On God

"What is it you hope to gain from these pursuits?"


I was asked while strolling in a field, talking about religion, as I am wont to do.


I was stumped. The question, honestly, had never occurred to me. I've been asking about God since I could talk. Why not?


Several times in the last week, I have found myself in long, winding, oddly social conversations about religion.

Usually, I can't articulate a coherent belief system, so I clam up and go back to my reading and thinking and secret moments of quivering revelation.

First there were my roommates, from Israel and China. We spent all of a Tuesday evening talking about Judaism and Christianity and the Chinese exclusion of religion. A couple Bud Lights with Lime (so delicious!), and I found myself arguing for the scholarly evidence to scripture, the leaps of faith we all (even scientists) make, the importance of keeping the baby without the bathwater.

This stuff has sat with me since I was little. No matter where I go, when I hear it again I think, "You're right!"

Then Tamar talks about the exquisite complexity of Judaism, Xianmin the Chinese commitment to country and self-sacrifice ("We don't matter," he says), and I think, "You're right!"


I just finished reading The Bhagavad Gita:

“There is neither this world nor the world beyond nor happiness for the one who doubts.”

"Man is made by his belief. As he believes, so he is."

"Still your mind in me, still yourself in me, and without a doubt you shall be united with me, Lord of Love, dwelling in your heart."

"I desire neither victory nor pleasure nor kingdom, O Krishna. What is the use of the kingdom, or enjoyment, or even life?"

"For those who wish to climb the mountain of spiritual awareness, the path is selfless work. For those who have attained the summit of union with the Lord, the path is stillness and peace."

My heart lets loose, "You're right!"

Then at a rooftop party, beers in our hands (a theme here...?), I ran into a guy who grew up in a Church of Christ, the same type of church I went to. He talked about how Christianity often takes the joy out of faith, creates too much exclusion, focuses on meaningless details. I find myself arguing vehemently that we must focus on the central message of religions, not dismiss them for their problems. I think, "We're both right!"

Eventually, I was able to articulate the glorious cognitive dissonance in my own brain. And the strange joy of living in it.

Revived!

Did the reunion eat me? You may ask. Where have I been? I do not know. One thing I do know: I haven't given up on Robo in Rockville.



Lesson of the day: we have more of an impact than we know. Recently, my coworker and I conducted groups in a local middle school. They were for families who had been separated and reunified--in most of them, parents came to the U.S. first, then brought the kids 2, 5, even 11 years later.

At the end of the groups, we did a field trip to Great Falls National Park. We hiked, grilled, ate enormous Costco cupcakes, made t-shirts, raffled off Subway gift cards. We laughed at me mistakenly calling a "waterfall" a "puddle" (FYI: a waterfall in the Dominican Republic is a puddle in El Salvador: charco. "Look at the giant puddle!" they guffawed), and other glorious moments of cultural integration.

Jason and his big, warm, culturally competent heart joined us. Even without the group leaders around, the families told him how much the groups meant to them. And what struck me most were the T-shirts the kids made at the end:

It says "El Salvador" and "I love my family." The kids each made T-shirts, on their own, displaying pride in their heritage and in their families.

And would it have been worth it, after all,

After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,

Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

Would it have been worth while,

To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

To have squeezed the universe into a ball

To roll it toward some overwhelming question,

To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,

Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—

If one, settling a pillow by her head,

Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.

That is not it, at all.”

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be...

(T.S. Eliot, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock)

I used to live there. That mass of columns, palm trees and sunlight is my alma mater, Pomona College. In a few weeks, I'm going to attend my five-year college reunion. Dun dun DUN!

It was a very formative place to be. Challenge. Friendship. Ideas. Food (oh, the food!). But what does that mean? A room of talented, ambitious people debating male homosocial desire in medieval literature. Anti- and pseudo- and post- and more post-. Discovering coffee. Anglo-American vs. Continential philosophy. Beer. Pink Floyd. Fake snow. Flip-flops. A thesis on Nietzche and Dostoevsky. Have the courage to be offended. T-shirts that said Harvard: the Pomona College of the East.

My thesis advisor once told me, "Sometimes elitism is good. You have to be elitist to be a leader."

Now most of the alumni I know have gone on to higher education or to service fields. And now something in me wants to run the other way from academic ego and ambition. I love having my ideas checked minute-by-minute by the person in front of me, ready to say, "Nope. You've missed it. That is not it, at all."

