January 7, 2021

Yesterday, January 6, 2021, a date which will live in infamy, the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by fascist forces aligned with the Republican Party. An armed mob of white people waving Trump signs and Confederate battle flags stormed the Capitol Building in Washington DC to block certification of the 2020 presidential election results.

The Republican rioters rampaged through the center of American democracy, vandalizing the chambers and offices owned by the American people and ransacking the symbolic public square of our nation’s history and culture.

The mob was formed and incited at a nearby Trump rally by President Trump himself, aided by other demagogues such as Mr. Trump’s personal lawyer Rudy Giuliani who called for “trial by combat.” Among the armed attackers were Proud Boy thugs, QAnon conspiracy fanatics, and terrorists who placed two pipe bombs nearby and who came prepared with rifles and Molotov cocktails. Hours after the violence subsided, President Trump released a video in which he tried to have it both ways, telling the assailants to go home and adding, “We love you.”

This right wing assault on democracy must not be allowed to stand. There have been calls by Democrats and even some Republicans for President Trump to be impeached again and for the 25th Amendment to be activated to forcibly remove him from office. These measures are unlikely to occur in his 13 remaining days in office. But I fervently hope that once he is out of the White House, that he is arrested and imprisoned for treason and corruption. And I hope that he and many of his fellow Republican traitors get long prison terms for their assault on the United States Constitution and their attempt to overthrow American democracy and the will of the people.

There are many individuals and groups to blame in this debacle: Messrs. Trump and Giuliani, Republican enablers such as Mitch McConnell and Mike Pence, social media platforms such as Facebook and Twitter which are complicit in allowing toxic misinformation to spread widely, right wing news media such as Fox News, conspiracy groups such as QAnon, the gun lobby, and the unprepared Capitol Police.

To be fair, many of the Republican rabble roused by Mr. Trump have been brainwashed by social media and by right wing media. They believe Mr. Trump’s lies about a supposedly fraudulent election, and they’ve been told that they are defending democracy and the Constitution by protesting a stolen election. Most of them are decent human beings. I know, because two of my family members and two friends are Trump supporters. Even so, ignorance is no excuse for fanaticism, and people need to take responsibility for their education or lack thereof.

Also in fairness, it is not only conservatives who engage in violence and anti democratic behavior. On November 7, 1983, a bomb exploded in the U.S. Senate, a device placed by the radical left wing group Resistance Conspiracy. On March 1, 1954, four Puerto Rican nationalists opened fire in the House of Representatives, wounding five congressmen. Sometimes anarchists in antiwar demonstrations or Black Lives Matter protests have engaged in looting, vandalism, and assaults against police and other citizens.

Yes, we need law and order, and yes, we need strict gun control. We also need greater regulation of social media and news media to require them to stop spreading false information and conspiracy theories. And we need to restrict hate speech from politicians and extremists.

But our problems are deeper than political issues. Spiritual and cultural decay at the root of American society are the real causes of social unrest and economic inequality. The cult of selfish individualism encourages greed and corruption, leading to mass poverty and environmental destruction. Honesty, kindness, and generosity of spirit are held hostage by fear and by the American gun and money religions. We need to find a better balance between capitalism and the good of the community and the Earth. We need a new vision of morality.

In the short term, our nation is under attack from Republican extremists driven by fear, greed, hunger for power, and ignorance. We need to defend ourselves by voting, educating ourselves and each other, and appreciating and protecting our democratic inheritance.

But in the long run we need to raise our consciousness as individuals and as a people by recognizing the oneness of all Americans and all human beings, and by taking better care of each other and of our planet.

Almost 80 years ago President Franklin Roosevelt rallied the American people by denouncing the December 7 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor as a “date which will live in infamy.” Let’s hope that yesterday’s Republican attack on democracy will serve as a catalyst to awaken the American people to the dangers within our body politic and our culture.

December 15, 2020

“I will insist that the Hebrews have done more to civilize men than any other nation.” President John Adams, 1809

Sometimes, when we lose something or are about to experience loss, we realize that we should appreciate that which we have taken for granted. That’s why I wrote my last blog essay, A Wonderful Life (December 7), and the one before that, Thanksgiving Expectations (November 23). And that’s why I’m writing about Jews today.

According to USA Today, on December 8 the only American memorial to Anne Frank was vandalized with swastikas in Boise, Idaho. My first reactions were disgust, anger, and sadness, in that order. I guess I took it personally because I’ve visited the Amsterdam home of Anne and her family where they hid from the Nazis and where she wrote her charming and endearing diary. She died in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp at the age of 15, one of one million Jewish children murdered by the Nazis.

