Sacred Witness

I can barely look at the wrenching images of the birds affected by the oil spill off the Gulf, but I don't feel it is acceptable to not bear witness to their suffering.  In the pictures, the birds seem to be meeting our gaze - looking us directly in the eye and beseeching us to see what we've done. When I spoke with indigenous elder Diane Longboat about the Gulf tragedy, she helped me to see that their suffering must be redeemed by acknowledging and understanding that they are messengers of a new way we must live on this planet.  To not recognize, and honour, their sacrifice, we deny their integrity in the web of life and continue to threaten our survival on this planet.

The images of the birds are stark reminders of our abuse and our unconsciousness of our interconnectedness.  As a species, we have hurt our relations by not honouring the sacredness of their lives.  It is only when images such as the photographs of these noble creatures comes to consciousness that we are forced to truly see the impact of what we have done.  Our witnessing then becomes the catalyst for deep change, allowing us to forgive ourselves and ask forgiveness for, our reckless pursuit of more.

From this sobered and humbled place, we open ourselves to co-creating a different world.

Turning Conflict Into Art

There is real difficulty in naming, acknowledging, and owning the experience of violation and, potentially trauma, that can sometimes occur in intense conflicts.  It can be even more challenging to move on from conflicts that offer no balm or accountability for the unethical actions of others. We can be hurt so deeply when the acknowledgement of our voice, our perspective, our strength, and the integrity of our intentions is refused.  The 'easy', (and sometimes brutish) route of blaming and scapegoating  for a conflict situation emerges when another's humanity is denied.

Speaking truth to power is one of the most paradoxically powerful and vulnerable forms of conflict that emerges in our world.   Toxic authority - both the kind that is entrenched in outer systems, as well as in inner ways of relating that are learned behaviours - does not like to be challenged, or have its actions questioned in any way.  Toxic power can respond to questioning with rage, panic, and ruthlessness.  Rather than allow the truth to emerge, cover ups and denial are the learned modes of operating, thereby creating more and more confusion and despair within the self-regulating system of life.  Healthy life systems have their own exquisitely tuned feedback loops which are always co-creating towards greater self-expresson, self-expansion and wholeness.

Learning from the dance of opposites that we find in the natural world, we see the stunning co-creativity that is constantly at work in all dynamics.  If we could remember, and truly trust this instinct and impulse, our  trauma could potentially become the canvas of the greatest form of expression of the deepest source of our selves.  The artist of life, through honouring and expressing the comedy and tragedy of the dance, can turn painful conflict into an exquisite new creation.

Self-Forgiveness

It's often easier to forgive others than to forgive ourselves for the mistakes we make along the way.  As human beings, we are bound to make missteps - sometimes big ones.  If we are committed to birthing our ideals in the world, we can be very hard on ourselves when confronting our own contradications. Can we forgive ourselves? 

More often than not, our intentions are good.  Unfortunately, we can be inexperienced, naive, overly idealistic, and even triggered by our past wounds.  We can override our intuition and find ourselves in a shark pit.  We trust where we really shouldn't. We can say too much, and be too honest, when we should learn to be more careful and circumspect.  We can have too much blind hope in our ideals, and not be willing to face the way things work "in the real world" to disasterous ends.  We get jealous, frustrated, and angry. We can be so driven by our vision, that we lose sight of the here and now - forgetting that it is in the intimacy of the everyday that the world is transformed, moment by moment.

I've always loved that Gandhi's autobiography is called My Experiments with Truth.  That is what a conscious, committed journey really is - an experiment.  When we surrender to that which is weaving us, we glimpse the implicate order, the larger pattern of our lives...the larger story that weaves the pieces into a whole.  This quilt includes all the themes on the journey - big mistakes and all.  When we poke behind the mask of our mistakes and the faces of our adversaries, we find our greatest teachers and life lessons. 

In my life, Kuan Yin (the goddess of compassion) has often been hidden behind what Bill Taggart refers to as the 'blessed betrayers" - the people and experiences that have caused the most grief, hurt and pain.   If I can seek and find compassion for the other who has deeply hurt me, then I must be worthy of extending it to myself as well.

Hope & Struggle

Last week, our grade 8 students put on an extraordinary performance.  In many ways, it did not feel like a performance at all; it felt like a sacred moment in time.  The students had researched a hero or heroine using Joseph Campbell's criteria in Hero of a Thousand Faces and had to defend their choice.  They then researched their hero/heroine's words, put together a speech, and collaborated in a symposium where they put the script together.  In addition to the dramatic component, the students also created life-size sketches of their hero/heroine.

The ability of these grade 8 students to embody the powerful words of people like Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, Dian Fossey, Tommy Douglas,  and James Orbinski (who was in the audience), was truly inspirational and moving.  Staged in conversation with one another in themed vignettes, the struggle for justice in terms of women's rights, gay and lesbian rights, racial equality, environmental and economic equality was brought into the present moment through the voices of both the ancestors of these struggles, as well as the present-day predecessors picking up the torch.

