BEGIN:VCALENDAR
VERSION:2.0
PRODID:-//The Open Road:  a learning community - ECPv6.15.3//NONSGML v1.0//EN
CALSCALE:GREGORIAN
METHOD:PUBLISH
X-ORIGINAL-URL:https://openroadpdx.com
X-WR-CALDESC:Events for The Open Road:  a learning community
REFRESH-INTERVAL;VALUE=DURATION:PT1H
X-Robots-Tag:noindex
X-PUBLISHED-TTL:PT1H
BEGIN:VTIMEZONE
TZID:America/Los_Angeles
BEGIN:DAYLIGHT
TZOFFSETFROM:-0800
TZOFFSETTO:-0700
TZNAME:PDT
DTSTART:20220313T100000
END:DAYLIGHT
BEGIN:STANDARD
TZOFFSETFROM:-0700
TZOFFSETTO:-0800
TZNAME:PST
DTSTART:20221106T090000
END:STANDARD
END:VTIMEZONE
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20220106
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20220120
DTSTAMP:20260427T082810
CREATED:20220108T204359Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20250718T130239Z
UID:2529-1641427200-1642636799@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding  1/6/22
DESCRIPTION:  \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n  \nJanuary 6\, 2022 \n  \nDr. Cornel West gave the Collins Distinguished Speaker Lecture at the University of Oregon\, on April 26\, 2019. His lecture was titled “Race Matters…A Timely Discussion on the Fabric of America.” On YouTube\, the talk is titled “What It Means to Be Human.” This is a transcription of the first part of the talk: \n  \n  \nWhat It Means to Be Human \n  \nFour hundred years of being hated—individually\, systemically\, chronically\, institutionally\, and yet the best of the Black tradition is what? Teaching the world so much about love. I could just turn on John Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme” right now\, and sit down. Just let you take it in. Or I could read passages from Toni Morrison’s Beloved. A love so thick that it takes the form of the killing of your precious baby\, because you don’t want your baby dirtied and thingified by white supremacist persons\, practices\, institutions\, structures. I could read the love-soaked essays of James Baldwin\, the son of Harlem. Never went to college\, but at least two colleges went through him. He would say over and over again: “Love forces us to take off the mask we know we cannot live within\, but fear we cannot live without.” Courage. Interrogation. There’s never been a figure on the American stage—given all of the genius and talent\, of Eugene O’Neill and probably the greatest indictment ever written of the American Empire in The Iceman Cometh\, or Tennessee Williams\, or Arthur Miller\, or August Wilson\, or Adrienne Kennedy—but I’m talkin’ about Loraine Hansbury’s A Raisin in the Sun. Has there ever been a figure with more love than Mama on the American stage? Five generations enacted\, and her attempt to bequeath and to transmit what the Isley Brothers would call “a caravan of love” to that younger generation. Walter keeps Travis\, in light of Old Man Walter—you oughta know the play—who dies\, who bequeaths ten thousand dollars\, to see whether they’ll get to that vanilla suburb or not. But that’s not the end and aim of it. The aim is: measuring people based on their courageous attempt to cultivate the capacity to think for themselves. To learn how to love. And to laugh. And to hope. I could turn on Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Goin’ On?” Every note and the silence between the notes. “Save the babies.” “Who really cares?” Or Stevie Wonder’s “Love’s in Need of Love.” But this love that we’re talking about again—this is not abstract. It is concrete\, and it is as real as a heart attack. And it has something to do with the Socratic legacy of Athens. It has something to do with line 38A of Plato’s Apology: “The unexamined life is not worth living.” And we know the Greek actually said: “The unexamined life is not the life of a human.” And we know our English word “human” comes from the Latin humando\, which means what? Burial and burying. We’re beings on the way to death. And you can’t talk about race matters\, you can’t talk about what it means to be human\, without talking about wrestling with forms of death and what it means to be on intimate relations with forms of death. Early physical deaths\, indeed\, but also social death. That 244 years of  white supremacist slavery attempt to make them socially dead\, in the language of the great Orlando Patterson\, in his 1982 classic\, Slavery and Social Death. Unsuccessful. Resistance\, resilience still kicks in\, but the attempt to impose a social death. And then a psychic death. And what is psychic death? Well\, for black people in the modern world it has to do with trying to wrestle against the forces of niggerization. Because to niggerize a people is to try to convince them they’re less beautiful\, they’re less intelligent\, they’re less moral—to instill in them unbelievable fear\, to instill in them this sense  that they oughta be scared all the time\, and intimidated all the time. Laughin’ when it ain’t funny. Scratchin’ when it don’t