Kindness

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

~Naomi Shihab Nye

Humility

“Would you become a pilgrim on the road of love? The first condition is that you make yourself humble as dust and ashes.” ~Rumi

Why is the cure for a funky mood always a lesson in humility?

I was feeling pretty badly earlier. Things improved a little with a trip to the library and a nice dinner.

My son loaned me a dvd called Grave of the Fireflies, a Japanese film about two kids struggling to survive in WWII Japan.  Tonight seemed like a good night to watch it. It is beautifully made and absolutely heart wrenching. It was apparently based on a true story, though it would have been devastating even as a work of fiction.

Films like this one keep me humble. In addition to the deep compassion I felt for the characters in this story, it gave me such a feeling of gratitude for the blessings in my life. I could relate to the main character’s sense of responsibility and determination to do whatever was necessary for he and his little sister to survive. He had the weight of his sister’s entire existence on his shoulders, and he was just a boy.

For some reason this movie helped me understand my feeling of suffering earlier today. Humility is a quality I wish to cultivate in myself. But how does one learn humility? By being humbled. Much of the time when I’m sad or upset it is due to some humbling situation I find myself in. For reasons I don’t fully understand yet, I don’t usually connect the suffering with the qualities I am trying to cultivate in myself until something else provides a different context or perspective from which to look at things.

Nobody likes to suffer. I’m not unique that way. But I want to honor my suffering by transforming it into something good, like humility or compassion or gratitude. When I think of suffering as my path to these wonderful qualities, it makes it easier to endure.

That movie hit me right in the solar plexus. And in the heart. I don’t think I could cry if I wanted to right now, but it hurts. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to get over it tonight.

There is such an odd beauty in tragedy. It really does make the world an amazing place.

Roger Ebert wrote a beautiful review of this film. It’s worth checking out if you would like several compelling reasons to see this movie. You can find his review here.

Meaning amidst chaos

I haven’t been writing much lately.  It’s always curious to me that the more I have on my mind, the less able I am to write.  It’s almost like the opposite of writer’s block.  Sometimes I have so many thoughts in my mind I can’t hold on to one long enough to write about it.

And then there is my hesitation around sharing things that sound negative, even though I know they are not.  Even when I reflect on things that are sad or unfortunate, I do so with a heart full of hope.  I am always looking for the good and I find it in places that don’t always make sense to others.

Recently I read Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl.  It was one of the best decisions I have made in a while.  It made me feel less alone and less weird for my determination to see the beauty of this human experience regardless of what is going on around me.  I’d like to share one of the many passages that had me sobbing from it’s simple eloquence.  While trudging through ice and snow, starving, trying not to fall, Frankl, thinking of his wife, has this incredible insight:

“A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers.  The truth–that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire.  Then I grasped the meaning  of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart.  The salvation of man is through love and in love.  I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world may still know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved.  In a position of utter desolation, when man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist in enduring his sufferings in the right way–an honorable way–in such a position man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulfillment.  For the first time in my life I was able to understand the meaning of the words, The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.”

One of the things I love about this book is that Frankl seems to understand that human suffering is relative.  He doesn’t declare that what he went through was worse than someone who suffers in some other way, although most of us know that we haven’t experienced anything close to what the holocaust victims endured.  I find it fascinating that no matter what circumstances we find ourselves in, our degree of suffering is largely self-determined.  It’s possible to be in more despair over something superficial and arguably unimportant than something life threatening; it’s all about perspective.

So I was thinking about love and how it helps us to endure just about anything.  If it weren’t for my kids I don’t know how I would have made it through some of my recent darker moments.

In ways that most people take for granted, real love has eluded me my entire life.  When I was growing up there were two things that never happened at all in my recollection that most people just assume are a normal part of growing up.  Neither one of my parents ever said the words I love you to me or my siblings and we were never hugged, ever.  In fact, my parents thought that saying those words made a person weak and ridiculous.  The only physical contact I can remember was being hit, kicked, slapped, beaten or otherwise touched inappropriately.  Verbally, we were either criticized or accused.  Aside from that we were ignored.  I have to admit, one advantage to being the youngest child in that family was I was ignored more than my siblings.  I wasn’t of any real use to anyone, so I was just left alone most of the time.

What’s the point of sharing this?  Not really sure other than I know writing about these things recently has been therapeutic for me.  However, one of the things I want to share is how even though the circumstances of my childhood were bleak and truly difficult for me, I was a happy kid.  I sorta had to be.  The family relied on me to be the tension breaker, the cute one who acted silly and made everyone laugh.  To this day I find it very difficult to be near a situation of conflict between two people without trying to make it better.  I think that’s why I focused on mediation in law school.  It’s probably also why I worked as an ombudsman early in my career, before law.

So parental love was not part of my experience growing up.  As much as I have been able, through counseling and tons of introspection, I have dealt with it and tried to make the best of all of it.  What I went through as a kid created the compassionate and empathetic heart I have today.  And truthfully, those are the things I like best about myself.  I am capable of great depths of kindness and compassion because of the things I have experienced in my life.  It is very difficult for me to see someone suffering.  I would rather suffer myself than see another creature in pain, whether physically or emotionally.

