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True

Last night I watched the movie Mulan on Disney Plus.  It’s a story of ancient China.  Invaders from the north are threatening the country and the Emperor declares that each family must give a son to the war effort.  Mulan is a girl of 16.  She has no brothers.  Out of honour, her hobbled father says that he will join the fight.  To protect him, Mulan disguises herself as a boy and leaves home under the cover of darkness.

Mulan and her fellow recruits are trained not only in skills and strength but also in values.  At one point, the General has them unsheath their swords and raise them to the sky – being loyal … brave … true.  Mulan’s arm reaches straight up and she yells the word for the first two, but not for the third.  Despite her commitment to family and country, she is living a lie.  Later in the film, she reveals that she is a woman.

I loved the movie.  After going to bed, I laid back and replayed my favourite parts on my phone.

Morning came.  Lying amid sleep and wakefulness, words started tumbling from me.  “Sweetness and light.”  “There is love in the world.”  “Simply this.”  I wasn’t thinking … the words just bubbled up from Nowhereland.  As my mind began to focus, I thought of tonight.  I thought of what I might write in my blog.  I remembered reading someone’s turn of the phrase that made me laugh: “loose in the vowels”.  Yes, my vowels were loose in the hour before sunrise.  That’s what I’d write about.  Besides, it was a clever title (not mine, however).

After showering, I took out a piece of paper and wrote down the phrases that I told you about.  “A good start.  Every time there’s another flow from my mouth, I’ll write it down.  Maybe I’ll have twenty of them by suppertime – plenty for a blog post.”

Now, here’s the rub.  During the day, I tried.  I’d sit in the meditation chair and allow my mind to quieten.  It was a classic means to an end: Meditation → Quiet Mind → Bubbling Words → Post.  So much for spontaneous.  As I lay in my bed again an hour ago, accompanied by my trusty sheet of paper with eleven examples, I returned to Mulan.  What I was doing wasn’t true.  It was narrow and strategic rather expansive and mysterious.

No thanks

I got up, placed the sheet in the recycle bin, and smiled
Now I know what I’m going to write about

A Simple No

Ten days ago, a friend sent me a link to an online concert, featuring a bevy of undoubtedly melodic singers, wearing long black dresses and tuxedos.  I remember thinking how kind of her … and then I gently placed the e-mail on the back burner of my life.  “Maybe tomorrow.”

Several tomorrows came and went and once in a while I’d imagine a time slot when I could sit back and enjoy the music.  But then that intention would fade away.  Occasionally the concert would return to consciousness and I’d engage in a little self-talk:

Just sit down sometime, Bruce, and listen.  You don’t exactly have a full social agenda, you know

I wonder what kinds of songs they sing.  I bet I’ll like some and not others

C’mon, Bruce … get your rear in gear.  It’s probably just an hour or so

A few more days, and then the unaccomplished would rear its head again.  Then disappear once more.

And now this evening.  I was lying on my bed in the dark, soaking in the quiet and watching the lights of highway traffic do their magic on my bedroom wall.  My smile was interrupted by a jolt of words:

I don’t want to!
I don’t want to listen to the concert

Thoughts of being a bad person followed, along with disappointing my fellow woman.  Of refusing a gift.  Of being shallow, callous and just not nice.  And then, like magic, those thoughts floated away.  It’s no big deal.  I simply don’t want to listen to a concert.  I want to put my energies elsewhere.

I e-mailed my friend to tell the truth.  It would have been braver to phone her but it was okay not to be brave.  With tenderness and truthfulness, I sent my message off into the night.  The smile returned, knowing that other experiences will beckon.

Naturalization

It sounds like a strange word.  It refers to the process of a non-citizen becoming a citizen.  In the US, an applicant needs to take a naturalization test.  Here in Canada, we refer to it as a citizenship test.  I was reading today about some sample questions in the US test, which requires written answers rather than multiple choice responses.

