Hard jobs and great opportunities: 60 years later

On Oct. 19, 1960, 300 Atlanta college students and supporters, including Martin Luther King Jr., rose up against discrimination and participated in a Nonviolent Sit-in at Rich’s department store in Atlanta, Georgia. King was arrested and jailed, having been told he had violated a probation he did not know he had been placed on after receiving a ticket for the false charge of driving without a license in May.

The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. leaves court after getting a four-month sentence in Atlanta on Oct. 25, 1960, for taking part in a lunch counter sit-in at Rich's department store. Source: Associated Press

King had received the ticket as he and his wife were driving home a white friend with whom they’d recently had dinner, author Lillian E. Smith.

Just three days prior to the October protest, Smith gave a speech in Atlanta to the Regional Students Nonviolent Movement, titled “Are We Still Buying a New World with Old Confederate Bills?” I’m thinking of her speech today, as we swear in our next Catholic president, and our first Black woman Vice President. Later today, Vice President Harris will, in turn, swear in two Democratic Senators representing the state of Georgia.

In Smith’s speech, she spoke about the future, about these students’ courage in choosing the hard way, their vision for a new world free of segregation, and the temptation to make compromises, including the one being promoted to vote for Nixon, giving voice to the anti-Catholic fears being stoked by southern politicians.

Smith was well known for her work challenging the empty promises of the southern “Big Deal” politicians.

They have been trying to buy a new life for the people, a new world, with old Confederate bills. And they don’t seem to know why it can’t be done. They do not, even now, understand why the old Confederate bills they flash around are not real currency. They have not learned a bitter lesson I learned, when I was six years old.

Smith told students the story of how she and her brother once found an old trunk in the attic filled with Confederate bills, how they took it to the candy store, and learned it was worthless. The store manager encouraged them to go home and burn the worthless money. “Don’t keep it around,” he said. “It will mix you up; get you all mixed up about everything…It has no value because there’s nothing back of it.”

This is the lesson the politicians had not learned, and many still have not.

They are still trying to buy a future for our country, with currency that is worthless: with ideas that have no validity, opinions that are not based on facts, values that are not human and Earth-size.

As we move forward today, to build a future on values that are human and Earth-size, we must still today, just as Smith urged 60 years ago, not fall for the empty currency of false hopes and false fears that turn us away from today’s awesome opportunity, a currency that tempts us to “sell out big causes for little ones”:

What happens to our country depends on our skill in separating false fears from rational ones, false dangers from real ones confronting the whole world. What happens will depend on whether we choose to live in a past full of ghosts or in a future full of hard jobs and great opportunities.

I’m thinking about Smith’s speech today, and about King’s bravery. Just as King’s actions inspired John F. Kennedy’s “call that changed history”, the Black Lives Matter protests across the country, and the work of bold organizers in Georgia, have inspired us to once again take up a future full of hard jobs and great opportunities. I hope we will rise to the challenge, and turn away from the worthless currencies Smith called out 60 years ago. Today begins an awesome opportunity, if we will take it up.

Feeling lost is part of the journey

Sometimes when we try to meditate, or pray, or do other types of mindfulness practice, we just. can't. even.

Most people who have practiced meditation or prayer for a time encounter this. But even if we know that, when we experience it ourselves it can feel quite overwhelming. This spiritual "imposter syndrome", the sense that we are directionless and lost, can throw a person off their practice, sometimes lead them to abandon it altogether. There's a great temptation to give up when we're feeling unmoored, arid, unproductive. In fact, the feeling of being "abandoned" by our practice, as though it's all just not worth it and we have no idea what you are doing, can be one of the most intensely discouraging things to happen. 

Spiritual teachers note that this feeling itself, of being lost, unmoored, abandoned by our practice, is an essential part of the journey. Our task is to learn to sit with it, and even embrace it.

Juan de Yepes y Álvarez, a 16th century Spanish monk and mystic, wrote some of the most beautiful, sensual poetry we know about the experience of being in the dark, alone and abandoned by God. The man we know as John of the Cross called his poem the Dark Night of the Soul. But far from being a morose, sad poem, it’s one of the most exquisite love poems written.

“Oh, night that guided me,
Oh, night more lovely than the dawn,
Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover,
Lover transformed in the Beloved!”

Juan transforms the experience of being in the dark and lost into an experience of joy and relief, of being concealed from the rest of the world, so that he can pursue his Beloved God.
Juan takes the experience of spiritual darkness, of being abandoned and entirely alone, and interprets it as a gift from God, the God he seeks, his Beloved. The pursuit of the divine Lover becomes his spiritual quest, and the darkness and feeling of being lost becomes a necessary part of the quest.

