Eyes Wide Open

This weekend, the American Friends Service Committee-sponsored exhibit, Eyes Wide Open, made a stop here in Downingtown, PA. A stark and moving visual representation of the individual human cost of our military involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan, Eyes Wide Open is a memorial dedicated to the fallen soldiers and Iraqi civilian fatalities in the form of a pair of boots or shoes representing each life lost.

The Quaker Meeting I attend had the honor of hosting this display of 190 pairs of military boots... one for each soldier from Pennsylvania that was killed. A tag adorned each pair, bearing the name and the hometown for the son or daughter (brother, sister, mother, father...) and in some cases, a photo, notes, letters, and other mementos donated by their loved ones.

A perfectly beautiful autumn day... colored leaves swirling among rows of boots standing in silent attention.

Included in this exhibit was also a small memorial, entitled "The War Within", dedicated to the more skewed numbers of hidden casualties...'white boots' representing the soldiers who had taken their own lives upon returning home.

Offering my help in any way possible to this effort, I was given the task of helping to move the exhibit from its current location inside the schoolhouse, protected from the previous day's rain, to the outdoors... a place just across the field and within view of plain Quaker headstones. In particular, I was asked to relocate the display of shoes representing the Iraqi civilians who were killed during the conflict to a clearing just in front of our playground.

I carefully gathered the pairs of shoes, tagged with foreign names, and ages ranging from 80 to a mere month old.... sandals, sneakers, dress shoes, tiny baby booties.. and, with the help of two other women, arranged them in a kind of labyrinth formation that invited the visitors to walk among them. It was then the full power of this exhibit hit me... as fully as I imagine it was intended to. I had already been a peace activist in mind and soul, but this... this went straight to my heart.

This is not a protest. This is not a political statement. This is a simple and stunning reminder of war, whether wrong or righteous...and its ultimate reality.

Teach Me the Use of Silence

The day before I attended Quaker Meeting last week, I was forwarded a link to a segment of the Bill Moyers Journal, exploring the motivations behind the July shooting spree in a Tennessee Unitarian Universalist church which was speculated to have been fueled by "shock jock" radio.

The introduction to the segment framed the intention of this presentation to drive home the underestimated power of words.

From Moyers, taken from the introduction:

"...the American author Oliver Wendell Holmes said that language is sacred, and wrote that its abuse should be as criminal as murder. He called it "...verbicide...violent treatment of a word with fatal results to its legitimate meaning..." America has yet to make "verbicide" a hanging offense. Indeed under the First Amendment guarantee of free speech, pretty much anything goes. There are some limits — Holmes' son was the Supreme Court justice who noted in a famous opinion that you cannot falsely shout fire in a crowded theater. That's because words have consequences and not just in politics."

I've been trying, and failing, since that day to put my response into words. In listening to the voices and rhetoric portrayed in this clip.. which I never had before, nor care to again... I was filled with mixed emotions, surprisingly none resembling anger, but more along the lines of grief and heartache.

The obstacle I faced in trying to articulate my message, I think, was in separating out the action and the alleged motivation from the underlying question concerning exercising one's freedom of speech.

Our beloved First Amendment.

Like all of our 'freedoms', I tend to believe they were secured with an assumption of an understanding of personal responsibility. That while these amendments grant us freedom as individuals, they still must be exercised within the context of the larger society. Just because you have the right to say something, doesn't always mean that you should. And just because there's no legal responsibility should you incite enough emotion in an already distraught human being with your words so that he opens fire in a crowded church, doesn't mean that there isn't cause to check in with your own conscience and sense of ethics to determine whether or not you are using your media platform responsibly.

We don't know how others will react to our words, even when offered with good intentions. Supportive and loving, or negative and hurtful, words are an extremely powerful vehicle... far beyond what we realize. And why is that? If we were to reflect even momentarily on how words have affected our own emotional state for good or ill, we might learn to be more conscious of what comes out of our mouths.

