Election Day
Yesterday, I was chatting with a friend who has become involved in a local campaign issue. She has been acutely aware of her reactions as she works hard for something very important to her. Frustration. Annoyance. Anger. Hurt.
After all, in a campaign, friends and family may not agree. Intelligent people suddenly seemed duped, clueless, myopic or self serving. E-mails are flying. Sharp words are exchanged. How could “they,” we wonder. “They” seemed to be such bright, thoughtful people before this election. We are also aware that “they” think the same of “us.”
As we talked, we wondered how we can become engaged in the political process thoughtfully and reflectively. We condemn the bitterness and divisiveness of the campaigns, but we also know we can fall prey to the same temptation to name call, scapegoat and play the blame game. It is enough to tempt us to choose one of the greatest demons-complacency. If I don’t care, I won’t have to feel the pain of loss.
Complacency allows us to put our heads in the sand to avoid the anxiety of real world issues. It leaves others to their own resources and lets the chips fall where they may. The silence of many citizens of Nazi Germany illustrates the dangerous allure of closing our doors as long as we are comfortable. We insulate ourselves from the pain of those who are not in our inner circle while those who suffer are in our midst.
So, how can we compassionately involve ourselves in our communities, our nation and our world without becoming angry, bitter and burned out? How can we be leaders in transforming ourselves and our relationships with others without becoming disillusioned and drained?
Seeds of wisdom
Amazingly enough, the answers lie in all of the great faith and wisdom traditions. The seeds of truth have been sown for centuries and all we need do is open our eyes.
When I studied Theology, I was moved by the common thread that ran through all the traditions. I pored through books on Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, and Jungian psychology. I read the poetry of mystics and sages. I visited mosques, synagogues, churches and cathedrals. I listened to the stories of people whose lives had been transformed by the simplest of teachings. I sat at the feet of teachers who had spent years serving communities in Central America, Viet Nam, Africa and the inner cities of the United States.
When they spoke with open hearts, they rarely talked about rules, doctrine and dogma. They did not stand on self-righteous soap boxes condemning those who chose a path that was different from theirs. Rather, they shared simple stories of people like you and me who wanted happiness and wholeness, but often acted out of fear, jealousy, anger or shame.
They were far from perfect. Yet, I noticed something rather remarkable. Most of them were willing to look into their own hearts to examine their motives before they sought societal change. They took the teaching very seriously that reminds us, “Remove the plank in your own eyes before you remove the splinter in your neighbor’s.”
They deeply listened to others’ stories. They asked questions. They acknowledged that each person had a worldview based on a deeply personal life experience. Their aim was to widen our narrow prism. They encouraged us to examine an issue from another perspective quite different from our own. Love of neighbor cannot be a cute platitude or obscure idea. It is a radical call to understanding, openness and compassion.
They also encouraged us to act. Transformation was not limited to our own singular path. Rather, they insisted that we live and breathe in community and we are called to live compassionately and mindfully within our communities. We are called to step outside of our insular world and respond using our own unique gifts: teaching, writing, healing, advocacy, political activism, counseling, leading, feeding or serving in some concrete way.
The response is not to be motivated by guilt which is just another destructive egoic reaction. Rather, response is motivated by profound personal transformation in which we consciously choose how we will act.
Finally, they taught us to rest and surrender. If we are compulsively attached to our own version of the truth, to our own desired outcome, then our passion turns to resentment, vehemence, and wrath.
Cultivating the soil
These teachings are in every wisdom tradition:
- Look into our own hearts with open eyes to foster self-awareness. Let go and surrender old ways that have become a burden. This helps us develop an inner rudder that helps us navigate turbulent waters.
- Open our hearts to other’s experiences and listen to a story quite unlike ours. We don’t have to agree with the fruits of this life experience, but we can listen so that we understand a perspective very different from our own. Guidance on the inner journey comes through relationships which help us discern.
- Respond with conscious action in our own lives, relationships and communities.
- Rest in the awareness that every event births another. We can’t always control outcome. Loss and pain are inevitable throughout our lives. Sometimes, we simply don’t KNOW anything for certain, so we rest in conscious cooperation with the flow of Life.
How can we cultivate this soil? Over the next few weeks, this column will devote itself to reflections and practices that foster looking into our own hearts, listening to others’ stories, responding with conscious action, and resting in conscious cooperation with Life just as it is. These four practices stimulate timeless insights that have the power to transform divided communities.
Fortunately, the election will go on. Some will experience a sense of hope, others will be discouraged and frustrated. We will feel our feelings, express our disappointment or joy, and then continue the journey towards our own awakening. The greatest loss would not be our issue or candidate’s defeat. Rather, it would be the loss of hope that we can impact this world in a way that honors our connection to one another and to this amazing Earth on which we live.
My friend embodies courage because she chose dedication, caring and commitment over apathy and cynicism. She chose to allow a challenging campaign to teach her to open her heart to the things she resists-hurt, disappointment, anger. She knows that letting go will take some time. Yet, she will use this election as grist for the mill of awareness.