While I hope that the vandals who desecrated Anne’s memorial are caught and punished, along with the perpetrators of other hate crimes, our democracy is being threatened not just by thugs but by something more insidious: ignorance. People are willing to believe conspiracy theories and other false narratives because they are uneducated, gullible, and looking for scapegoats to blame for their problems and inadequacies. And Jews are convenient targets because they are relatively few in number yet arouse jealousy because of their educational and professional achievements.

But rather than bemoaning what I don’t like in the news, I decided to read something positive about Jewish contributions to humanity. The Gifts of the Jews by Thomas Cahill focuses most of its appreciation on the early bestowals of the Jews upon Western civilization, rather than their contemporary largesse toward the human race. So I’ll make my own observations about current Jewish magnanimity in a moment.

Cahill may be engaging in a bit of hyperbole when he claims that the Jews are “the inventors of Western culture” – what about the Greeks? – but otherwise his praise seems justified. Among the philosophical offerings that Jews have made to how we humans see ourselves are monotheism (the idea that there is a higher intelligence governing the universe, rather than competing and combative gods and goddesses); the moral behavioral code of the Ten Commandments; freedom (from slavery and from predetermined fate); the idea of people as individuals with unique destinies (not just as tribal members); social justice; and the concepts of progress, change, and hope for the future.

Cahill states that “most of our best words – new, adventure, surprise; unique, individual, person, vocation; time, history, future; freedom, progress, spirit; faith, hope, justice – are the gifts of the Jews.”

He adds that Jews originated the ideas that we should pursue justice for everyone, not just people in our own tribe, and that if we don’t help those in need, including the hungry, the powerless, and the marginalized, we are rejecting God.

And that brings me to what I like about the Jews.

The Jews in the U.S. and elsewhere are a generous people. If you watch PBS programs or listen to NPR, you’ll notice that the names of most of the benefactors are Jewish. A high percentage of the donors to museums, universities, and hospitals are Jewish. Philanthropy is a big part of the Jewish religion and culture, and Jewish social services support people in need from all backgrounds. Too bad that Jews aren’t Catholic, because if they were, many of them would be recognized as saints.

I also deeply respect the Jewish emphasis on the importance of education. In my view, this is the key to their success and a model for the rest of us to emulate. (See the Travel tab on this website’s home page and click on the drop down menu for my Israel essay, “Snorkeling in Jerusalem,” which addresses this subject and related topics).

Thomas Cahill quotes biblical scholar Nahum Sarna acknowledging the importance of study to the Jews as “the universal duty of continuous self-education.” Cahill says that ancient Israel was “the first human society to so value education and the first to envision it as a universal pursuit – and a democratic obligation that those in power must safeguard.”

Creativity? Per capita, Jewish writers, filmmakers, comedians, and scientists probably surpass those of any other culture, religion, or ethnic group in the world.

Humanity needs more Anne Franks: idealistic, creative, resilient, resourceful people. The kind of people who just might be able to help heal the benighted souls who defaced a memorial to a 15 year old girl.

As Anne said in her diary, “I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.”

Happy Hanukkah.

December 7, 2020

I know, I know – we shouldn’t judge other people. After all, we don’t have all the facts about their current life circumstances or their childhood and family dynamics, not to mention their karma or soul agendas. But screw it – I feel qualified to judge my friend Kay, and I judge her just-completed life to have been a glorious success.

I first met Kay in high school in 1969, when she was 15 and I was 17. We had both just started practicing Nichiren Buddhism, and we used to get together before or after school to chant our mantra, Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. She was a bubbly teenager who laughed a lot, though years later she told me that before she started chanting she had been depressed most of the time. I still find it hard to visualize her as depressed, because for the 51 years I knew her she was Ms. Sunshine, radiating enthusiasm and positive energy wherever she went.

Kay had her share of ups and downs, but she was resilient and unsinkable. She seemed to have access to what Herman Melville described in Moby Dick as an “insular Tahiti,” an inner place of serenity that allowed her to bounce back from whatever disappointments life might present to her.

I saw that resilience first hand in 1972, when she and I found our hopeful if unrealistic expectations dashed against the reefs of reality. We desperately wanted to go on a tozan (pilgrimage) to our sect’s head temple in Japan to attend what we were told would be an epoch-making event: the opening of the Sho Hondo (palace of world peace). But our group pilgrimage was fully booked. That didn’t stop us, though. With the can-do spirit of our Nichiren practice and American optimism, Kay and I showed up at the San Francisco airport with our bags packed, passports in hand, resplendent in our blue polyester tozan uniforms, chanting for a last minute miracle that failed to materialize. Crushed, we watched the plane take off without us. After a bit of time feeling sorry for ourselves for having missed out on that history-making extravaganza, we decided to celebrate our defeat by having chocolate fondue with fruit at an outdoor table at Bernini’s restaurant off of Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley. We later donated our tozan plane fare to our Nichiren lay organization. In our view, we had practiced hendoku iyaku (changing poison to medicine).

