My last post asked the question, “Who is a guest?” At the Golden Temple this question is answered every day. The least among us are treated like royalty. DH writes,
“I ate lunches there, and washed dishes and even helped cook some of the stuff, about 5 times… Quite an experience, very much like the pics show. The one thing about Golden Temple: It is CROWDED beyond anything Americans or Westerners EVER feel comfy with. You get about 15 cubic inches of space <G>… The picture of the kid sleeping is quite peaceful, but when I was there, there would have been another 15 folks sitting, sleeping and otherwise occupying the space in the picture… And yeah, the kid would have been asleep unbothered right in the middle of that :)))”
This is the vision. See for yourself. Take a virtual visit to the The Golden Temple.
This year has been a practice in living with less, living more simply and simple living. To that end I have resolved not to purchase new clothing, to use what I have and to pass along clothing I don’t use.
When so many have so little, how much is enough? I have lightened my load. Still, there is always more to cull through. Nevertheless, the clothes I have now seem to work well, work together and fit my lifestyle. Everything fits easily into my closet, but how much is enough? How much is too much?
In Minnesota we layer clothing. Therefore, my wardrobe consists mainly of T-shirts, a few shirts and sweaters. Everything can be layered. Take a look –
The left side of the closet holds yoga pants, slacks and jeans. Summer curtains are stored on the shelf above.
Overhead, on the right, a few sweaters and cotton turtlenecks are stacked on the shelf. How much is enough?
A chest of drawers holds underwear, PJ’s, socks, scarves and seasonal items like swimsuits and flannel-lined jeans (yes, I actually use/need them on super cold days). Is this too much?
Meanwhile, the process of evaluating what I actually need vs. what I actually have continues. Hopefully, yet more items will be passed along to others who need them. And then I will have enough.
Ever wonder what Native Americans think about the Fourth of July? It is a reminder of genocide from their point of view. Who were the savages?
Europeans came and took what did not belong to them. As someone of European descent, I continue to benefit from this today.
White privilege refers to benefits that I receive that I do not earn. I receive them by virtue of my skin color. To get a better understanding of how I benefit everyday day of my life from having the skin color I do (“white”) read Peggy McIntosh’s famous essay on white privilege: “Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack“.
My advantages are not “blessings” – they are unearned benefits of belonging to a particular class and skin color. I did not pull myself up by my bootstraps. Rather our “bootstraps” are unearned benefits inherited from prior generations. For example:
If both your parents spoke English add one inch to your bootstraps.
If you didn’t need to worry about when you would eat next, add one inch to your bootstraps.
If your parents were college educated add one inch to your bootstraps.
If no one in your household had a serious medical illness add one inch to your bootstraps.
If you didn’t move frequently in order for your parents to work add one inch to your bootstraps.
If you had access to good nutrition and good medical care growing up, add one inch to your bootstraps.
If your parents were of a class, religion or skin color that allowed them to buy property or own a home, add one inch to your bootstraps.
If your family could leverage that home or property to pay for college education, low interest home equity loans or to start a business, add one inch to your bootstraps.
If you grew up in a neighborhood without violence add one inch to your bootstraps.
Not everyone is given the same bootstraps. Our bootstraps (our abilities, skills and benefits) are the result of privileges given to some, but not to others.
Benefiting from a system that favors some over others is NOT “pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps.” We need to start speaking truthfully and seeing reality as it really is.
Now that you know, what will you do?
Recognizing the systemic nature of discrimination isn’t about working for rights for blacks, Hispanics or women, etc. It is about changing laws and practices so that we have the same human rights for everyone.
Learn more.
Listen to Michelle Alexander on YouTube or read her book The New Jim Crow to learn how our nation’s prison system has become another racial caste system in use in our country today.
No, this isn’t a post on picture frames. This is a post on the way we frame, view or understand the world. Frames are powerful. Once we are in a frame it is almost impossible to see our way out.