The day after viewing this video, I went to Meeting, hoping to get some clarity on what I could take away as a lesson from all this. Not surprisingly, most of the 'messages' delivered that day happened to echo sentiments of gratitude among several members for the Quaker way of silence and reflection. That Quakers believe in the presence of "that of God in everyone", and espouse the practice of looking within oneself in silence before opening one's mouth illustrates their understanding of the responsibility of consciously choosing words exchanged with our fellow human beings.

I am also reminded of the Eightfold Path in Buddhism: eight principles to live by for the cessation of suffering -- among them, "Right Speech".

Buddha defines right speech as:

1. to abstain from false speech, especially not to tell deliberate lies and not to speak deceitfully,
2. to abstain from slanderous speech and not to use words maliciously against others,
   
3. to abstain from harsh words that offend or hurt others, and
4. to abstain from idle chatter that lacks purpose or depth.
   

Positively phrased, this means to tell the truth, to speak friendly, warm, and gently and to talk only when necessary. (Thanks to thebigview.com for this excerpt.)

Referring back to Quaker Meeting that day, we had opened with a selected hymn which had given rise to the messages shared, entitled "Teach Me to Stop and Listen", written by Ken Medena.

"Teach me to stop and listen
Teach me to center down
Teach me the use of silence
Teach me where peace is found

Teach me to hear your calling
Teach me to search your word
Teach me to hear in silence
Things I have never heard."

Given that I have a voice, and a mouth, and a computer with internet capability, it has been no less a challenge for me to weigh my desire of whatever pops into my head against the wisdom of saying it... and to maintain constant vigilance over whether or not my words will reflect my greater intention of being a force for peace and a channel of grace in this world.

May god help me.

Big Mama

Where will SHE go? Suggestions?

Wawa in Downingtown, PA

Violence on My Behalf

Pulling up behind an SUV today, I was perplexed by a bumper sticker which read:

"We sleep peacefully in our beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on our behalf."

Wow. I mean, WOW.

Now, this is a quote, I was soon to discover, attributed to George Orwell. (There was some small dispute to that end as well, but that's another story.) Since reading this line, I've been trying to ascertain its intent. If Orwell was indeed the author, I can assume that its meaning may have been tinged with irony.

However, the original context in which I came across this message.. without attribution, but placed beneath another sticker which read: "Support Our President, Support Our Troops"... gave it a slightly different meaning, as you can imagine.

Either way, I think my emotional response would be the same. I do happen to sleep peacefully, blessedly peacefully, each night, knowing full well there are willing people doing violence; and unwilling people being killed as a result. I have been reminded through a variety of phrasings and admonitions that I should be grateful for my freedom earned through bloodshed.

What can I say to that?

Can I be sure that my way of life could have been gained through less violent means? Is there a way I can request for violence NOT to be done on my behalf, please? And be prepared for whatever may come as a result?

How, then, shall I read that quote.. as an accusation of ingratitude, or of complicity?

(My immediate response: leaving a small peace crane in the dish soap aisle of Wegman's, while I ponder this some more...)

Spectacular Sight

Last evening I was able to time my return from the beach with a visit to the unveiling of 1000+ paper peace cranes at Central Baptist Church in Wayne PA, for the beginning of Hiroshima/Nagasaki Memorial Week (August 3-10).

This event was timed along with their monthly "peace dinner' and vigil.. on this day, focused on preventing another war in Iran, and an even greater threat of nuclear holocaust, more deadly than that in Japan 64 years ago.

I, and three of my sons, were welcomed to a Japanese-themed meal, highlighted with messages of peace, hope and inclusion of all faiths from various members of CBC, and a video viewing of the story of Sadako. Of course, the highlight for me was the stunning display of the paper birds, hung around the MLK Commons... adorning the windows and the walls. The most impressive aspect was the two mobile-type hangings, on either side of the stained-glass window depicting 'swords beaten into plowshares'... the intention being to simulate the graceful flight of hundreds of cranes. Breathtaking. (And personally thrilling to know that many of my own little ones were soaring with their kin..)

