In the woods, Fate and Red play hide-and-seek. Red usually hides and Fate flushes him out. Fate covers a lot of ground and seem to intuitively know where Red is hiding. Red doesn’t hide himself all that well, unless he is hiding behind a tree.
He is game but not really clever. When Fate gets close, Red pops up to challenge her. Mostly, he loses.
Some years ago, I undertook what I called my “Civility Project,” an effort to make occasional contact with people who send hostile messages that are so often angry or self-righteous or cruel. Anyone who writes or works online understands that this is a part of having a blog or being on social media.
I accept it along with the messages of praise and affection I also receive, and in far greater numbers.
There is something in some people who brings out the worst in them when they can send anonymous or distant messages to people they do not know. My purpose in writing about them from time to time is not to punish them or argue with them, but to raise the issue of civility, which I have been talking about for years.
One a month or so, I answer these messages and try to make some human contact, establish a connection beyond anger and righteousness. I find sometimes than when the people who send these messages come to understand that a human being just them is receiving them, a curtain lifts and they either apologize or explain themselves in a civil way.
I consider those moments of connection a victory in my long advocacy of community, even online, and with people I will never meet or know. Some have suggested this is a hopeless task, scolded me for not just shutting up and deleting them. But the dialogue is important to me, every real connection is another beam of light in a sometimes dark world.
I am advocate for civility, the public places of the Internet are cesspools, a dire threat to free speech and open communications.
Last week, I wrote a column about the presidential campaign and in the blog, I misspelled Hillary Clinton’s name, I used one “l” instead of two. I spotted the mistake immediately and added the extra “l.” When I update or correct errors on the blog, they don’t automatically go through to Facebook, some of them remain, so the proofreading and corrections I often do – sometimes there is no time – do not always appear on social media.
I’m not sure I knew how to spell Hillary’s name correctly in every instance, since I have hardly ever mentioned her name here, and it is so easy to skip that extra “l” when typing fast, but my auto correct problem spotted the error and alerted me to it. It was not, in my mind a big deal, and the mistake was instantly corrected.
I didn’t hear a thing about it.
Yesterday, I got an e-mail from someone named Ingrid B—, under the heading “Come on, get it right.” It was an instant candidate for my Civility Project.
“It’s HilLary Clinton. HILLARY, with two ells. And while you’re at it, ” Ingrid added, “You can write to Maria and ME…” (I’m not sure which piece that referred to).
She added: “You call yourself a writer. Write right. Please. Sincerly, Ingrid, who’s appalled that anyone in Ameriica with a normal IQ Would not know how to spell Hillary Clinton’s name by now.”
I will confess to the fact that there is a Donald Trump gene lurking somewhere inside of my consciousness, I sometimes reply to messages best ignored. There used to be many more before life and therapy brought me to a better consciousness and awakening. And watching Donald Trump set himself on fire day after day has inspired me to continue to work on my own anger issues.
Before my fingers could communicate with my brain (or my own Civility Project) I fired back a message which said, “Dear Ingrid, get lost.” Then I smacked myself on the head. What kind of Civility Project is this? What about the idea of making a human connection?
Many of you know by now, that I have severe authority problems, I was always a horrible student, I drove my teachers crazy. I imagine these days I would be tested frequently for learning disabilities, probably put on medication. My blog has saved me.
Ingrid B wrote back: “Thanks for that quality response, Jon. I will share it on my Facebook page. Ingrid.”
So this got me to thinking. I do not react well to people suggesting I am stupid, and I react even more poorly to people who threaten me with exposure on their Facebook Page when they have sent obnoxious or rude messages. I am never afraid of openness, as you can see here. I promised to be open about my life, and one is either open or not.
One of the great things about my life on the blog is that I am almost completely transparent. Like Zen masters, I have no secrets, you can’t say a thing about me that I have not said or written about myself. I do not equate good grammar with good writing, writers need editors and my blog is and will always be my own creation. That’s just the way it is.
I do a lot of foolish things, but I do not lie or misrepresent myself. But I also realized that this was an opportunity to transcend this kind of communicating and see if there was a part of Ingrid that I could reach. The fact that she cares about spelling, even if I don’t, suggests she has some values. The fact that she would write such a snotty letter suggests she needs a few more.
Okay, I answered: “Please do share this exchange on your Facebook Page and please share this more measured response as well. You may be a person who never makes a mistake but I am a person who makes many and admits them freely. Your message was, to me, obnoxious and rude, a symptom of the toxic disease raging across public discourse and politics in America. You could easily have made your point in a civil way, an I would have thanked you for pointing it out, but you choose instead to be a jerk.”
