Untie the Boat

When we first brought one of our teachers to the States, we asked him what he thought of the American dharma scene. We had started these different centers and were very proud of what had happened. He said that he thought it was wonderful but that sometimes American practitioners reminded him of people sitting in a boat rowing very strenuously, with great sincerity and effort, but refusing to untie the boat from the dock. He said we reminded him of that in our fixation on transcendental experiences to the neglect of a sweeping view of how we're behaving day to day, how we're speaking to our family members, how we're taking care of one another, or whatever. That's why I think it is tremendously important to continually open and expand our understanding of where freedom is and where the dharma lies.

- Sharon Salzberg, "The Dharma of Liberation," from the Spring 1993 Tricycle. Read the complete article.

http://www.tricycle.com/special-section/the-dharma-liberation-an-interview-with-sharon-salzberg

October 23, 2009
Tricycle's Daily Dharma

Being a Buddhist Police Officer

For thirteen years I was a law enforcement officer. In the dark humor of that environment, we called ourselves “paid killers for the country.” No one else wanted to be in out boots. I did not identify myself as a Buddhist; I was not aware that the way I behaved and experienced the world fit squarely with the Buddha's teachings. It is clear to me now that we could have been, and were, instruments of karma. But skillful action, discriminating awareness, karma, the law of causality were not terms in law enforcement basic training.

For a Buddhist in police work, the most important thing is to be constantly aware of ego. It is not your anger, not your revenge, not your judgment, no matter how personal the event. I was paid and trained to take spirit-bruising abuse. I endured things of which the majority of women in America will never even dream. For me it was not judgment, in the Western sense, but discernment. This kept me, and others, alive and healthy. This discernment allowed me to act skillfully in crisis. The law of causality allowed me to know that if I could not stop the perpetrator of violence or pain or loss, that some other vehicle would reach that person—karma.

- Laurel Graham, from “Vajra Gun,” Tricycle, Winter 1998

1. Springtime in Boston is like springtime on Long Island Sound, but more dramatic. More like La Boheme and less like... um... a Synge play?
2. I slathered on the sunscreen and brought my sunhat.
3. I've made the decision to lose weight. I've already begun the process. It's scaring the crap out of me, but the prospect of ending up with Type 2 diabetes and/or not being able to reach my arm across extraneous body parts is even less appealing than misguided compliments and unwanted male attention.
4. In an effort to make good on my New Year's resolution to increase my creative expression, I'm doing a monthly poetry salon. The date keeps changing. Right now, I'm looking at Sunday the 24th. There will be whole-leaf tea and cucumber sandwiches. Bring some poetry you like or some of your own. Woman-friendly space.
5. It's not Sunday the 17th because I've decided to go to Kripalu that weekend.
6. I don't like budgets. Not for money and not for things. Coloring outside the lines, including the lines of my five-things list.

1. Mom, while visiting me (paraphrased): "When you came into my life, it was like the sun rising inside of me. I was so depressed, and then there was little sun growing in my belly, and it came out and it was you, bringing this joy into my life."


2. The doctor who's been treating my chronic illness since the turn of the century: "I just feel that you're going to do well. I'll put my money on you."

mellowtron

• A flock of wild turkeys in the lovely woods where I walk at lunchtime.
  
• A raven perched on the top of my office building
  
• The dessicated, decomposed corpse of a squirrel
  
• The fresh corpse of a starling
  
• Lots of hairless primates
  
• My sweet kitty (this morning, fuzzy alarm clock)
  

• While walking from my car to the office this morning, I saw what appeared to be an insurance appraiser checking out someone's car with a clipboard computer. His little Nissan was parked off to the side, engine running.
  
• My walking buddy at work routinely throws away plastic recyclable water bottles.
  
• I had dinner with my ex last night, who told me she "threw away" 40 bags of paper. "You mean you recycled it, right?" I inquired. She looked at me and replied, "It was recycled. It was shredded." But I lived with her for five years. I'm sure she threw it out on the sidewalk with the rest of the trash.
  
• Some dumb fucker keeps dropping his styrofoam Dunkin' Donuts cup in my recycling bin.
  
• Canvas shopping bags are becoming more and more prevalent, but a ridiculous number of people seem to be obsessed with enhancing the under-sink disposable-grocery bag population.
  
• Every day, my coworkers use paper cups and throw them away when they could bring in a ceramic one and reuse it once. Yeah, I read that study about the energy costs of reusable vs recyclable, but it fails to take into account issues around landfill and litter.
  