And now, more photos:

Marshall Rosenberg

Though I've recommended his work a number of times over the last decade, I've never actually seen Marshall Rosenberg, founder of the Center for Nonviolent Communication, speak. Here is one of a number of videos being made available on youtube.. check it out, and search out more.

News from the Hatchery

A flock of these delicate bearers of peace has been born and is being prepared to set free to take part in a presentation coming in August during Hiroshima/Nagasaki Memorial Week.

They will be delivered tomorrow to begin the process of being hung in display. Pictured here are about 80.. I hope to reach my goal of 100 by the morning..

Updates to follow.

Avatar

I'm half-watching one of the only, or possibly only, shows of substance on Nickelodeon, called Avatar: The Last Airbender. I've been keeping up with it weekly with a couple of my kids (and at times, my husband)... it involves your basic good forces against evil, or rather, a balance of power gone drastically and horrifically unbalanced.

The show has a decidedly Eastern flavor.. the four nations that populate the world are distinguished by element: the Earth, Air, Water and Fire Nations, all cohabiting peacefully until the Fire Nation runs amok and makes war on the other nations.

Each nation gives rise to its own practitioners of element mastery.. 'benders' they are called, as in earth benders, air benders, etc. The maneuvering of the individual elements is based on a particular style of martial arts, which, even in animated form, is stunning to watch.

As the intro narration will inform you, the world's only hope against the formidable leader of the Fire Nation, is the Avatar... a reincarnation of hundreds of avatars before him or her, and master of all the elements.. kind of an amalgam of the Dalai Lama and Bruce Lee. In this particular show, the current reincarnation whose fate is inextricably tied in with that of the world's, is a young boy named Aang.. a child who has not yet mastered the art of fire bending and risks being no match for the Fire Lord when his time comes.

What I love about this show, and possibly to my eventual disappointment, is that Aang is caught up in the conflict between his monk-led training in the sacredness of all life, and the seeming inevitability that the only hope lies in his killing of the Fire Lord. (And all this on a popular, commercialized cable kids tv show!)

Even as Aang consults with his predecessors in the Spirit World, and is offered a variety of advice based on their personalities, the one voice that he holds the most respect for tells him that his own spiritual development must be sacrificed for his given duty of saving the world, whatever that may mean. (Which, of course, he takes to mean that he must take a life).

I have yet to see how this plays out.. and even so, I won't reveal the outcome, except to say that in one recent scene, Aang passed up on his one opportunity to take out the Fire Lord.

So, back to it.. I'm a little distracted. Tune in for more.

Millennium Message

Cleaning out my email box, I came upon this message I had saved (from 1999!!) and thought it would be appropriate to share here... though I was skeptical at first, as I am with anything attributed to Native American elders, a few searches did seem to concur that this was a speech delivered (to whom?) by 'The Elders', Oraibi, Arizona Hopi Nation in December of 1999. At any rate, I believe the message to be quite profound. Breathe it in.

A Hopi Elder Speaks

"You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour, now you must go back and tell the people that this is the hour. And there are things to be considered...

Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your Truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader."

And then he clasped his hands together, smiled, and said, "This could be a good time! There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those that will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are torn apart and will suffer greatly. Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open and our heads above water.

And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate. At this time in history we are to take nothing personally. Least of all ourselves. For the moment that we do our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt. The time for the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves! Banish the word 'struggle' from your attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration. We are the ones we've been waiting for."

Indeed.

More on That Forgiveness Topic

I know it's kinda lame to use other people's blog posts as one's own content, but I'm in a hurry and yet wanted to pass this along. It's good stuff, and I'm certainly open to comments:

"Forgiveness is a Team Sport"

Enjoy!

Call to Action

(Thanks to a friend for passing this along to me... I know what I'll be doing in the next couple weeks..care to join me?)