I said it was disturbing that anyone with a normal IQ in America could not communicate in a better or more polite way. What, I asked, if I did have a lower than average IQ, as many of my English and math teachers had suggested to me? Would you still send the same kind of message. (Maybe she was one of my English teachers, poor thing…living out her final years in some nursing home, harboring her now ancient grudges against me and my spelling.)
I don’t always succeed in being patient, I said, but I strive to avoid the nasty online thing. I don’t want to waste whatever intelligence I have on nasty quarrels over the Internet or arguments about my writing. Or proof reading more and writing less.
Ingrid tried one more time and suggested – quite huffily – that I hire someone to proofread my blog. I said I would be happy to consider that (not true, really) if she would pay for it. I know from personal experience that asking someone to pay for the things they demand that I do was the best way ever to quiet them, they never write back after that.
It was a way of saying goodbye to Ingrid, if you don’t make the connection quickly, you will not make it all and some people love to fight all day. I do not.
Ingrid did not reply, and that suggested to me that she was at least thinking about our dialogue, but of course I will never know. I will never hear from her again.
My Civility Project is a continuing work for me, it is for me as well as others. I have made great strides, I have more work to do. I think the real purpose of the project is to help me learn to be more patient, strong and civil. I know I will have many chances in my work to improve. The gift of snarky messages is that they will either devour one or you will learn to rise above them.
Take care, Ingrid, whoever you are and wherever you are. My wish for you is that you understand that mistakes are a part of life, the tone of your letter was one mistake. Helping people to see mistakes can be a gift, ridiculing them for it is a human failing. I hope you do print this exchange on your Facebook Page, people need to think about it. A lot.
I met Bernie Glassman for the first time yesterday, I was not certain what to expect.
Glassman, who is 77, lives in the Berkshires in Massachusetts with his wife Eve Marko, a friend, author, social activist and Zen teacher. Glassman is a world reknowned leader and teacher in the Zen movement, he is a Zen master, an author, a social activist and businessman. He is a co-founder of the Zen Peacemakers.
We came to Massachusetts to visit Eve and to meet Bernie, who suffered a severe stroke six months ago that left him partially paralyzed on his right side and unable to speak clearly or remember. His condition has clearly improved dramatically. He is walking with the help of a cane, speaking clearly and well, his mind seemed clear and perceptive to me. He is working hard every day to recover.
Maria and I spent a couple of hours talking to Bernie, we were both deeply touched by his courage, spirituality and love of creativity. Creativity, he said, is profoundly spiritual, and both creativity and spirituality, we both agreed, are about change.
At first, Bernie said, he hoped to die so that he would not be a burden on others, but I see from the gleam in his eye and strength that he is working hard to fully recover. “At first,” he said, “I didn’t recognize myself.”
He and Eve both said that Bernie was always focused and never emotional, the stroke changed that. They are both getting to know the new Bernie Glassman, he says he is in the midst of a rebirth.
When he is speaking, it was quite easy to forget about the stroke. I saw he has some difficulty balancing himself while walking, some difficulty moving his right hand fluidly. Otherwise, there was not much to suggest his trauma, or his initial inability to speak or walk at all.
He says he falls from time to time, and that will happen as he works hard at his recovery and challenges himself.
It is difficult for me to imagine how difficult and painful this experience has been for both of them, world travelers, activists, writers and teachers. In a sense, the transformation is just as difficult for Eve as for Bernie. In some ways, she said, the man she lived with disappeared that night six months ago and gave rebirth to himself.
His dog Stanley, who Eve calls the “Great Obstructor” is forever at his side.
Bernie says the experience has taken him to new places, some of them extraordinarily difficult, some of them powerful and mesmerizing. I strongly connected with him, I am inviting him to come stay with us at the farm. He is seen almost daily by therapists and trainers, I don’t know if such a trip is possible.
But I believe the farm would be both stimulating and healing for him. I would be happy to help care for him.
In a sense, Bernie is living out the fear of so many people as they age, at first, it was unclear if he would even be able to swallow. Six months ago, it would have been impossible for him to sit for two hours and talk to two total strangers so openly and articulately.
I asked him if he would mind my taking his portrait, he smiled and said “we have no secrets.” I think he ought to start his own blog as soon as he can. That is my motto.
Zen Masters are revered and unapproachable figures in many ways, they are given enormous respect in their communities.
Bernie Glassman seemed so humble and approachable to me if he had not tired, I’d be happy to still be sitting in his kitchen, talking to him and Eve.
Maria said she felt the same way.
It is humbling to be in the presence of such strength and humility, I cannot but believe it will carry him far in his healing. We made a strong connection, I hope he can come and visit us at the farm one day, and I am grateful for his portrait and his time. He is a good man and a deeply spiritual one. He is also a brave and creative person.