1. Good news for la_directora: As evidence of a major shift in Spain's attitude toward animal rights and violence, Spain's state-run TV service has decided to stop showing bullfights at times when children might be watching. I wonder if they allow lesbian kisses? Full story from The World here. Scroll down to "Spanish TV cancels bullfight coverage"


2. The Goddess is alive and magic is afoot. Evidence of older, female-centered rituals exist in the Islamic tradition, too. The description of Zar (or Zaar) music in the last segment of the same show listed above sounds awfully familiar. It's led by women, it builds to a fever pitch or trance, it has healing qualities, it's designed to get the participants in touch with their own spirit, or the spirits, or The Spirit. It's familiar because it's the same thing I've been doing in ritual here in the US for well over ten years. It's also similar to what I know of Sufi ritual.
   
   A Google search on the topic turns up mixed results. These are three I found interesting:
   
   
   • Arabic writings on Zar (PDF) A scholarly bibliography of a number of sources. Useful if you'd like to do some library research.
   
   
   • Chapter Twelve of The Influence of Animism on Islam. The Christian/modern patriarchal bias (they liken the ritual to Black Mass) makes me squicked, but if you can read past it you may actually find accurate details.
   • Homosexuality in "Traditional" Sub-Saharan Africa and Contemporary South Africa I find it interesting that zar appears to be linked to homosexuality. Well, it is female-centered, so men who participate must be gender-suspect. Funny how humans constantly conflate gender identity with sexual orientation.
   
   


3. Okay, so I really dug last night's show of the The World. There was a great story on women in combat in Iraq. The segment includes excellent interviews with a number of female soldiers profiled in Band of Sisters, a book written by journalist Kirsten Holmstedt about women in combat situation. Military law still states that women cannot fight "in combat," but as Holmstedt notes, "in Iraq, the front lines are everywhere--and everywhere in Iraq women in the U.S. military fight."
   



4. Daily Dharma quote about right livelihood:
   

   
   Right Livelihood Today
   Right Livelihood appears to be harder to practice these days than in
   the time of the Buddha. The rule is still the same: Right Livelihood
   is organizing one's financial support so that it is nonabusive,
   nonexploitive, nonharming. However, these days what is abusive and
   exploitive is not necessarily self-evident. When the Buddha taught,
   unwholesome livelihood categories were easy to distinguish.
   Soldiering, keeping slaves, manufacturing weapons and intoxicants--all
   were on the proscribed list. In our time, soldiers sometimes serve as
   peacekeepers. It's hard to know the wholesomeness of all the products
   of any corporation, corporate mergers being what they are. Who knows
   what else is being manufactured by my detergent company's
   subsidiaries? . . . For me, a complete picture of wholesome Right
   Livelihood is even larger than the proscriptions that reflect external
   choices. Wholesome internal choices--healthy attitudes about one's
   work--also contribute to mental happiness and peace of mind.
   Everyone's livelihood is an opportunity for self-esteem.
   -Sylvia Boorstein, It's Easier Than You Think
   from Everyday Mind, edited by Jean Smith, a Tricycle book
   http://www.tricycle.com/issues/2_478/dailydharma/4044-1.html
   

   
   This is a question I struggle with quite a good deal. Anyone who saves for retirement by investing in mutual funds may inadvertently be funding a company that participates in icky things like warmongering or child labor. I've looked into the new lines of "socially responsible" investment funds, but find that their rate of return is less than stellar. And one still needs to wonder about who decides what company is socially responsible. They tend to be heavy on the tech stocks, which leads to extra volatility.
   
   Right livelihood is why I refused a gig at Raytheon, a defense contractor and pretty big employer here in the Boston area. But defense contractors often come up with new technologies that substantially improve one's quality of life--and I'm not just talking Tang. My second-generation-immigrant grandfather spent his life working at Lockheed, which makes both passenger aircraft and war planes.
   
   Boorstein's notion of "wholesome internal choices" is helpful. And one must be centered and well to do good effectively in the world. But it's also easy to become complacent and believe that living well and taking care of oneself is enough. It's not.
   
   



5. I received some feedback recently regarding my communication style, which was described as "abrasive." While opportunities for self-improvement abound, I find myself caught in the same conundrum many women in business face. Early on in my career, a friend of mine suggested I read a book called Hardball for Women, which did an excellent job at helping me adapt to a culture that was originally made for men, by men, and about men--I'm talking about the business world. It helped me to understand the different ways that men and women communicate, and I began to modify my communication style as a result. But here's where the dilemma sets in: they see my tits. So they expect different things from me than they would of someone with no tits (or man-boobs). A man expresses anger or impatience, he's seen as powerful or important. A woman expresses anger or impatience, she's seen as out of control or moody. And God forbid you mention these different expectations in the actual business world! That's playing the gender card!
   