Join us to make and hang

1000 (origami) Cranes
(inspired by the novel Sadako and the Thousand Cranes)for
Hiroshima/Nagasaki Memorial Week August 3-10, 2008

Hanging in Central Baptist Church Martin Luther King Commons
106 W. Lancaster Ave.
Wayne, PA 19087

Origami expert available for workshops in your location
Origami paper donations welcome!
Contact: Jane Dugdale 610 527 4170 or tjdugdale@comcast.net

--a community effort for peace --

don't panic

I just read a story today about the rise of the 'new survivalists'.. folks who are preparing for the end of oil, worldwide economy crashes, and pretty much general mayhem as a result. These preparations involve homesteading, growing their own food, learning herbal-based remedies, and in some cases, stockpiling a weapons arsenal in anticipation of of defense against those that didn't prepare ahead.

All good things, in many ways... measures and lifestyles that perhaps we should have been following all along. My husband mused how interesting it was that we started down this path years ago, but abandoned it for whatever reason. As a matter of course, we are trying to head back in that direction.. getting serious about the garden again, cutting back on unnecessary expenses, learning a few self-sufficient skills.

As far as accumulating guns... well, we've had a few divergent views on this point. I understand the obligation to protect one's family, and it's been among my greater fears that my pacifist principles might be tested someday. But, I wonder, in addition to developing the skills to survive without the infrastructure, I would prioritize building community. In my mind, collaboration, community, sharing of resources and skills, strength in numbers.. all of these give me greater peace of mind and a sense of security than the idea of warding off inturders with a gun in my hand.

Yes, I believe big changes are coming for us. And yes, people are going to freak out. But what are we really facing? Huge changes in our lifestyle to be sure, but the key is to return to the way humans have always lived until very recently. And reliance on the tribe was part of that. As long as we can keep fear out of our responses, I believe we can make sane and wise choices that will lessen the negative impact and ensure that we can pull through this together.

back to it

Well, I thought I'd be merging this blog into my other catch-all one, but finding myself out on Route 30 again tonight, holding a "War is Not the Answer" sign, I was musing that the subject of peace is big enough to warrant a blog all of its own.

There were only four of us there tonight.. well, four adults, and two young'us; one of whom was keeping count of all the shows of support we received in the form of beeps, waves, and 'thumbs up's. (He counted 82 within the 45 minutes.. I think it was closer to 95). Not bad. I had wanted to ask the others if they were aware of any rise in affirmations over the course of the five years these vigils have been held, as I know public opinion toward this war has shifted toward opposition in recent years. But I forgot.

Just as before, it felt good to be there. Odd, but good. The rest of my family had taken off a couple hours prior for the shore, leaving me with a whole evening to myself, and so, I decided at the last moment to stand vigil with Friends, on this Memorial Day weekend. I'm glad I did. I feel heartened by the signs of many people out there signaling their desire for a better way.

thich nhat hahn

I am listening to this podcast as I write these words. There is nothing more I can add to it... my hope that it will be listened to.

http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/thichnhathanh/

Peace activism comes in many forms

Taking to the streets is one way to bear witness to the cause of peace, but there are many other ways -- many small actions we can throughout the day, every day to widen the circle, and start living as though world peace were a reality here and now (which it is... we just have to choose to live like it.)

- Think before speaking.
- Simplify your life.
- Let the other person go first.
- Smile at anyone who meets your eyes.
- Listen.
- Call that friend or family member you've been meaning to.
- Turn off the tv.
- Assume good intentions on the part of the other.
- Seek clarity.
- Clean up your messes.
- Forgive someone.
- Forgive yourself.
- Chew your food well (trust me on this one..!)
- Help out a friend, or better yet, a stranger.
- Express appreciation and gratitude at every opportunity.
- Pay attention to your feelings.
- Just pay attention.
- Hug.
- Hug more.
- Take responsibility (but avoid guilt)
- See yourself in someone else, and vice versa.
- Believe that there's enough for everyone, if we share.
- Find something to laugh about as often as possible (try looking in the mirror!)
- Realize that everyone, and I mean Everyone, has the same basic wants and needs as
you do.
- Extend your wishes to everyone that they will have those wants and needs met,
regardless of your feelings about them.
- Choose being kind over being right.
- Whatever it is, let it go.
- Suspend judgment whenever possible.
- Be totally present when saying good-bye, even if it will only be for a short time.
- Have faith that every little thing you do makes a difference.
- Breath in.
- Breathe out.