itch. Wearing the mask\, as Paul Lawrence Dunbar said it in his great poem. That’s why one of the most powerful sentences in James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time\, is that line in the letter to the nephew: “Don’t\, comma\, be afraid.” That’s why Marcus Garvey would always have a black person in front of every major demonstration with a big sign: “The negro is not afraid.” Even if they’re shaking\, carrying the sign. That’s why the great Mary Ellen Pleasant\, who was the first black woman millionaire in America\, known as “the Mother of Human Rights in California.” She happened to be a black domestic maid who married a white Robber Baron\, and he dropped dead. She got all his money. And she didn’t kill him. It was a natural thing. But never forget Mary Ellen Pleasant. She gave eight hundred thousand dollars to a white brother named John Brown. That’s how he survived financially on his way to Harper’s Ferry. She would start every lecture\, all over California\, with the line: “I’d rather be a corpse than a coward.” Just like Martin Luther King\, Jr. would always say to his staff: “I’d rather be dead than afraid.” Wrestling with what it means to be human. Being on intimate terms with death. And the echoes\, going back to Plato\, when he says: “Philosophy itself is a meditation on and preparation for death.” Philo sophia\, “love of wisdom.” Meditation on\, preparation for: death. And even Seneca—and we don’t expect too much profundity from the Romans\, they’re so busy running an empire\, very much like we Americans—he used to say: “He or she who learns how to die\, unlearns slavery.” I’ve told my students for 41 years of my very blessed life of teaching: “When you come in my classroom\, you’re here to learn how to die.” “Oh Brother West\, I thought I was just taking a Philosophy class\, to read some texts\, and get a grade.” “No\, no! This is paideia. This is p-a-i-d-e-i-a. This is deep education. This is not cheap schooling.” When you’re talking about race matters you’re not just talking about skill acquisition and information. You’re talking about self-interrogation and social transformation. And the best of the University of Oregon\, with all of the challenges that go along with any institution of higher learning in our late Capitalist civilization that’s undergoing commodification\, bureaucratization\, corporatization\, rationalization\, making it more and more difficult for any kind of paideia to take place. But the students come in so pre-professional. Can’t wait to make their move into the professions. “No\, you gotta learn how to think first. No\, you gotta learn how to laugh first. You gotta learn how to play first. You gotta wrestle with what it means to be human.” “I’ll get to that later on\, I just need my skills.” Oh\, what makes you think any democracy can survive\, based on dominant forces of corporatization\, commodification\, bureaucratization and rationalization\, in the Weberian sense? You’re gonna end up\, as Du Bois said so powerfully in The Souls of Black Folk: “Caught in the dusty desert of smartness and dollars.” And in many ways that’s where we are. I don’t know about the University of Oregon\, but back at Harvard oftentimes the highest thing a student can say about themselves is they’re the smartest in the room. And I tell ‘em: “Let the phones be smart\, and you be wise.” The fantasizing of smartness\, tied to richness—how spiritually empty! How morally vacuous! And\, most importantly\, reinforcing the worst protocols of professional culture\, which are conformity\, complacency\, and when it’s time to actually act\, cowardliness. Because the careerism and the opportunism are so overwhelming . Thank God for Socrates. Thank God for all of those who are willing to\, first\, begin with themselves. Self-examination. Self-interrogation. And when you give up an assumption or presupposition\, when you give up a dogma or a doctrine—that’s a form of death. And there is no education without that kind of death. There’s no maturation without that kind of death. That’s what learning how to die is all about. One of the greatest eulogies ever written—one sentence—by a sister named Dorothy Day\, one of the great prophetic figures of the Twentieth Century. She’s my fellow Catholic sister. When Martin Luther King\, Jr.