Need a reminder of the world's goodness?

My niece is here to help!

Bio-psycho-whats-its-name

The more I dabble into psychopharmacology, the more I am convinced by the biology behind mood. Dr. Kramer will even say that many relationship problems can be traced to mood disorders--that a man who falls "out of love" with his wife is actually experiencing depression, or that a woman who leaves her husband for a thrilling new love affair has some form of mania. But the more you do that, the harder it is to trust yourself.

Several years ago, I made an appointment with my old therapist for a "tune-up." I was dismayed. "I had another panic attack," I said as soon as I sat down.

"Well, what was going on when you did? Where were you, what were you doing?" He asked.

"I was on a date, kind of. It was mortifying."

"Tell me about the date."

"We'd only gone out a couple times. I was driving, and we were in a place I don't know very well. We were trying to find a couple of his friends, so we could all go out. I was uncomfortable and I freaked out."

"And what did you do when you freaked out?"

"I took him home and went home."

He paused, and his eyes got wide. "So you were out at night with a guy you don't know very well, in a place you didn't know very well, about to meet up with other strangers. Seems to me that panic attack was the best thing that could have happened to you!"

He gave me a huge gift. He taught me to listen to my feelings and my physical reactions, that they were my friends, that they were sending me important messages and trying to protect me. I never forgot that moment. And I haven't had a panic attack since (knock on wood). It made me feel more whole. I no longer needed to fear the parts of my self that were hard to bear. I could move toward them instead of push them away.

I still want to believe that hard-to-bear stirrings in my heart are there for a reason, and that I should listen to them. I hold to my hope that they carry a deep wisdom, not just a defect. I kind of have to, anyway, or else I'd be out of a job. :)

Please sign this!

Nisgua, an organization that works for human rights in Guatemala, is orchestrating a campaign to put pressure on Guatemala's president Alvaro Colom to work toward justice. There are pivotal genocide cases going on now, as well as thousands of human rights violations awaiting legal proceedings. It really does make a difference for the international community to let Guatemala know we are watching and are ready to take action in support of those who have suffered victimization.

Here is the e-mail with the link Nisgua sent me:

Support Guatemalan war survivors’ right to justice! This is the FINAL PUSH for NISGUA’s action! We are calling on President Colom to ensure that the victims of the armed conflict achieve justice for the crimes committed against them.

http://nisgua.org/get_involved/action_alerts/action_alert_colom.asp

We are moving to turn in these letters in the upcoming days. Please sign on, re-send it to your friends, family and networks, post it to your social networking sites. Get everyone you know to click this link and sign! http://nisgua.org/get_involved/action_alerts/action_alert_colom.asp

It's moments like this we all work so hard for -- holding the government accountable, supporting the communities and organizations we work with on the ground, demanding justice.

Click here to make sure your letter is in the stack we will be handing in to the President's office!

Thanks your ongoing support of NISGUA and the struggle for justice in Guatemala!

A Meditation from Ti Harmony

I wrote Ti Harmony and asked him if he had any yoga classes recorded. In his benevolence, he sent me three on a CD. I wish I could express my bliss.

I thought I'd pass along a meditation that begins one of the classes. I love his meditations.

*********************************************************************************

We'll meditate for a little bit.

Take a few conscious, deep breaths. Move your body if you need to, so you can feel as comfortable as possible.

Relax any unnecessary tensions.

Let go of what you were doing earlier.

And let go of what you think you might do later.

And then take a very long deep breath in, and hold the breath in for a moment.

As you're ready, exhale quietly and let your attention then drift down. Start to feel the floor and your body's contact with it.

Really feel the floor.

And breathe out.

As you're breathing in, then letting your attention draw up the spine.

Bring the attention up the spine all the way to the very top center of the head.

What's the space above your head feel like?

Can you stretch your feeling sense into the space above your head?

As you're ready, take a long deep breath in. When you exhale, without closing the top of your head, let your attention now drift down into and throughout, eventually, your whole body and being.

How does it feel being you right now? (long pause)

You might start to open yourself to something greater. (long pause)

Take a long, deep breath in and out.

Get clear for yourself what is your intention for the rest of your time here.

Again take a deep breath in, and as you're ready breathe back out.

I bow to the light inside you. Namaste.