Practicing detachment from the world is hard, and part of that practice is often coming to grips with that sense of being unmoored, of being lost and in the dark. Juan celebrates this experience as part of spiritual progress, a necessary step in the soul’s journey.

In our own practice, when we learn to sit with this darkness and even recognize it as a key part of the journey, we transform it into something we can use. This difficult "night that guides" becomes a uniquely valuable gift. 

Finding Reasons to Run: National Running Day

Why do you run?

Having completed my first half marathon, my first marathon, and my second, I’ve found that running takes on a new quality. Today, on National Running Day, I've been giving some thought to why I run. It's been on my mind, now that all those magic “firsts” gone.

Yesterday, a friend of mine asked: “Now that I’ve done all those firsts, I need to find new motivation. Why should I run the next marathon, or half marathon?"
 
Do people really run so they can eat donuts or drink beer? The enjoyment of good food and drink is probably one reason, but it’s not enough to keep one going through long, sweaty summer miles and frigid, slippery runs at zero dark-thirty in winter. 
Thinking about why to run is the same as thinking about why to do anything in our lives. We have our basket of days; we know they are finite in number. What meaning will we give to those days?

The best reasons to run are reasons that give meaning to the effort. People run to transform themselves, become better, less anxious, less depressed, physically and mentally stronger so they can have the necessary strength to accomplish other goals. People run to enjoy themselves, to socialize, regenerate, push the mental “reset button” by getting away from the busy-ness of life. People run to build self-confidence, setting smaller goals that lead to larger accomplishments.

“People sometimes sneer at those who run every day, claiming they’ll go to any length to live longer. But don’t think that’s the reason most people run. Most runners run not because they want to live longer, but because they want to live life to the fullest. If you’re going to while away the years, it’s far better to live them with clear goals and fully alive then in a fog, and I believe running helps you to do that. Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that’s the essence of running, and a metaphor for life — and for me, for writing as whole. I believe many runners would agree.”

— Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

For myself, being fully alive is the best reason to run. Pushing past my insecurities, my self-doubts, making peace with my limitations are all things I can do through running. And that practice, of stretching to be most fully alive, of methodically, routinely pushing through my discomfort, is excellent practice for every other difficulty, and in building a life full of meaning one is bound to encounter plenty of difficulty.

Building Circles of Support: Resilience, Love and Community

What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love."
- Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

Humans are born and genetically designed to be in relation to one another. No one is an island unto themselves.

Finding love and getting into relation, however, can be a problem. First, because Western culture discourages dependence on others. Second, because our own fears and weaknesses drive us to separate from those we need most.

Building circles of support are essential to human thriving. How can we build community in the face of these challenges?

Finding your tribe

American culture has atomized us, doing us a great disservice when it comes to how we handle difficulty. By focusing on consumption, the Western model assumes we make "rational choices" in our own interests, and that those interests compete with everyone else's. This hyper-individualistic boot-strappiness comes at a great price to our mental health, and it's something we need to un-learn in order to thrive.

This is perhaps most true for new parents, who feel both the strongest need for community and the greatest social pressure to go it alone. Writer and mother Tarja Parssinen echoed this in her recent Salon article about how American individualism is destroying families.  "I lived alone for almost a decade," she said, "but I never actually felt alone until I had children."

My friend and my daughter at the San Francisco La Leche League conference

Knowing how isolated I felt after my first child was born, with my second I was determined to pay greater attention to my own need for community. So, just a couple of months after my daughter was born, I sought out an opportunity to attend a conference for La Leche League leaders in San Francisco. I was blessed that my best friend was also a leader and attended the conference too; she helped immensely with my daughter, and provided a much needed social outlet. But I had to push past the social stigma of traveling with a young child, and I had to ask for her help, and in order to be able to ask I had to recognize that my need for social interaction and community was as important to me as food. We aren't meant to do difficult things alone.

Building resilience to social anxiety

Adding to the cultural signals we get to bear our burdens alone is often social anxiety. For myself, I have found that one of the weaknesses left over from my childhood is a fear of being rejected. As a mostly extroverted person, social interaction is a daily need, so rejection and isolation can feel like holding my breath underwater.

How does one build the resilience needed to embrace and strengthen this vulnerable part of ourselves? Oddly enough, it’s been through my running that I’ve been confronted with this weakness and been given opportunities to understand how the fear moves through me, so that I can make peace with it.

Running friends can make all the difference!