\, was murdered\, April 4th\, 1968\, in her historic newspaper The Catholic Worker she said: “Martin Luther King\, Jr. learned how to die daily.” To continually grow\, continually mature\, and it’s endless\, it is perennial\, and you always end up in a moment of inadequacy—almost an echo of our great lapsed Protestant artistic genius\, Samuel Beckett\, when he said: “Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” “Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” That’s the best that we can do. But you’re continually in process\, calling yourself into question\, interrogating whatever assumptions you are falling back on. That’s Socratic energy at its highest level. To come to terms with race matters is to begin with self always already tied to society\, always already tied to forms of death\, forms of dogma\, and forms of domination. To be human is to wrestle with those inescapable and unavoidable realities\, to drop any linguistically conscious primate\, like ourselves\, in time and space\, means you’re gonna have to wrestle with forms of death—first\, bodily extinction\, the psychic and spiritual death\, possibly civic death\, forms of patriarchy\, class-based\, could be empire\, colonized people. But then: dogma—ideological dogma\, religious dogma\, political dogma\, scientific dogma. You say: “Brother West\, how could there be scientific dogma? To be scientific is to be always concerned about questioning.” “Read the history of science.” Just read it closely. The great John Dewey always made a distinction between scientific method and scientific temper. The method itself can become a dogma. Just like skepticism. If you’re not skeptical about skepticism you get locked into a certain kind of skepticism. And in the end it becomes a matter of adolescent activity\, because skepticism usually presupposes the vantage point of a spectator. Whereas\, criticism is one of a participant. So\, you can play all kinds of games as a spectator\, but when you are involved\, when it comes to your house\, and your loved ones\, all of a sudden things shift. And that’s one of the great stories of white supremacy in the United States. So often people can be in a state of denial. Look at the U.S. Constitution: any reference to the institution of white supremacist slavery? No! Twenty-two percent of the inhabitants of the thirteen colonies are enslaved. No reference to the institution in your constitution. You’re gonna end up havin’ a Civil War of 750\,000 precious people killed over an institution not invoked in your constitution. “Well\, Professor West\, that’s just a fascinating tension between principal and practice.” “Get off the crack pipe!” That’s called denial. That’s called avoidance. That’s called thinking in fact that you can somehow\, through willful ignorance\, treat people\, conceive of yourself\, in ways that those effects and consequences won’t come back to haunt you. What did Malcolm X call it? “Chickens comin’ home to roost.” Sooner or later\, you’re gonna reap what you sow. Sooner or later\, what you think you’ve been able to escape from is gonna hunt you down. We’re seeing that right now in imperial America. We end up killing almost a million Muslims and can’t say a mumblin’ word in our public discourse. Invasions of Iraq\, Afghanistan\, Pakistan. And then you get the counter-terrorists and we wonder why they’re upset. Now\, terrorism\, for me\, needs to be called into question across the board. Taking the life of innocent human beings\, for any reason\, is a crime against humanity. But no serious concern about how many Iraqis died. Same is true with our drones. Innocent folk in Yemen and Somalia and Pakistan\, Libya\, Afghanistan can die. Kill one American—Brother Barack did what? Had a press conference that same day. Gave economic compensation for the family that same day. And yet already denied that they killed any innocent people\, as a whole. Quit lyin’! Quit lyin’! Keep track of human beings! Those babies in Yemen and Somalia\, those babies in Pakistan—they have exactly the same status and significance as black babies in South Central Los Angeles\, as brown babies in East Los Angeles\, as white babies in Newtown Connecticut\, as yellow babies in San Francisco. And we like to talk about it in the abstract\, but when it comes time to being actually tested in our actions\, we’re livin’ in denial. We might as well be in Disneyworld on Main Street. And what’s fascinating about Disneyworld—so stereotypically and quintessentially American? There’s a lot of fun there. But there’s no life. And there’s no life because there’s no death. If somebody’s about to die in Disneyworld\, you just take ‘em and push ‘em across the line. “You’re gonna besmirch our image. Nobody’s supposed to die in Disneyworld\, now.” Ah! I’m bein’ facetious. Y’all get the point\, though. Escapist! Escapist! Escapist! Given all of the overwhelming sense of possibility\, and supposedly prosperity\, and yet\, one out of two of our children\, black and brown\, under six years old\, live in poverty in the richest nation in the history of the world. That’s a moral disgrace! Where’s the discourse about it? Martin Luther King\, Jr. turns over in his grave. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel turns over in his grave. Are we gonna actually keep track of the underside? Are we gonna be Socratic enough that we can keep track of the Conrad-like heart of darkness shot through all of the life of liberty that we talk about in the United States? Or\, sooner or later\, you’re gonna reap what you sow. Absolutely. And of course\, usually the people who raise this issue end up being misunderstood\, misconstrued\, marginalized\, incarcerated\, or shot down like a dog. The truth is too much! It’s too overwhelming! Rather close one’s eyes. And yet\, when the crisis comes\, ooh\, lo and behold! That’s why race matters in regard to indigenous peoples\, in regard to our precious brown brothers and sisters. Moving borders. I grew up in California. Used to be Mexico. Read what Ulysses S. Grant says about the Mexican War. Just massive gentrification\, a power grab\, and a land grab\, across the board. Immigration discourse. Well\, they comin’ home. They comin’ home. That used to be theirs. Viciously\, immorally taken. Or Asian brothers and sisters. The very year in which we had the Statue of Liberty—“Give me your poor”—there’s the Chinese Exclusion Act. So much for our universality. And of course you all here in Oregon\, you know about the Black Exclusion Acts of 1844. Is that right? You know about those? [Someone in the audience says: “No\, we don’t.”] Well\, they need to know. I’m gonna put up a picture. Serious exclusion acts. Black folk can’t step foot in Oregon. “But we’re anti-slavery.” “Yes\, but you’re anti-black people\, at the same time.” That is highly possible. We human beings\, we’re so creative when it comes to mistreatin’ each other. Be against slavery\, but don’t want black folks too close. Can’t stand the institution\, but oh\, when those live human beings and bodies get close\, we’re overwhelmed. That’s part of the challenge\, too. That’s why any discussion about race is never simply a discussion about policy\, structural institutions—as crucial as structural institutions are. But it’s also about the ways in which subjectivities are constructed\, the ways in which individuals are created. And then\, the choices that people make\, not just as persons\, but in collectivities\, in groups\, in communities. And that’s one of the reasons why the best of the University of Oregon or any other institution of higher learning has to put such a stress on that Socratic legacy of Athens\, that paideia. And that line 24A of Plato’s Apology\, when Socrates says: “Parrhesia is the cause of my unpopularity.” What is parrhesia—p-a-r-r-h-e-s-i-a? Frank speech. Fearless speech. Plain speech. Unintimidated speech. Education at its highest level is about fusing the formation of our wise attention with the cultivation of our critical thinking\, that’s linked to the maturation of compassionate and courageous people. Now\, we raised the question: “Is courage a dominant virtue in our universities?” Hell\, no! No\, it’s not at all. It’s about smartness. It’s about status. And\, too often\, arrogance and condescension. Courage is tied to fortitude. Fortitude is tied to a certain humility. Socrates!: “I know that I know more than others precisely because I know that I know nothing. And they think they know something they do not know.” Intellectual humility. Personal humility. But it’s tied also to a tenacity. “I’m going to raise whatever is inside of me to think for myself\,” as Kant put it in What is Enlightenment?  of 1784. The release from self-incurred tutelage. The release from self-imposed immaturity. Dare to think for yourself! That’s what it is to find a voice of my own black tradition. So when Monk tells Coltrane\, “You been imitatin’ Johnny Hodges of the Duke Ellington Band too much\, John. It’s time for you to find your voice. What does Trane sound like?” And I don’t know how many of you all had a chance to see “Amazing Grace.” Has that hit Eugene yet? Aretha\, twenty-nine years old\, walks into James Cleveland’s church and raises her voice. And who’s on the front row? Not just her father\, Reverend C. L. Franklin\, one of the finest of all preachers enacting such a grand oratorical art\, but Clara Ward—echoes of Marion Williams—those Aretha imitated\, until she found her voice. I don’t know if many of you all got a chance to see “Homecoming” yet\, about Beyonce. Oh\, we got some Queen Bee beehives up in here? Oh\, sooki sooki\, now. Yeah. So what does she do when she enters predominantly white space? She brings her whole crew with her\, doesn’t she? She brings her whole culture with her—two hundred musicians linked to historically black college performances. And the performances are not mere entertainment. Each one of them are lifting their voices\, just like Duke Ellington’s orchestra. Just like James Brown’s band. Just like the musicians in Sly Stone’s group. Each one finding their voice. And they bounce off against each other. Ralph Ellison called it “antagonistic cooperation.” ‘Cause it’s not competition in the market-driven sense: “I’m so good\, and you’re sounding so bad.” No. Grow up. We’re in this together. And\, most importantly\, kenosis. And this is what oftentimes is missing in any serious talk about race matters\, especially in the academy\, but