But if Buddhism brought us together, it also drove us apart for many years. In 1981, feeling disillusioned with what I felt was group-think, mindless conformity, and a cult of personality in our Japanese religion, I wrote a 50 page manifesto urging democratic reforms and transparency in our movement. Our Japanese leaders were not amused, and Kay didn’t approve either. I was banned from our Nichiren community center, and eventually left the organization while continuing my individual practice. Kay remained a true believer in the SGI (Soka Gakkai International) organization. We didn’t argue about or even discuss our religious differences; we simply went our separate ways for about 18 years.

Then in 1999 I ran into Kay’s mother Eleanor in the produce section of Raley’s supermarket in Santa Rosa. Delighted to see Eleanor after the passage of decades, I was shocked to learn that Kay had just been diagnosed with the most aggressive kind of breast cancer and had been told that she only had months to live. Devastated by the thought of losing my old friend, I called her immediately, and we laughed and laughed as we caught up and swapped stories from our teen years. We didn’t acknowledge our different approaches to Buddhist practice; we simply moved forward from that moment on.

And from that moment we’ve been close friends again, through my visits to her in Seattle and her visiting me in the Bay Area, as well as innumerable and lengthy phone calls and emails. Throughout that time she has courageously faced and overcome bouts of cancer, until it finally claimed her life two weeks ago.

Since her death on November 22 I’ve been reflecting, by myself and during her pandemic-necessitated memorial on Zoom, on what made her so special – what was her secret sauce, or the source of her light? If you had asked her that question, she would have attributed her strong life force to her Buddhist practice of chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. And I would have to agree with that assessment. However, I think there’s an additional explanation for her joie de vivre, her exuberant nature, her ebullient personality, her sunny disposition. She deliberately intended, she consciously chose, she was determined to be happy herself and to be kind and compassionate to others. Call it positive thinking or buoyancy or what you will, Kay made up her mind to be the woman she became: joyful, big-hearted, generous. Her chanting became the means to direct her energy and passion. Believe me, most Nichiren Buddhists are nowhere near as enlightened as Kay was. But one of her leaders advised his followers to “resolve to be the sun,” and Kay took that advice to heart and put it into practice. Kay Rynerson McCabe became the sun around which her family and friends revolved. She illuminated us with her wisdom and her laughter. She made Pollyanna look like a pessimist. Pollyanna could learn a lot about optimism and positive thinking from Kay. So could we all.

I’ve loved Kay for 51 years, but I’m glad we never dated or married each other. With our strong personalities, we would have experienced two solar eclipses. But as platonic friends, I’m grateful to have been inspired by her courage and her zest for life, and her devotion to her husband, kids, and grandkids.

A week before she died, I asked her about her thoughts about death and rebirth. We both believe in reincarnation, but I was curious about what she thought might happen to her. She told me that she’d like to be reborn in India because the women wear such colorful clothes, and I learned from someone else that Kay also wants her next lifetime to be in India so that she can work there for women’s rights. Classic Kay – have fun, and be in service to others.

At her Zoom memorial Kay’s husband Dennis told the story of how, when the two of them would ride their bikes past a nearby neighborhood mural or artwork called the Wall of Death, they would sometimes drop their pants and “moon” Death. Nothing like irreverent humor to put death in its proper place: as part of life.

When Dennis called to tell me of Kay’s passing, he said that her last words were something to the effect of how she was riding her bicycle along a pathway through a field of flowers.

Now that’s what I call a beautiful ending to a life well lived.

November 23, 2020

Sometimes we need a holiday to remind us that it’s OK to be contented. And sometimes it takes a book to help us remember that we don’t always need to improve ourselves.

Like many people in the Western world, I have my share of self improvement projects. One of those endeavors recently has been to read or re-read the great classics of Western literature. God forbid that I should read fine books just for the fun of it. Luckily, I’ve got more time on my hands right now because of a job furlough resulting from the coronavirus. So the other day I started reading Great Expectations by Charles Dickens.

That novel is about a dirt-poor orphaned English boy named Pip who is determined to rise out of poverty and make a better life for himself. He describes himself as “restlessly aspiring, discontented me.” His wish to better his circumstances comes true when he comes into an unexpected small fortune, enabling him to become a young gentleman. But with money comes arrogance and the abandoning of his friends, causing him to eventually learn that higher social status is not the same thing as happiness.

The irony is not lost on me that in my own “restlessly aspiring” quest to accumulate knowledge and bag another literary trophy, my great intellectual expectations (pretensions?) may simply be another way of filling a “discontented” void. That is, since I ain’t rich, maybe I’ll feel better about myself if I can rattle off a bunch of highbrow books I’ve read. And hey – it does feel virtuous to finally read a great classic that I’ve heard about all my life. So even if my motive for pursuing Dickens, Tolstoy, and Emerson is just bragging rights, what’s the harm in that? Desires can lead to enlightenment, if for no other reason than we may discover, as Pip did, that achieving our desires leads to temporary fulfillment but not long lasting satisfaction.