It got me thinking about what’s important when selecting someone to come into the country as a full citizen.  Number one for me is the values of the person, the ethics.  I’d be looking for you-and-me folks rather than me-first ones.  People with empathy and kindness as well as smarts.  I’d also try to sense if the newcomers will contribute to the well-being of my country – with their skills and leadership.  And although formal education is great, it’s overshadowed by wisdom.

Farther down the list for me is knowing a lot of stuff about the new country.  And then what sort of knowledge is important, and what types are irrelevant?

And so to the questions.  Here are three that I like:

What is one reason colonists came to America?  What did people sense about the USA from a distance, such that they wanted to live there?  I feel some good answers are economic opportunity, freedom of religion and escape from persecution.

What is one right or freedom from the First Amendment?  Assuming that the applicant has studied to know which amendment is which, I like these responses: freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, freedom of the press.

Name two ways that Americans can participate in their democracy.  Cool answers include: voting, giving an elected official your opinion on an issue, writing a letter to a newspaper.

These questions point to the soul of America, something that the newcomer needs to deepen into.

And then there are other questions, which I find useless – simple memorizing of facts:

Name three original states of the USA.

How many members does the House of Representatives have?

When was the Declaration of Independence adopted?

What are two Cabinet-level positions?

Name one war fought by the USA in the 1800’s.

Who was President during the Great Depression and World War II?

***

What’s important in citizenship?
What’s important in the home?
What’s important in life?

Power

That’s what I’m feeling tonight. Electricity is surging through me. It’s not a power that could hurt anybody. It simply wants to flow out into the world … to give. It’s bursting out from my body like an explosion. It flies high into the sky and then falls as rain at a great distance.

I’m taller tonight. I can feel it. My spine isn’t a rigid rod. Instead it stretches me far above my expected height. I’m rising … through the ceiling and above the rooftops. A vista of wide open spaces reveals itself ever more widely as I climb, except I’m not doing anything. Some energy is lifting me.

I’m walking into a mist, with a lilt in my step. No hesitation, even though my eyes can’t see the path ahead. I’m reaching into the void, knowing that my fingers will close around something precious.

It feels like my insides are opening, creating space between the muscles, blood vessels and bones. There’s so much room to breathe! And my structures have made way for my heart to see, far beyond the boundary of the skin.

I’m making no sense at all and not caring in the least. It doesn’t matter if you understand. I merely soar. My arms are impossibly long and flow around the planet … embracing.

All is well.

Angry

A few years ago, I sat myself down and moved into self-congratulatory mode:

Well, Bruce, all this meditation and Buddhism seems to have made an impact.  You’re not antagonistic anymore, not angry.  You’re a peaceful, loving fellow who welcomes the world.

Much of that is true, just not the angry part.  I’m angry at the meanness of Donald Trump, the lies, the abandoning of other human beings.  I’m angry at the countless Republicans who say nothing in the face of his witchhunting and his rants about voter fraud.  Whatever happened to morals, and the truth, and speaking out when speaking out is needed?

I get discouraged.  And I ask myself why no one on TV gets angry about this crap when they’re speaking or being interviewed.  Where’s the high decibel outrage?

Which brings us to yesterday, and Gabriel Sterling, the Voting Systems Implementation Manager for Georgia’s Secretary of State office.  Gabriel had had enough.  He stood at a podium in Atlanta.  Two recent events infuriated him.

***

Sterling said his anger boiled over when he learned that a contractor with Dominion Voting Systems helping with the recount effort in suburban Gwinnett County received death threats after someone shot video of him transferring a report to a county computer and falsely said the young man was manipulating election data.

***

A lawyer for President Trump’s re-election campaign said former U.S. cybersecurity official Christopher Krebs should be “shot” for rejecting the President’s claims that the 2020 election was rigged.

During an interview on “The Howie Carr Show”, Joe diGenova outlined a number of baseless accusations around the elections, including that “mail-in balloting is inherently corrupt”.  He then criticized Krebs.