even outside. And what is kenosis—k-e-n-o-s-i-s? Kenosis is self-emptying\, self-donating\, self-giving. It’s like the end of a James Brown concert\, when he comes out and says\, “I’m an extension of you. You’re an extension of me. I’ve just given you three-and-a-half hours of all that I am. Did anybody come here to hear a song we did not play?” “You didn’t play ‘Soul Power\,’ James.” He says\, “Hit it\, Bootsie!” Because you come to serve. You’re not a spectacle. I go to some of these concerts with these young brothers and sisters\, highly talented\, and all that spectacle hits. I went to one of Usher’s concerts. That negro was flippin’ over like he was in a circus. I said: “ Pick up the microphone and sing a song\, negro! I didn’t come here for all this mess!” Spectacle! That’s late Capitalist culture. Image! Spectacle! Superficiality! Titillation! Stimulation! All Aretha Franklin needs is a microphone. She sits down—is that right\, my sister?—she sits down at that piano and what does she do? Within three minutes she has touched you in parts of your soul you forgot about. Because she has mastered her craft and her technique in such a way\, but she’s there to give\, she’s there to enable\, she’s there to empower. She wants people to leave feeling as if they could take on death and its forms\, domination and its forms\, dogma and its forms\, and be ready to die with dignity\, physically\, and then hope your afterlife will be at work in the lives of those who come after. Oh\, what a great conception of what it is to be human! Black folk have no monopoly on this. This is a human thing\, across the board…. \n  \n  \nSorry to stop here. This is about halfway through his talk. It takes quite a while to transcribe it from the video\, I’m a day late in getting out this issue\, and this is about our normal length. Those of you with access to the Internet are encouraged to watch the whole lecture on YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aekb3ppKm5w&t=1813s). (JS) \n  \n  \nDr. West has taught at Yale\, Princeton and Harvard. He currently teaches at Union Theological Seminary in New York. 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-1-6-22/
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20220115
DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20220215
DTSTAMP:20260427T082810
CREATED:20220115T173921Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20220115T184819Z
UID:2543-1642204800-1644883199@openroadpdx.com
SUMMARY:Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue  1/15/22
DESCRIPTION:Hotei \n  \nOpen Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue \n  \n  January 15\, 2022 \n  \nLive light\, travel light\, spread the light\, be the light. \n—tag on Yogi Tea bag \n  \nEvery thing that lives is Holy. \n—William Blake \n  \nEach thought\, each action in the sunlight of awareness becomes sacred. In this light\, no boundary exists between the sacred and the profane. \n—Thich Nhat Hanh\, from Your True Home\, #269 \n  \nKen Margolis sent this poem by our friend Dennis Wiancko: \n  \n      Our Mother’s Prayer \n  \nOur Mother\, Whose name is Earth\, \nHallowed be Your ground \nAnd Your skies \nAnd Your rolling seas \n  \nYour gardens thrive; Your spirit alive \nThrough woodlands\, streams\, \nMountains and plains \nEverywhere \n  \nGrant us this day our needs for tomorrow \nAnd refresh us with Your living waters \n  \nForgive us our mistreatment \nAs we would forgive those who cause you harm \n  \nLift us from negligence\, and deliver us from greed\, \nFor Yours is the home\, and the beauty\, \nAnd the life that sustains us\, \nAnd we would love\, respect\, and care for You \nNow and ever\, ever forward. \n  \n—R. Dennis Wiancko 2016 \n* \n  \nKim sent a poem and some thoughts from the Dalai Lama.  \n  \n      Etiquette of Thought \n  \nWhen first you wake\, you may wonder \nwithout knowing. Dream work still rules. \nThen\, the coffee\, you begin to know \nwithout saying. The mind has a mind \nof its own. When others wake\, you may \nsay without asking\, caught in your own \nlittle world. But with luck\, a little grace\, \nyou may then ask and listen\, and by this \nblessing\, work your way back to wonder. \n  \n—Kim Stafford \n  \nHere is what a friend told me she learned from the Dalai Lama when he visited her nonprofit in India: \n  \nKindness brings joyfulness \nservice to others brings joyfulness \nwe are made for goodness \nthe gift of suffering makes us appreciate joy  \njoy is our work of giving joy to others \nhappiness is a result of kindness  \nwell being is a skill  \nwhile you are alive your life should be meaningful  \n  \n—Dalai Lama \n* \n  \n[There is a] marvelous story in the world of Zen Buddhism where the man is standing on the hill in the distance and a group of people come along and see him standing there and begin to wonder why he’s standing there. So they have quite a full discussion of the possibilities