However, sometimes something happens that will snap us right out of our frame. Language can help us reframe. Read this post by DH to learn how the language we use determines how we understand or frame crucial issues.
An accident, a trauma, a comment or even a story can quickly pull us out of our frame.
Jesus told stories, called parables, to shock people out of their frames. Jesus was adept at the Judaic tradition of parables. An example of this is the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37).
Jesus tells this story in response to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” In this story, both the priest and the Levite – upstanding people in this social “frame” – refused to help the traveler who had been robbed and left on the roadside. Yet, the Samaritan not only helps but takes the traveler to an inn and pays for his care until his return. This is a shocking story because Samaritans were considered unclean and undesirable people. In our day perhaps the Samaritan might be a homeless person. In the shock of the story, Jesus re-frames the question. Ask not, “Who is my neighbor?” Rather, ask “What must I do to be neighborly?”
All of Jesus’ parables were meant to shock us in this manner, to jolt us out of our distorted view of reality. Jesus used the word metanoia, a Greek word meaning change your mind, change your view of reality. It was directly translated as “repent” but the modern meaning of this word misses what Jesus was communicating. It wasn’t about stopping a particular action or behavior. It was about changing one’s entire orientation to life.
We have other examples of reframing. Aesop’s Fables served a similar purpose.
In ancient Greece, Plato’s Allegory of the Cave is probably the most famous frame-breaker. In this story people, chained to a wall, labor deep in a cave. Their world is very small. All they can see are shadows on the wall before them. They can’t even turn around to see the fire behind them that causes the shadows.
One day, one of them escapes. In leaving the cave she sees the fire that casts dim light into the cave and creates the shadows. Climbing further out of the cave she sees more light reflected from a pool of water. Moving higher still, she finally sees daylight far above at the mouth of the cave.
She returns to tell the others. But they don’t believe her. They won’t even try to turn around and see the fire, much less move towards the light reflected in the pool.
In the end, she must climb upward into the daylight and leave the cave behind.
The cave is a metaphor for being trapped in cultural or family systems, or perhaps being trapped in a life story that is limiting or a narrow worldview. It results in a lack of real freedom to choose better possibilities.
Life is full of possibilities. Full of light. Do we want to live in the shadows? Or in the light? Re-frame.
“It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now and then
— just to loosen up.
Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than
just a social thinker.
I began to think alone — ‘to relax,’ I told myself — but I knew it
wasn’t true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I
was thinking all the time.
That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I turned off the
TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at
her mother’s.
I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don’t
mix, but I couldn’t help myself.
I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau, Muir,
Confucius and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused,
asking, ‘What is it exactly we are doing here?’
One day the boss called me in. He said, ‘Listen, I like you, and it hurts
me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don’t
stop thinking on the job, you’ll have to find another job.’
This gave me a lot to think about. I came home early after my conversation
with the boss. ‘Honey,’ I confessed, ‘I’ve been thinking…’
‘I know you’ve been thinking,’ she said, ‘and I want a divorce!’
‘But Honey, surely it’s not that serious.’ ‘It is serious,’ she said,
lower lip aquiver.
‘You think as much as college professors and college professors don’t make
any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won’t have any money!’
‘That’s a faulty syllogism,’ I said impatiently.
She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to
deal with the emotional drama.
“I’m going to the library,” I snarled as I stomped out the door.
I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into
the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors.
They didn’t open. The library was closed.
To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that
night. Leaning on the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a
poster caught my eye. ‘Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?’ it
asked.
You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinkers
Anonymous poster.
This is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.
I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational
video; last week it was ‘Porky’s.’ Then we share experiences about how we
avoided thinking since the last meeting.
I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just seemed
easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking. I think the road to
recovery is nearly complete for me.”
My last post asked the question, “Who is a guest?” At the Golden Temple this question is answered every day. The least among us are treated like royalty. DH writes,
