I have become disillusioned with politics as a vehicle for change.
The pendulum swing from one party's policies to the other is constant and self-negating. As soon as one party gains power, changes made are swiftly undone, and those undone changes will be re-done when the other party re-gains power. It's a circle. It's an ouroboros, but not a cool one that you see tattooed on a hot person. It's chaotic and ultimately accomplishes nothing.
Adin Strauss, the General Director of the Soka Gakkai International USA (SGI-USA), a Buddhist organization, held a virtual lecture August 13th. In response to a question in the Q&A, Strauss said that what’s urgent is not more political action but rather the transformation of the life state of the humans who make up this country and this world.
Transforming the life state of people can be accomplished through dialogue. Daisaku Ikeda, president of the SGI, is passionate about dialogue as a vehicle for change. Through dialogue, we can achieve a human revolution. In my understanding, the human revolution that we SGI Buddhists talk about is the cumulative effect of individual humans who feel supported, heard, and respected, and go on to show compassion, support, and respect to their fellow human beings. Each human being, after all, has inherent dignity. Humans have the ability to change and to constantly strive for self-improvement. And we should all probably take a long, hard look at ourselves and see what is not serving us and what we should sacrifice for the wellbeing of others.
Joanna Macy, in her wonderful books World as Lover, World as Self and Active Hope, speaks of two weapons that are needed to combat the evil of the world. The weapons are not items that cause bodily damage and destruction. Rather, they are things we can all cultivate: compassion and insight of our interbeing. Many years ago, a friend in India told Joanna about these weapons, which are the solutions to strife in the ancient Shambhala warrior prophecy:
“Now is the time the Shambhala warriors go into training. They train in the use of two implements. One is compassion and the other is insight into the radical interdependence of all phenomena. You need both. You need the compassion because that provides the fuel to move you out where you need to be to do what you need to do. That means not being afraid of the suffering of your world. When you’re not afraid to be with that pain, then nothing can stop you. You can be and do what you’re meant to. But by itself that implement is very hot – it can burn you out. So you need that other tool – you need the insight into the radical interconnectivity at the heart of existence, the web of life, our deep ecology. When you have that, then you know that this is not a battle between good guys and bad guys. You know that the line between good and evil runs through the landscape of every human heart. And you know that we are so interwoven in the web of life that even the smallest act, with clear intention, has repercussions through the whole web beyond your capacity to see. But that’s a little cool; maybe even a little abstract. You need the heat of the compassion – the interplay between compassion and wisdom.”
"Compassion and interbeing" has become a mantra for me when I am faced with having a difficult conversation with someone I disagree with. It is a reminder that the other person is another version of me, saddled with difficulties and challenges, just trying to make it through life. People have good reasons for doing what they do— we are all excellent at justifying our own actions. And so, the person in front of me has good reasons for believing what they believe. They are my sister or brother or sibling. They are a fellow Earthling. Can I get out of my own head and put that sentiment foremost? Can I disagree with them and also love and respect them? Carl Sagan said, “If a human disagrees with you, let him live. In a hundred billion galaxies, you will not find another.”
After a SGI discussion meeting or reading a Joanna Macy book, it is easy for me to feel confident about my ability to plunge into a difficult conversation and listen to another person with deep respect for them and their opinion. However, more often than not during such a conversation, I feel not the fire of compassion but instead the fire of anger and impatience. Conversations with family members who deny the reality and seriousness of climate change come to mind. I can enter their homes full of resolve to have a productive conversation in which I share facts with compassion, but I usually end up leaving drained and frustrated from my inability to get any minds to change. Their stubbornness undermines my ability to feel compassion for them in those moments.
Anger and impatience stem from my lesser self. They are a product of ego and the desire to prove not only my worthiness, but my superiority. The desire to change someone's mind also originates in ego. My greater self recognizes anger and impatience for what they are and does not wish to cultivate them.
Beliefs are deeply rooted and become cherished, integral parts of our self-identities. People tend to fiercely guard their beliefs, and when they are challenged, a shield of rejection is raised. We simply don't want to hear opposing viewpoints or even facts to erode our cherished beliefs for fear that the foundation we have built ourselves on will crumble. But what if we could understand that our beliefs should not be our foundation? Our obligations to each other should be our foundation. Without respect for one another, without hearing each other out, without having compassion for our neighbors, we don't have a civilized society. We will be quick to destroy each other if we are not willing to listen to one another.
It is not easy. It will take time. It will take patience. But it is a challenge worth undertaking. Can we love our crooked neighbors with our crooked hearts? Can I recognize that my conservative uncle has his head up his ass, but he is not unreachable? There is a darkness in the human heart that is uncomfortable to acknowledge— a part that needs healing. It exists in all of us. What if we treated earnest, compassionate, yet difficult dialogue not as a chore, but as an opportunity to practice the one thing that will ensure the continuation of our species?
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