of what caused him to be standing there. When they finally  reach him\, they say we’ve been having this discussion about why you’re standing here. Which one of us is right? He says\, I have no reason. I’m just standing here. \n  \n—John Cage\, from Musicage: Cage Muses on Words Art Music\, p. 129 \n* \n  \nJason Beito shared this from his friend Steve Decker\, who recently released to Portland. Steve is a student of Siddha Yoga. \n  \nTo celebrate gratitude is to express gratitude. \n  \nThe origin of the word “sacrifice” is: “to make sacred.” \n  \n“Love is\, first and foremost\, sacrifice. More than passion\, romantic declarations\, or outer expressions of loyalty and faith. Where there is true love\, there is a willingness to give one’s essence in its service—whether as a mother who sacrifices for her children\, a leader for his country\, a seeker to his spiritual practices\, or an artist to his art.”—Siddha Yoga \n  \n“A man who enjoys what is given by the gods \nwithout offering something in return\, \nhe is a thief and lives in vain.”—the Vedas \n  \nLet’s make our lives Sacred. \n  \nThanks for what you give to me \nand to so many others. \n  \n—Jason Beito \n* \nFor me\, the beginning of each day is an important time. I like to find my way to what I call “The Golden World.” When I feel that I am “in” the Golden World\, everything is beautiful\, perfect\, miraculous. I silently say “thank you.” Thought and language fall away. Without a care in the world\, I feel slightly elated. I have no problems. No ambitions. No fears. No boundary. There is no distinction between “me” and “the world.” This nameless feeling is quite lovely. It’s Paradise.  \n  \nAs the day goes on\, and I get busy with various activities\, I like to take good care of my feelings of peace and love and happiness. I want to see everyone I meet\, including my plant and animal friends\, as the beautiful luminous beings we are. \n  \nI got a new book by Thich Nhat Hanh yesterday: Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet. It’s edited from his talks and writings by Sister True Dedication. I like this poem. It reminds me of a poem by Walt Whitman: \n  \nI have been looking for you\, my child\, \nSince the time when rivers and mountains still lay in obscurity. \nI was looking for you when you were still in a deep sleep\, \nAlthough the conch had many times \nEchoed in the ten directions. \nFrom our ancient mountain I looked at distant lands \nAnd recognized your steps on so many different paths. \nWhere are you going? \n  \nIn former lifetimes you have often taken my hand \nAnd we have enjoyed walking together. \nWe have sat for long hours at the foot of old pine trees. \nWe have stood side by side in silence \nListening to the sound of the wind softly calling us \nAnd looking up at the white clouds floating by. \nYou have picked up and given to me the first red autumn leaf \nAnd I have taken you through forests deep in snow. \nBut wherever we go\, we always return to our \nAncient mountain to be near to the moon and stars\, \nTo invite the great bell every morning to sound\, \nAnd help all beings to wake up. \n  \n—from “At the Edge of the Forest\,” by Thich Nhat Hanh \n  \n  \n      We Two\, How Long We Were Fool’d \n  \nWe two\, how long we were fool’d\, \nNow transmuted\, we swiftly escape as Nature escapes\, \nWe are Nature\, long have we been absent\, but now we return\, \nWe become plants\, trunks\, foliage\, roots\, bark\, \nWe are bedded in the ground\, we are rocks\, \nWe are oaks\, we grow in the openings side by side\, \nWe browse\, we are two among the wild herds spontaneous as any\, \nWe are two fishes swimming in the sea together\, \nWe are what locust blossoms are\, we drop scent around lanes mornings and evenings\, \nWe are also the coarse smut of beasts\, vegetables\, minerals\, \nWe are two predatory hawks\, we soar above and look down\, \nWe are two resplendent suns\, we it is who balance ourselves orbic and stellar\, we are as two comets\, \nWe prowl fang’d and four-footed in the woods\, we spring on prey\, \nWe are two clouds forenoons and afternoons driving overhead\, \nWe are seas mingling\, we are two of those cheerful waves rolling over each other and interwetting each other\, \nWe are what the atmosphere is\, transparent\, receptive\, pervious\, impervious\, \nWe are snow\, rain\, cold\, darkness\, we are each product and influence of the globe\, \nWe have circled and circled till we have arrived home again\, we two\, \nWe have voided all but freedom and all but our own joy. \n  \n—Walt Whitman \n  \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nFirst\, a disclaimer: These monthly musings of mine from Your True Home are appearing to me to be less worldly and philosophical and more self-absorbed than others’ entries. Maybe it’s okay; these ‘everyday wisdoms’ of Thich Nhat Hanh force me to be self-reflective\, and I guess its about time—-just a couple weeks away from turning 78\, I’m thinking maybe Socrates is right about the unexamined life. So. \n  \n#111-Taking Care of the Future \n“The future is being made out of the present\, so the best way to take care of the future is to take care of the present moment. This is logical and clear. Spending a lot of time speculating and worrying about the future is totally useless. We can only take care of our future by taking care of the present moment\, because the future is made out of only one substance: the present. Only if you are anchored in the present can you prepare well for the future.” \n  \nWhew\,  I’m in luck\, because I am not a planner\, not an organizer\, not a ‘projectionist.’  “Goals” is a foreign word to me. In my late 30s\, post divorce\, I took a business class for artists\, and the instructor asked us to write down our ‘short term goals\,’ and our ‘long term goals.’ Huh?!?!? What’s that? Okay- 1. to make enough money for my daughter and me\, and 2. to be rich and famous hahaha (groan\, yes\, I wrote that).  Next question: What is your business plan to accomplish these goals?  Umm\, well\, like in the card game of Hearts\, I’ll shoot the moon! Meaning\, I’ll just go all out\, risk everything\, and just do it!  Fortunately\, there was no grading in that class. \n  \nAnd my almost-80-year-old husband keeps asking almost-78-year-old me how long\, how many years\, I think we can stay in this house\, with its ever lengthening staircase\, menacing throw rugs nipping at our toes\, and acre of whining\, demanding property to care for. Well\, forever! Climbing those stairs twenty time a day keeps us strong; tripping on throw rugs is good practice for balance\, and…oh\, just look at this peony.  \n  \nI should be thinking of the future\, but I keep forgetting. If I try to think ahead I get sidetracked\, distracted by something that’s happening right then: OMG\, Lolo’s fur is sooo soft on my cheek. I’ve never had a dog whose fur smelled so sweet. And she’s an old dog. Don’t old dogs smell? Lolo\, you’re the sweetest.  \n  \nSame with anger\, resentment\, worry. I can be stewing away vigorously about something—that guy in front of me is flipping snow all over me from his snowshoes. I should tell him how to stop doing…OH! Look at this!! It’s snowing tiny flakes and they look like diamonds sparkling with the sun shining behind them. Or fireflies! Yeah\, fireflies\, blinking on and off… \n  \nBut back to Taking Care of the Future; I trust TNH\, but I don’t quite understand how being anchored in the present can prepare you well for the future. Doesn’t ‘anchored’ mean ‘stuck?’ Shouldn’t you replace ‘worrying’ with the more positive word\, ‘planning?’ How does noticing dog fur and snowflakes help me prepare for the future? I’m serious.  \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nHere is something I have been meditating on for some time now. \n       \nMercy and forgiveness. I used to think that these two kindnesses could only be truly given by those who you had wronged. But if we can’t forgive ourselves first\, the forgiveness given can not be truly accepted by us.  \n        \nThere recently came a time when I finally was able to forgive myself. I had hated the person I USED to be\, and for years kept doing this ritual of inner self abuse for the pain I had caused others.  \n         \nI had a good dose of my past life recently and I could not function in that way any longer. I no longer was that person. Confused\, I meditated.  \n  \nThis man that I am now would never do the things the old man would do. The very thought is unpalatable to me now in every way. A person that has gone through such a massive life reformation should be allotted a small dose of mercy\, a reprieve from sins of a damaged past life—a life that was poisoned from birth by people who were themselves abused. No one is to blame. No one. It is the world and if I have seen the change in myself others must see it too. I feel I have grown into a remorseful man\, guilty of what I did\, and extremely repentant. \n  \n—Rocky Hutchinson \n* \n  \n(Rocky’s words remind me of King Lear’s: “None does offend. None\, I say. None.”) (JS) \n  \nBelow is a quote from Alan Lightman (who wrote Einstein’s Dreams) that I have saved to my computer. Every so often I open the file and am inspired again by his vast vision.  \n  \n“The individual atoms\, cycled through wind and water and soil\, cycled through generations and generations of living creatures and minds\, will repeat and connect and make a whole out of parts. Although impermanent\, they make a permanence. Although scattered they make a totality.”  \n  \nIt reminds me that we don’t have to create or forge connections–everything is already in that state of union. It is just necessary to see past fog and illusion to the very interknit whole that we all are. Here are two poems of mine that express the same idea in slightly different ways. \n  \n  \nDirt’s Revelation \n  \nUnearthed in Sussex\, the now un-favored\, \nalmost forgotten word\, smeuse\, \ndescribing holes small animals make\, \npassageways through hedges and forest\, \nfrom lawn to lawn\, a hidey-hole\, smeuse\, \nthe unknown word once familiar\, \nnow waiting to be noticed\, little path \nin the dark from your heart to mine\, \nboth of us looking askance\, \npretending not to see but knowing \nall along this hidden world is life saving\, \nessential\, our worlds interwoven \nand dependent on the other. \nSmeuse\, word and passage\, \nis only an excuse \nwhere we pretend to be alone \nneeding connection. \nOh\, lovely play acting\, our face-saving \nlittle charm where we live as separate— \nbut the tunneling smeuse \nbetrays us in the dirt\, excavating \nthe truth of our necessary complicity \nand consummation. \n  \n  \nTime’s Velocity \n  \nThe water like glass\, we look  \nand see ourselves transparent\,  \nthen rippled and below \nare rounded rocks\, small fish.  \nCold eddies form around our hands  \nas we reach in trying to touch  \nthe reflected clouds\, ourselves\, a shadow. \nThe flow keeps moving farther and deeper  \nwhile the smell of water\, of time\, of glass  \nall mingle\, flaring our nostrils. \nWe wonder where have those hours gone\, \nnow years\, now memories we reach for\, \nso electric\, so evanescent. \n  \n—Deborah Buchanan \n* \n  \nHappy New Year. So glad to be here together. I’ve been thinking about New year’s resolutions.    \n  \nI’m living with a Young Thai woman in the household now. My son’s wife. In Thailand and other Buddhist cultures\, the New Year is highly celebrated with lights\, lanterns\, and joy. Of course it isn’t 30 degrees there and snowing.    \n  \nRather than resolutions about doing things\, they set intentions for how they want to be. Right intention is one of the paths on the eightfold path. Being in loving relationship with ourselves\, one another and with all beings on earth is what we are dedicated to on the Open Road. Here is something from the powerful bell hooks to give us a little boost for a new year:  \n   \nbell hooks died in December and her work is now celebrated in all sorts of arenas. She was an African American author\, teacher\, academic and social activist. In a career spanning four decades\, she has explored and written on a variety of themes including racism\, feminism\, culture and education. Her work has centered on identifying and challenging systems of oppression and discrimination which are based on race\, sex and class. In her last years she was most influenced by the teachings and life of Thich Nhat Hanh. Here is an excerpt from one of her talks where she speaks about her realization about the importance of Love as a practice for transformation.   \n  \nToward a Worldwide Culture of Love  \n  \nBY BELL HOOKS| JUNE 8\, 2021  \n  \n“Fundamentally\, the practice of love begins with acceptance—the recognition that wherever we are is the appropriate place to practice\, that the present moment is the appropriate time. But for so many of us our longing to love and be loved has always been about a time to come\, a space in the future when it will just happen\, when our hungry hearts will finally be fed\, when we will find love. . . ( She attended a conference that was more like a Love-In than an intellectual gathering about social justice and experienced a great shift). . .  Sacred presence was there\, a spirit of love and compassion like spring mist covered us\, and loving-kindness embraced me and my words. This is always the measure of mindful practice—whether we can create the conditions for love and peace in circumstances that are difficult\, whether we can stop resisting and surrender\, working with what we have\, where we are.”  \n  \nThe practice of love\, says bell hooks\, is the most powerful antidote to the politics of domination. She traces her thirty-year meditation on love\, power\, and Buddhism\, and concludes it is only love that transforms our personal relationships and heals the wounds of oppression.  \n  \nHer story makes me think about the shift that has taken place for all of us during performances in prison. When the production comes out of love and tolerance and caring during dialogue group then there is a magical transfer to creating a work of art that has meaning for us all.   \n  \nThis feeling seeps through our meditation and mindfulness conversation\, as we read together and reflect on our own practice\, alone but also together in a sangha that knows no walls. It is like our interbeing relationship with Thay as a writer and teacher; he is here because we are here\, responding with one another.  \n  \nin gratitude for your ongoing practice and presence everyone\,     \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n 
URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/meditation-mindfulness-dialogue-1-15-22/
END:VEVENT
END:VCALENDAR