“Anybody who thinks the election went well, like that idiot Krebs who used to be the head of cybersecurity,” diGenova said.  “That guy is a Class A moron.  He should be drawn and quartered.  Taken out at dawn and shot.”

***

Gabriel speaks:

“There’s a noose out there with [the contractor’s] name on it.  That’s not right.  This kid took a job.  He just took a job.”

“Mr. President, you have not condemned these actions or this language.  Senators, you have not condemned this language or these actions.  This has to stop.  We need you to step up, and if you’re going to take a position of leadership, show some.”

“Mr. President, it looks like you likely lost the state of Georgia.  We’re investigating, there’s always a possibility, I get it.  You have the right to go to the courts.  What you don’t have the ability to do – and you need to step up and say this – is stop inspiring people to commit potential acts of violence.  Someone is going to get hurt, someone is going to get shot, someone is going to get killed, and it’s not right.  It’s not right.  This has to stop.  This is elections.  This is the backbone of democracy, and all of you who have not said a damn word are complicit in this.  It’s too much.  Yes, fight for every legal vote.  Go through your due process.  We encourage you.  Use your First Amendment, that’s fine.  Death threats, physical threats, intimidation, it’s not right.”

“Be the bigger man here.  Step in.  Tell your supporters don’t be violent.  Don’t intimidate.  All that is wrong.  It’s un-American.”

Thank you, Gabriel

A Couple of Tips

I love Star Wars.  And I love reading the posts in the What’s On Disney Plus message board.  A few days ago, this showed up:

Admit it!  You’ve tried to use the Force before

Far in the past, Obi-Wan Kenobi told us true: “The Force is what gives a Jedi his power.  It’s an energy field created by all living things.  It surrounds us and penetrates us.  It binds the galaxy together.”  Classic Star Wars quotes about the Force include:

Use the Force, Luke!

Close your eyes.  Feel it.  The light … it’s always been there.  It will guide you

The Force is strong with him

The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force

I felt a great disturbance in the Force … as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced.  I fear something terrible has happened

For my ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is.  Life creates it, makes it grow.  Its energy surrounds us and binds us.  Luminous beings we are, not this crude matter

***

In What’s On Disney Plus, I wondered how my fellow luminous beings would describe their use of the Force.  Here’s a sample:

Every time I’m in an elevator

Every time at automatic doors

I use it at red lights

Every time the remote is across the room

What do you mean, “tried”?

Those first three are modest achievements, speaking of external technology rather than internal fire.  I invite you to experiment with your own luminosity.  It requires two metal clothes hangers.  For years, the apparatus I describe below was propped against the wall of my family room in Union, Ontario.  When I moved to Belmont three years ago, I threw the hangers out.  (Sigh)  I sense that it’s time for a resurrection.  Sadly, I have no metal hangers in my home.  A trip to Walmart seems to be in order.

Here are the instructions:

Cut two metal clothes hangers to create right angles
Hold one half of each hanger vertically, so the other half is horizontal
Hold the two hangers in front of you, parallel to each other
Using your mind, not your hands, move the two tips together

Have fun!

Revealing

The painting by Alex Grey hangs in my family room downstairs. I bow to the two people nearly every day. It feels right to do that.

Is it two lovers? A parent and child? Best friends? I don’t know. The image goes beyond the particular to the universal. We, all of us, are meant to hold each other in such reverence.

But …

Are the noses too close, ignoring the standards of personal space?

Does Alex showing the arteries and veins so intimately reveal bad taste? Surely things need to be well-covered, preferably with skin and clothing.

If the two people really enjoyed each other, shouldn’t they be smiling widely? All we see are gently upturned lips.

Is that the Earth and moon? What they doing there, distracting us?

If they have to hug, why don’t they do it in a normal way? No hand on top of the other’s head.

Finally, the eyes. It’s pretty uncomfortable holding the gaze like that. Right? Not so direct, please. And what’s with the line of light between? Artistic license, I guess.

***

What do you say, friends and neighbours?