And I love the humor that is never long missing from his eyes.
“The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.” – Nicholas Chamfort
Spirituality is the process by which a person seeks meaning and fulfillment.
We live by our own bliss, we are called to a life of purpose and fulfillment. When we fail to answer the call, we descend into hollowness, anger and conflict. Every day we see the consequences of a kind of hollowness, our new national purpose – making money and boosting corporate profits and protecting the lives and fortunes of the wealthy – is an empty vessel which many are filling with rage, contempt and divisiveness.
Spiritual people do not advocate hatred and cruelty, they are the very antithesis of that. Jesus, Gandhi, Dr. King, Muhammad, the Dalai Lama and Nelson Mandela have all told us, again and again to be merciful and just.
See the awful cost when they are ignored. Yesterday, I wrote about a powerful new book called Tribe, and the search for community, a timely book for sure.
We live a spiritual life by seeking to be better, to be good, to be fulfilled. I am not a Bible follower, but I am drawn to the idea that when we fail in our spiritual life, we open the door to the Devil and his legions. If you read the news, the door is wide open, the Devil and his Army are marching through.
The idea was that national elections would be a celebration of democracy, a vigorous, loud and spirited debate and discussion about the future of our country, after which we will all rally around a new leader and get on with living our free lives, which we always believed were superior to any lives in the world.
This year, many are deeply disturbed by the hatred and fear, ignorance and bigotry that seem to be pulling us apart every day. It is easy enough to blame Donald Trump for this, he is in fact a sorry wreck of a human being, I feel badly about him, more and more each day.
But to me, it is more complex than that, he is a symptom, not the disease. He grows where we fail, he shines when spirituality dims, when leaders cower and hide. As religion has declined, our national faith has become the blind pursuit of money and an epidemic of almost unfathomable unfairness and greed. In that vacuum, Trump or something like him will always grow. How could it now, and why are we surprised?
We have lost our spiritual lamps, ignored our guides, left countless millions behind.
I think hatred rises when spirituality fails, our better angels seem to be in hiding, driven to the edges of life, ignored and pushed aside in favor the broken, the angry and the left behind. And the rich and powerful.
For me, this is a gift. It reminds me to pursue my spiritual life more vigorously, my reading, my meditation, my connection with nature, my love for people, my life with animals, my writing, my photography, my own sense of justice and compassion, my own teaching and sharing what I have learned while I can.
A spiritual life has never had more meaning for me than it does now, I believe a spiritual revolution is coming. I prefer not to whine about the sorry state of affairs, but to make sure my own affairs are in order.
Every burst of hatred sparks me to work harder, dig deeper, do more good, take brighter photographs, lift people up with words. That is perhaps the most powerful political statement anyone can make, and I don’t need to argue it with anyone, it takes place inside of me.
“What we are asked to do is love,” wrote Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk and author, “and this love itself will render ourselves and our neighbors worthy if anything can.”
Last week, Maria was invited to go to India in February and teach rescued and struggling former sex workers and slaves how to make her wonderful, simple and beautiful potholders. Of course I want to go, she said. And she will go.
This is what it is about, really, not yelling at each other, sending nasty e-mails to people, hating those who feel differently. Answering the call to touch the life of another human being.
We will have to work hard to raise a lot of money for her to go, but the idea of her teaching these brave women and their children how to make her now iconic potholders so they can make a living and build a new life speaks to me of what spirituality and a spiritual life is all about.
By now, it is clear that we shall live in community or perish alone and in our own angry little mobs. It would be so much easier if the people who purport to lead us would show us the way. I will do it without them.
Maria is following her bliss, she is answering the call, she is stepping out of her life to cross the world and do good and remind us what it means to be a human being. Plato wrote that every human being wants community more than anything else. Hers is an intensely political act, it is the point of the spiritual life – fulfilling herself, helping others.
One at a time, we do what we can do. We do the best that we can for as long as we can.
We don’t have to follow our leaders when they teach us to hate and fear.
The rich and the powerful may be tearing our sense of community apart to advance their own power and ambition, but we don’t have to follow that call.
We can reject it and turn back towards a spiritual life, from which has come the best of being human – a search for peace, justice, reconciliation and forgiveness, and the ability to empathize and build the community and sense of common purpose we all seek and need.
Argument is the fool’s idea of wisdom, answers can only come from listening, learning and understanding.
Spirituality teaches us to live in harmony, to take what we need, to care for the poor, to advance equality, to preach compassion and empathy. We love to quote Jesus and exploit his name, very few people are faithful to his message. For now, spirituality has been banished from our political process, but they can’t take it away from us.
Time for another revolution, a spiritual one. We need to get our lives back.
A spiritual life and a search for spirituality may be the most important vote anyone of us can take.