Anything else?

My First Vigil

It would seem for all the talking I do, I would have attended a peace vigil, protest, march or anything group-oriented long before today. Nope. Don't really know why, just never have. I think I often justified that the enormous effort I was making just navigating my own life without inflicting violence was heroic in itself. But, today, on the 5-year anniversary of our misadventures in Iraq, the conditions seemed right to invite (read: coerce) my four adorable and only slightly-sulky sons to accompany me to my local Quaker Meeting for a 45-minute gathering and potluck. I knew I'd probably want to write about it.. but I wasn't sure what aspect would generate "blog-fodder" (as I like to call it).

It was a lovely, balmy evening... the heaviest of the all-day rain seemed to have passed by the time we arrived. In spite of boy #1 & 2's best efforts to weasel out, we all filed into the Meetinghouse for the preliminary 15 minutes of Silent Worship. Regardless of where their heads were at in those moments, I was filled with such a sense of contentment and satisfaction, sitting there where I've sat for over six years, wishing my family were there with me-- and here they were (well, except for hubby)-- from the youngest, nestled in the crook of my arm, to the oldest on the end, head resting on his arm supported by the bench in front of him.

As I sat in silence, I reflected on where my own head was at. I felt light and happy... the somber purpose for our gathering, and the resistance thereof, was not in my range of focus. In that building, I have always felt warm and safe, and connected to like-minded people. It had been a long, dark, introspective... and self-absorbed couple of months; my energy had not at all been projected out into the world at large and for the greater good. What came to me was a refreshing reminder of the necessity of community.. for support, and, that we can only know the Divine through each other. In each of the spiritual schools of thought I draw from this holds true.. for Quakers, it is the Meeting; for Buddhists, the sangha (A Sanskrit word roughly translated to mean 'an association or company with a common goal or vision); and in pagan traditions, there is a circle, or coven. (Okay, I am sure some folks would accuse me of REALLY stretching it here, but there are socially-oriented pagan circles, and even when they gather just for magical purposes, it is with the idea of creating a sacred space, invoking the divine, and magnifying the energetic intention to create some kind of shift in the world. Am I so off-base?) Sitting there with my sons, and my friends (my Friends), I felt a small part of a much larger whole, but being in the place where I was, a very vital part... a light, a vibration, offering no resistance, only joy to be there, and with the intention for everyone I came into contact with to feel that.

Once out on the curb, with our umbrellas and signs reading, "War is Not the Answer", we were met with many supportive honking horns, and, as to be expected, some glares and screeching tires. (But it was all good.. love and light to everyone..) There were a number of exuberant teens present who would whoop and holler when a driver showed their support, and generally everyone was talking, laughing, waving to folks driving by. It was great to be there, wonderful to be with each other.. even one of the 'elders' was present, sitting in the drizzle, just behind our line, away from traffic.. a 90-year-old joyful man, and an extremely vocal advocate of the Quaker peace testimony (which sadly, nowadays, is in need of advocacy). I hardly recognized him, and he joked that being retired, he only feels compelled to dress nicely and shave on Sunday. Even my reluctant 7-year-old ended up with the sign I was holding and proceeded to work the traffic, thrusting it out emphatically when cars went by. I was so proud..

.. and so thankful to be part of it all. And whether or not our pleas for peace were heard by that small corner of our county, I like to believe that the magic created by a small group of people coming together for the purpose of ultimately spreading a message of love was felt far beyond that Route 30 curbside.