When I started running again, I discovered the great joy of running socially with others. Long runs are less of a chore when one can chat through the miles, and my new running connections propelled me on, providing acceptance and encouragement. Runners are some of the best people I know; because running is an individual sport, whatever pace you run you will likely find someone to share it. However, it can also lead to anxiety when you’re doing it with someone who is a bit faster or stronger than you.

Once, while out for a group run I met some new friends who were part of an established group. They warmly welcomed me and as we ran, I found the pace challenging but manageable. Later in the run though I struggled to keep up with them. That's when my internal monologue started.

My inner voice said it’s much easier for them, look at them chatting while I lag behind and struggle! I began to be critical of myself and the more critical I was the more it sapped my energy and I began to drop back. I noticed then that as I lagged, they didn’t look back or slow down but kept going and even speeded up a bit, lost in conversation and enjoying the run. This fueled my anxiety, and I began to think they were happy to be rid of me, that I was an anchor slowing them down and it would be best if I just stopped and let them run on ahead while I had some water and felt sorry for myself. But another part of me wanted to press on and try to catch up, and so I continued, struggling with feeling rejected and alone and then finding other things to worry about, like the aggressive black birds on the path (which are less likely to attack a group) or the humidity.

I see and acknowledge that for me, this is a part of the mental challenge of running distances, and it’s a great opportunity to build my own social resilience. Fear of rejection, feeling isolated is exhausting and saps my energy. In the past, it’s led me to only want to run alone, so that there is one less thing for my head to deal with besides the trail, the conditions and my body’s fatigue. But that robs me of vital social opportunities and the support they bring. The best course is for me to be present for my anxiety, find ways to see and accept it and then release it. As I’ve run more, I’ve come to appreciate the importance of this opportunity to see this tender spot in my psyche, acknowledge it and push past it. It is through this repetitive encounter, acceptance and gently pushing on that I exercise this muscle and make friends with my own vulnerability.

Most often, people get wrapped up in their own stuff and simply don’t notice what is going on around them with others. Even more, we often don’t notice what is going on within ourselves. I believe it is the blindness of what’s going on within ourselves that is the greater obstacle to being able to love and connect. It is our own self-blindness that creates the hell of isolation.

When we can acknowledge and assert our need for social connection, we can have those needs met. When we can acknowledge, sit with and practice moving through our fears, we can build the resilience necessary to persist in building those connections. Both of these, recognizing the validity of our needs and the things that get in our own way, can help us find the love, support and connection that bring joy to life, and make it worth the struggle.

How to save your own life

Published in Elephant Journal

“The trick is not how much pain you feel–but how much joy you feel. Any idiot can feel pain. Life is full of excuses to feel pain, excuses not to live, excuses, excuses, excuses.

- Erica Jong

A friend once told me:

half the people in our running group were going through divorce, confronting change and loss. Another third were working through broken bodies and sickness, Confronting mortality.

The rest were just regular crazy. I think I'm a bit of each.

In running, I become a student of me and my limits. In running, I become a student of the universe and its limitlessness. In running, I learn the distinction between the two is everything and nothing.

Running doesn't give joy. It allows the space to give joy to yourself.

Running won't save you. It allows the space to save yourself.

So, to save your own life: Go for a long run.

Run beyond the thunderstorm. Run beyond your tears. Outlast your phone battery. Outlast fear of being alone in the woods.

Run along the river, run in the woods. Run with crickets and egrets and dark green. Run until you are so tired you can at last be still, and listen to what the river has to tell you about living a life.

Rush and bubble and gush, joy in full force, become a tributary and flow into the river. Flow around the obstacles. Let the wind move you, the sun warm you, make you glitter and shine.

Converge with other tributaries, flow and surge. When spread too thin in the shallows, slow down.

Pool and puddle and pause, become a source for deep-rooted trees and lush stories, and for people and places that don't know they need you. Then reflect back that beauty for others to enjoy.

Run along, and when you are tired from running then flow. Unseen forces are moving you, even when you seem to be still.

Bear witness to joy, to stillness, bear witness to yourself. Go for a long run, and save your own life.

Unpredictable

Who "makes it through" tragedy and difficulty? A talented web dev colleague of mine, Eric Meyer, has been writing through the unspeakable tragedy of the loss of their six year old daughter. I am grateful for the gift of his beautiful writing in the midst of this wretched time.

Extreme events place immense, sometimes overwhelming stress on relationships. There isn't really a formula for who makes it through. "It isn’t strength that keeps a couple together in the face of crisis. It’s having the luck to remain compatible under the most extreme pressures. Like any complex interaction between two complex systems, the outcome is fundamentally unpredictable."