   The tightrope, the challenge, the opportunity for personal growth (or AFGO, as they call it in some circles), is this: to appear competent, powerful, in control, while still personable and approachable. It's fun, kids! Now you try!
   
   

1. The dating saga continues. I met a very nice guy on OKCupid (shout outs to la_directora's friend who reminded me about this aweseome site) and am a little silly about him right now. He's the polar opposite of Axis of Evil guy, big and cuddly and sweet. The danger with him lies not in wasting my time and efforts on someone who won't appreciate it, but on falling into a little fantasy world where only the two of us exist. I also had plans to hang out with a really neat lady I met on Craigslist today, but had to cancel due to...
   
2. My being sickies. The body reminds me that it needs a little bit more downtime than I have been giving it by first letting the candidiasis come back with a vengeance and then coming down with your garden-variety viral infection. Lung-hacking ensues.
   
3. The doctor said I could still go to the beach trip the Women's Circle has been planning since last September. I'm so glad I did. We had a tremendous turnout of new members last October during our open circle and it's a lovely thing to see how we've all gelled into a true sisterhood. I've had mixed feelings about my membership in the circle -- and in First Parish -- this year. The feelings were partly because of my breakup with technogoddesss, who first dragged me there back in 2004 (I'd known about it, been invited to it, but had never been able to get myself to go on a Friday night or a Saturday morning), and partly because of the more active leadership roles I'd been taking with the church. Religious organizations are a strange hybrid: we come to them for the purpose of beloved community and to deepen our connection to God/Goddess/The Universe/foo. But we're still human beings with all of our flaws and pimples. So a church is both beloved community and extremely irritating, just like any other family. When my chronic illness got really bad in December and January, I was touched and even a little surprised at the outpouring of love and support I received from members of First Parish. I really shouldn't have been, though, since it's not the first time that community has saved my life.
   
   In news unrelated to either my viral infection or my chronic illness, my doctors and I discovered some precancerous lesions and have been watching them since January. I may end up having to have the damn things removed with surgery but am hoping that they'll "spontaneously resolve" (i.e. "go away on their own"). Everyone around me seems to be having issues with cancer or tumors these days. In fact, another member of the women's circle has just been diagnosed with endometrial cancer and is grieving the fact that they're going to have to remove basically all of her internal girl parts. She'll go into menopause immediately after surgery since hormones can bring the cancer back. This is an absolutely gorgeous, curvy, feminine woman only a few years older than me. We did some healing work for her in the circle, and then they did some on me. It was powerful and humbling to be both part of the healing work and the recipient of same.
   
   Our minister of religious education, a lesbian whom I respect and admire and whose daughter I mentored in this year's Coming of Age program, also just had a tumor removed from her chest. This surgery coincides with her rather sudden departure from the parish to a position with the UUA that opens up about once every 20 years. UU tradition precludes ministers and former parishioners from contacting one another for two years after they leave a position. More sad, although I am happy for her and this new opportunity.
   
4. I am officially on vacation. It's my first full week of paid vacation since going back to work for The Man, and my first paid vacation since 2002. I'm psyched. The brother and niece are arriving at the Boston airport the morning of July 4. Fiona's probably going to be tired and cranky after a red-eye flight. Mom is coming up tomorrow evening; it'll be great to have the Donovan clan together again. Later in the week we're all heading to NYC to join sister-in-law. There's a wedding or something. And I get to see la_directora! And Romeo and Juliet in the Park! And meet sofiztikated Newww Yooork City director-lady friends of la_directora's. Squeeing will ensue.
   
5. The fifth act has been canceled due to budgetary constraints.
   

• 80 degrees and sunny is too hot.
  
• I need to find a pair of wide, palazzo-style, linen pants that fit without doing the sausage-casing-thigh, slightly-too-tight-waistband, gaping-vagina-pocket thing.
  
• I lost eight pounds since I joined a gym less than a month ago.
  
• I upped my chest press weight to 20lbs for the second time today. Still working on form with the higher weight.
  
• Sea Legs by The Shins (Wincing the Night Away) is my song du jour. Or de semaine. If I were still in college I would totally write a paper explicating the lyrics and what they have to say about the insanity of falling in love.
  
• I'm totally boy-crazy. I wish it would stop. But not really.
  
• The latch mechanism on my hood finally gave up the ghost. The nice Russian man who inspected my car (even lubed up my squeaky driver-side door!) told me about a junkyard in, I think, Waltham, where I can get a new one. 128 Garage on Green Street. I can't find the phone number anywhere.
  
• I like pizza.