I've been reading a lot lately about Veda, the ancient Indian philosophy from which came yoga and Hinduism, so I was pretty excited when I heard last week that Arun Gandhi, grandson of Mahatma K. Gandhi, would be speaking at the local university.
I was afraid I would miss part of his speech, since this is my month on rotation for working the Tuesday "late shift" in my department preparing three area weekly newspapers for the press and sending them to our printer. Sometimes, it means staying at the office til 7:30 or so, and Gandhi was to speak at 7:30. Fortunately, all the work was done by 7, and I got to hear his hour-long speech; I also stayed for the meet & greet afterwards til they wrapped it up about 9:30. Even asked him a question and shook his hand!
I'll probably write more on his speech and my thoughts, but it's getting late and no late shift tomorrow at work, so I need to head to bed. But I thought I'd share some of the things that struck me tonight.
• Anger is not a bad thing. It fuels us into action. Learning to channel that anger into something positive is the key to nonviolence, however.
• Scholars have said Mahatma Gandhi's approach of nonviolence is a tool for conflict resolution. Arun Gandhi said he disagrees — you either accept nonviolence or you don't.
• Passive violence fuels the fire of physical violence. In all our actions, in the things we do and say and think — we should ask ourselves "If someone were to do this to me, would it hurt me or help me?"
• I think this was one of my favorites: Arun Gandhi said his grandfather once told him your mind should be like a room with many open windows. Allow the breezes to blow in, but do not be blown away by any one of them.
I was afraid I would miss part of his speech, since this is my month on rotation for working the Tuesday "late shift" in my department preparing three area weekly newspapers for the press and sending them to our printer. Sometimes, it means staying at the office til 7:30 or so, and Gandhi was to speak at 7:30. Fortunately, all the work was done by 7, and I got to hear his hour-long speech; I also stayed for the meet & greet afterwards til they wrapped it up about 9:30. Even asked him a question and shook his hand!
I'll probably write more on his speech and my thoughts, but it's getting late and no late shift tomorrow at work, so I need to head to bed. But I thought I'd share some of the things that struck me tonight.
• Anger is not a bad thing. It fuels us into action. Learning to channel that anger into something positive is the key to nonviolence, however.
• Scholars have said Mahatma Gandhi's approach of nonviolence is a tool for conflict resolution. Arun Gandhi said he disagrees — you either accept nonviolence or you don't.
• Passive violence fuels the fire of physical violence. In all our actions, in the things we do and say and think — we should ask ourselves "If someone were to do this to me, would it hurt me or help me?"
• I think this was one of my favorites: Arun Gandhi said his grandfather once told him your mind should be like a room with many open windows. Allow the breezes to blow in, but do not be blown away by any one of them.
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