I think this bumpy start I got in life spilled over into the area of romantic love and made things bumpy there as well.  I’m alone and I would prefer not to be, but find myself no longer willing to compromise and accept a person who criticizes me constantly, cheats on me, lies to me and takes advantage of me.  I’ve had way too much of that in my long-term relationships.  I’m not sure what it will take for me to find someone to fall in love with, but I just know he’s out there and he’s looking for someone exactly like me.

I have one thing going for me in this romantic love issue–the way people are magnetically drawn to me.  And as I become the more healthy me, I am going to attract other healthy people.

There have been some big changes in my perspective the past few years, but I have never been more confident about why I am here and what my purpose is on this earth.  I am here to show love, compassion and forgiveness to everyone and let go of all negativity and hard feelings that have been a part of any relationship I have had.  I am choosing to look at every person as a teacher who carries a lesson that I will learn through my interactions with them.

Most of my life I felt like when I die my tombstone should read: I’m Sorry.  You name it, I’m sorry for it.  Because I have spent a good deal of my life sort of apologizing to the entire world just for being here.  I think I have apologized enough.  I’ve done the penance, I get to be happy now because I know myself and I know that I am a good person wanting only to do good in the world.  Mistakes are made, lessons are learned.  I am not my mistakes and I am done judging and punishing myself for the events of my life.  I know how sad my life story sounds, but I believe I have been called to bear that burden as graciously as possible and not to let the experiences go to waste.  If anyone at all can be helped by the telling of my story, even me, then it needs to be told.

All I ever wanted as a kid was for someone to be gentle with me, care about me unconditionally and let me know I was okay.  That didn’t happen.  But I have now figured out that it’s okay because I can have those things for myself by being that for others. There is such beauty and hope in that thought.

These are some of the lessons I have learned, painfully, in the past couple of years.  My search for meaning…and finding it.

The Road

Last night I watched a movie with my kids, The Road, a post apocalyptic story of a father and son traveling the barren earth trying to stay safe while being followed by cannibals and others willing to do harm to survive.  The boy was born after the unnamed catastrophe that afflicted the earth, so the gray devastation was how the world had always looked to him.  Throughout their journey, the father was trying to show the son that he couldn’t trust anyone, that if they shared what they had they would suffer and that he must learn to see things differently if he wanted to survive.

The son was about 8 years old and in spite of all he must have seen in his short life, he wanted to help everyone they encountered and had a lot of difficulty with the violence required to survive.   He was the brightest, most innocent light against this dark, depressing backdrop.

We rented this movie from Netflix because it sounded like it might be suspenseful and just scary enough to be entertaining, but not enough to induce nightmares.  I suppose there was a little of both of those qualities present in the film, but the thing that stood out to me was the heart of the little boy.

I do not see that boy as being different from any child.  In fact, considering the recent events in Japan, I believe there are many children currently facing a version of the nightmare presented in the film.

Children are amazing.  My kids are much older, the youngest are teenagers, but I have often been surprised at what gentle, optimistic souls they are no matter what happens in their world.  I protect them as best I can, but they have not had it all that easy all of the time.  They haven’t had a lot of the things that so many kids take for granted and yet, they never complain or whine about their circumstances.  They are truly an inspiration to me at times.

This movie touched my heart so deeply that I thought about it for hours afterward.  I cried pretty hard a few times at the pure innocence of the little boy.  It makes me tear up now just thinking about it.  Even when they themselves had gone long periods without food, the boy wanted to share what little they had with passing strangers on the road.  In one instance, they came across an old man who immediately thought they were going to rob him.  Instead, the boy convinced his father to give the man a can of fruit they had scavenged from an abandoned farmhouse.  After agreeing reluctantly and telling his son that no, they could not keep him, the father invited the old man to eat dinner with them.  After dinner they parted ways and the pair continued on their journey.

This movie was so profound because regardless of the backdrop or landscape, we all suffer, it’s a fact of life.  It’s one of the first things I learned from Buddhism–life is suffering and the cause of suffering is attachment, clinging and grasping.  Much of the suffering we humans experience is self-created and can be relieved by putting things into perspective and letting go of attachment.  I would say that the father in the movie suffered because he felt he had to hold onto everything so there would be enough for him and his son.  And the father was willing to do things to survive that his little boy’s mind and heart could not comprehend. As is human nature before the time we are taught otherwise, this boy’s heart was filled with compassion and a desire to ease the suffering he saw all around him.

There was one scene when the father was chastising the son about his generous nature and he told the boy the reason he was able to be that way was that he was not the one who had to worry about things, about protecting them and making sure they survive.  The boy replied that yes, he was the one who had to worry and be concerned about how they were going to make it.  So honest and yet, so revealing that in every circumstance, no matter how dire or bleak, we have a choice as to how to respond.  The father understandably responded to their situation with fear, but the boy responded with love and compassion.  It was beautiful.