Blending curriculum expectations across the disciplines of visual and dramatic arts, English, history and geograpy, the students were living the power and promise of a relevant, engaging, and meaningful education.  Conceived and led by an exceptional educator (Lynn Heath), the students were challenged with high expectations and rose to exceed them all.

Hope and struggle - sometimes they seem polarized and yet, what we witnessed through this unforgettable evening is that they exist in relationship to one another. Hope fuels struggle's promise and gives it meaning, while struggle makes the promise of hope a reality.  The truth of this was evident in the tears of the audience - in recognition of both the past struggles to strive for a better world, and the witnessing of this young generation embodying new hope for the future.

The Work That Reconnects - The Next Generation

The Work That Reconnects is the name for the work that has been developed by Joanna Macy, the profound American activist who has merged Buddhist philosophy and systems theory into an integrated form of healing and activism.  The premise is a simple one, although the implications are far-reaching.  The idea is that by engaging in practices which help us reconnect to our feelings, to our bodies and to the Earth, we can more meaningfully participate in the 'Great Turning' - the shift from an industrial society to a sustainable one.

Yesterday as part of honouring Earth Hour at school, I led the students through some of these practices - including a meditation, a creative visualization with seven generations back and seven generations forward, a gratitude circle and a 'boddhisatva check-in."  The best part?  The vast majority of students loved it, and allowed other dimensions of their intelligence - particularly their emotional and intuitive intelligence - to be come forward during the activities.

I have been fortunate to participate in Jeannette McCullough's skilled facilitation of this work here in Toronto for adults.  Through my own immersion in work like this, I have become more passionately convinced that young people need more opportunities to connect with themselves, one another, and the Earth in simple and profound ways like this.  We used little to no electricity during these activities, and there was a palpable level of engaged focus in the class.

The best proof?  The student who piped up at the end of our time to say, "Hey Maria - did you notice that none of us were misbehaving during these activities?  We should do this more often!"

What Remains

This week, a beloved aunt passed away.  My cousin eulogized her beautifully.  She was, by societal standards, a 'simple' woman - yet she was nothing less than a force of life and love, and her loss is deeply grieved.  Is it not 'simple' qualities like the ones she possessed which truly remain and allow us to touch the infinite in our mortal dress?

I have been pretty 'roughed up' for my beliefs about life, truth, love and justice, but my commitment to them only deepens and I hold them even closer, despite all the evidence that seems to point to the contrary, and all the challenges and losses I've faced in my desire to honour them. 

Why?

For as much evidence that tears away at them, I find more that leads me into the heart of them when I am able to see with the eyes of my true nature.  It is through the little things that the infinite often sounds its potent existence. 

This past week, it was the way the sun bathed her coffin at the front of the church in the midst of days that have been remarkable only for the depth of their greyness and chill.  It was in the rivers of tears that spoke of her capcity to love in this life, and the dignity summoned by those who loved her back to honour her in the midst of their unfathomable grief.  It was also in the smiles and joy of the children too young to understand this loss, yet wise enough to bring forth their new life to shine on broken hearts - their medicine the balm that tugs gently at the hollowness, a reminder to return again to the gift of embodiment that remains for those who live.

The doorway to the infinite was there even more potently when a beautiful teacher of indigenous ways raised her ancestral pipe in ceremony to see my aunt's life in its barest essence.  I cried at the reverberations of the truth of her message.

When we leave our mortal dress, what remains?

I believe it is the essence with which we tried to live the eternal in our finite existence.  How well did we love, pursue truth, heal, seek justice, act courageously, and embody the gift of life more fully through gratitude, joy and creativity?

These are the infinite gifts granted to our humble lives. Our task, one that is often not easy, is to say - in spite of it all - Yes.

Power & Love

So many people are working to shift our collective trajectory at this time.  The movement, as Paul Hawken writes, is a "blessed unrest" - a myriad of individuals, groups and movements seeking to restore balance to the world.  What are the challenges that undermine this work?  How can we become better, more conscious, more loving, and more powerful agents of positive change?

In his new book Power and Love, Adam Kahane explores our two fundamental human drives: power, which he defines as the focused pursuit to achieve one's solitary purpose, and love, the drive towards unity.  When we fall into either extreme, we are not as effective as we need to be.  We either escalate conflict by pushing for our own agenda at all costs, or we avoid conflict to keep a false peace and harmony.  Either approach taken without a respect for the other lands us into trouble.  Kahane quotes Martin Luther King: “Power without love is reckless and abusive, and love without power is sentimental and anemic.”


We are challenged to hold the paradox of both.  Yet this is not as easy as it sounds, as I think we have all been imprinted by the toxic power drives that have so imbalanced our world.  Power has ruled without love in our world for a long time, and we are dealing with the consequences today. Without a conscious effort to healing that split within ourselves, we are vulnerable to falling into either side of the abyss.  Where do victim and victimizer find peace?

Somewhere in our minds and hearts are the answers, I think - pulsing with vitality and clarity, yet vulnerable enough to yearn and reach for what we long for in the deepest corners of our being.

Can we trust ourselves enough to use our power with conscious, loving intent?  Do we love fiercely enough to move us into our true power? 

Can we join together, empowered in our love, to do what needs to be done to ensure a better future?