Too much?
or
Just about right

A Block Away

My neighbour has died from Covid.  He was a fine fellow in his 40’s, father to three great kids.

So now it’s very real to me.  Although a friend in Belgium has now recovered from the virus, right now is when it really hits home.  We are connected … locally and across this big wide world.  We live in different buildings, or different units in the same apartment building, but we are not separate.  In a physical, emotional and spiritual realm, the space between human beings is alive.  May we be awake to the flows of energy that unite us.

As we’re relatively apart from each other’s bodies in this time of the Coronavirus, we yearn for contact.  We phone, we e-mail, and we Zoom across the miles.  We see each other’s faces in little onscreen rectangles and our souls touch.

We need to keep influencing each other, letting folks know that they’re important, that their existence has contributed to our own.  Because in a flash they could be gone.

What can be created when A and B come together?  Far more than the sum of the parts.  What bonds could magically appear that have the power to make us all smile?  We don’t know … but our embracing the future together may show us.

We are not silos.  The pain in the home down the street is shared by all.  Not the thrusting knife of a father and husband taken from the Earth but still an immense sadness.

I heard a story about a meeting the Dalai Lama was hosting for spiritual teachers from around the world.  A friend of a friend went to that meeting, excited about the prospect of awake people gathering.  “What will be created?” he wondered.  The answer?  Not much.  The flow of spiritual wisdom and experiences from each speaker was immense.  Often the audience could feel the transmission of spirit.  But essentially there was no communion between the speakers.  (Sigh)

We are all connected.  And we need to live that way

From this day forward
For better, for worse
For richer, for poorer
In sickness and in health
To love and to cherish
Till death do us part

The Eye of the Beholder

It was an episode of the black-and-white TV series The Twilight Zone. On November 11, 1960, viewers were presented with a woman lying in a hospital bed, her face covered in bandages. Doctors and nurses came and went, their faces wrapped in shadow, or their bodies turned away from the camera.

“Ever since I was a little girl, people turned away when they looked at me … one little child screaming … I’m used to bandages on my face. I’ve lived my whole life inside a dark cave.”

At the nursing station, the verdict was divided:

“If it were my face, I’d bury myself in a grave someplace.”

“Deeper than that twisted lump of flesh, deeper than that skeletal mask, I’ve seen that woman’s real face, nurse. It’s a good face. It’s a human face.”

On the TV overhead, the nation’s leader is giving a speech:

“Tonight I shall talk to you about glorious conformity … the pleasure of our unified society … We must conform to the norm!”

And now a conversation between doctor and patient:

“We’ll take the bandages off soon, Miss Tyler. You may very well have responded to these last injections … if not, please know that there are many others who share your misfortune … you can’t expect to live any kind of life among normal people … perhaps you’ll move into a special area in which people of your kind have been congregated.”

“You mean segregated!”

Later, the time of reckoning is at hand:

“We’ve done all we could do.”

“If I’m still terribly ugly, could I please be put away?”

“Under certain circumstances, the state provides for the extermination of undesirables.”

The bandages are slowly unwrapped. At the last turn, nurses gasp and cover their eyes. “No change!” Miss Tyler bursts from the room, running down the hall past horrified onlookers.

At the end of it all, Miss Tyler is introduced to Mr. Smith, “a representative of the group you’re going to live with. In a little while, you’ll feel a sense of great belonging.”

***

To help you appreciate this story even more, here are some photos:

The first shows a dedicated doctor and nurse, overwhelmed by the appearance of the patient.

Next is the disfigured Miss Tyler.

Finally, a similar abomination, Mr. Smith, offers Miss Tyler a place amid the untouchables.

Sadness

A Picture Speaks Two Words

A traditional Taoist story:

Once upon the time there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.

“Who knows what is good and what is bad?” the farmer replied.

The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.

“Who knows what is good and what is bad?” replied the old man.

The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.

“Who knows what is good and what is bad?” answered the farmer.

The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.

“Who knows what is good and what is bad?” said the farmer.