Part of me understands this boy on such a fundamental level.  I was raised by fearful parents.  Fearful and capable of violence, just like the dad in the movie.  My family also did all they could to convince me that the world is a bad and dangerous place full of people who wish to harm me and take everything from me.  My family had a strong work ethic, but also had a kill or be killed attitude.  It’s one of the reasons I never felt like I fit in and probably one the biggest reasons I am estranged from them today.

Though the movie ended while the little boy was still a child, I wonder if the character was able to keep that childlike innocence.  I truly believe that cultivating such innocence in oneself is what makes the difference between living a life of cold hardness and a life of open-hearted compassion.  Compassion does not come from the rational, ego-driven place in us, it comes from the heart.  And it is cultivated by keeping things in perspective.  The father in the movie was afraid of someone taking what little he was able to accumulate for him and his son.  I’m sure he didn’t actively want to hurt anyone, but he was willing to resort to violence to protect their stuff. But the truth is, nobody can steal from us what we give with an open hand and an open heart.

Suffering comes from attachment.  There is no thing worth the suffering that comes with trying to keep it.  And there is only one constant in life, change.  Impermanence is the way of things.  We will lose everything we cling to, the clinging only means we will suffer as we lose those things.

We are born into this life alone with nothing and we will leave it the same way.  No amount of clinging or grasping can change that.  So maybe the key to making the in between parts more peaceful and joyous lies in letting go.

It’s been a long time since a movie has had such an effect on me.  The Road goes straight to my list of favorites and I look forward to thinking more about the messages contained in it.

May all creatures have peace and ease of well-being.

Cheryl

 

Serendipitous synchronicity

I need to just say it straight up.  I thought yesterday sucked, but, and I can’t even coherently state why, today sucked even worse.  I have not felt as badly as I did today in many moons.  Thank goodness.

It’s not in my best interest to call this struggle.  Stuff is happening in my world, not all of it is good, the stuff that’s bad really blows and there has been so much of it the past few days that today I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Today was one of those days where there was so much crying and angst that I am physically exhausted from it.  I felt like I was completely alone in the world.  I didn’t feel like I could reach out to anyone and that if I did, I could never tell them what’s going on.  The reason?  Shame.

We’re in a tough economy.  Lots of people are suffering in our country and around the world.  And for some reason, at least in this country, there is a sense of shame and humiliation lying beneath the issues that are hurting people.  If there is blame to be cast, I’m going to point at consumerism and the media, specifically those who use shame and humiliation as a marketing tool to cause people to strive for things that don’t matter in the big picture.  And convince people the more things they have, the more valuable they are as humans.

When I did manage to reach out to someone, it was ultimately cathartic, but felt like an out of body experience that lasted most of the day.  I felt out of control of my faculties being in such despair over the way things are .  Eventually, I was able to articulate my main problem.  Of the things that have happened in my life recently, it’s not the events themselves that are problematic, at least not in the bigger sense.  It is the shame that leads to isolation that is the problem.  It helped to be able to identify the real source of my pain.

Not long after that realization I needed to run some errands and make some personal business phone calls.  The day had so taken its toll that I went out with no makeup and eyes swollen almost shut from crying.  Those who know me know how badly I would have to feel to go out like that. But the most amazing thing happened.  Every single person I encountered, both in person and over the phone treated me with so much compassion, kindness and gentleness that I felt certain I was among angels sent to assure me that all is well.

When I got home I took a hot bath and got into pajamas and decided to just be calm and look at Facebook and Twitter and only write if I truly felt moved to do so.  The first thing I saw on FB was a link to a website: being.publicradio.org.  I didn’t even see the post the person was sharing because I was immediately drawn to another post on the site.  It was a blog response to an interview with Sharon Salzberg, a favorite Buddhist teacher, on The Humiliation of Suffering.  Both the interview and the blog post brought the comfort that comes with knowing I’m not alone.

My thoughts since then have been that perhaps the reason my emotional roller coaster ride was so violent the past few days is being the empath that I am, I am picking up on the pain of many, many other people.  Some who are not fortunate enough to have the writing skills to put up a blog or who are not aware enough to fully understand why they feel so upset and isolated.  And suddenly, I felt the reason I cried so hard today was not just because I’m facing difficulties of my own.  I feel like I wept for the entire world of people who are hurting and feel like they can’t tell anyone. It really explains the level of emotional pain I experienced.

It was no accident I stumbled on that blog and interview.  It was no accident that people responded to me the way they did today.

My greatest desire is to be an inspiration to people who suffer.  As someone who can almost say I’ve seen it all, my wish is to demonstrate that anything can be overcome and above all, you are not alone. We are all in this together.

Since my second greatest desire is to help people see that life is more comedy than tragedy and that we can all stand to lighten up a little, I’ll sum it up like this: I really took one for the team today.  And how.

Cheryl