So, like Pip, I’ve decided this Thanksgiving week to appreciate what I already have. And since our country and our democracy are in grave danger from political extremism and fanaticism, not to mention Covid 19, economic disruption, and climate change, I intend to appreciate American institutions and legacies while we still have them.

For that reason, I give thanks to the flawed geniuses who created this imperfect and wonderful country. I especially honor General Washington, whose perseverance against overwhelming odds, especially through the terrible winter at Valley Forge, allowed us to establish a government of, by, and for the people. And I greatly respect President Washington for declining the opportunity to be president for life, unlike our would-be dictator currently occupying the White House, who is desperately clinging to and refusing to relinquish power.

I give thanks to President Abraham Lincoln, who successfully guided us through a bloody civil war, and who established our Thanksgiving tradition in 1863 in gratitude for the victory of the Union Army at the battle of Gettysburg. And I appreciate Lincoln for establishing Yosemite as the first national park on Planet Earth (Yellowstone officially has that distinction because it was called a national park, but Lincoln set aside Yosemite as a park years before Yellowstone was designated as such). We have the first, and still the best, national park system in the world, thanks to people like Lincoln, Theodore Roosevelt, and John Muir.

I give thanks to President Franklin Roosevelt for Social Security and unemployment insurance, and for leading us through the Great Depression and World War II. I give thanks to President John F. Kennedy for keeping us safe during the Cuban missile crisis. And I give thanks to President Lyndon Johnson for Medicare and for civil rights legislation.

I give thanks for the health care workers on the front lines of the coronavirus pandemic. I appreciate the police, who help us maintain a veneer of civilization in these crazy times. And I’m grateful to the firefighters and other first responders here in California for protecting us from the awful wildfires that are being made so much worse by global warming.

I give thanks for journalists who tell the truth, and for our legal system that has resisted efforts at a political coup, and for those profiles in courage, Democrats and Republicans alike, who have defended our constitution and stood up for free and fair elections.

I also give thanks to my parents, who taught me lessons in tolerance, generosity, and unconditional love.

When I was a boy and a young man like Pip, I too had wishful fantasies about how my hopes and dreams would play out. Truth be told, I still harbor some possibly unrealistic preferred outcomes, and in spite of many disappointments I’m reluctant to let them go. But I’m learning to accept the things that I can’t change. At this stage of my life my expectations may not be as great as they once were, but my appreciation has increased significantly. And like Pip at the end of the novel, my ambition is to be filled with affection and an inner moral conscience, no matter what is happening in the external world.

So, dear readers, on this upcoming day of Thanksgiving, may we all be contented with our lives and enjoy and appreciate our families, friends, and country.

November 6, 2020

It looks like President Trump will soon be officially vanquished in his bid for a second term. As of this writing it appears that, once all the ballots have been counted, Joe Biden will win the popular vote by about five million votes and will handily win the Electoral College. While I’m pleased with that result, I’m surprised to realize that I continue to learn a lot from Mr. Trump.

That realization dawned on me this morning as I listened to Insight Meditation teacher Gil Fronsdal speak live via YouTube to several hundred meditation students. The subject of his talk was Right Speech, one of the instructions of the Buddha about how to live wisely and compassionately.

According to Fronsdal, Right Speech (or Wise Speech) is wholesome, inspiring, and helpful. He said that we should use words that bring concord (peace and harmony) and words that help to unify people. He added that recognizing and telling the truth are important aspects of Right Speech, and are a big part of mindfulness practice. In fact, he said, mindfulness and truthfulness are synonymous; honesty is mindfulness out loud.

The opposite of Right Speech, he went on, is to speak falsely, divisively, harshly, and hurtfully. Alternatively, Right Speech is a social teaching about how we can live together harmoniously. Smiling, he added that truth is more important than who will be president.

You can probably see where I’m going with this essay. But before I get back to Mr. Trump, allow me to acknowledge my own challenges in the wise speech department.

In private conversations I can be very direct and even blunt, and if I’m angry then my bluntness can be hurtful. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, of course, but I have done so at times. So to avoid offending anyone, I sometimes express my displeasure behind their back, rationalizing my complaining by saying to myself that what they don’t know won’t hurt them. I can think of three individuals with whom I have polite if unsatisfactory relationships, and about whom I have vented to others. But Fronsdal asks, how do you speak about people behind their backs? If they heard you, would they be hurt? He’s holding us to a higher standard of conduct than I sometimes practice, so clearly I have some work to do.

But I don’t believe that I’m being hypocritical by criticizing President Trump, because I’m well aware of my own shortcomings and am actively addressing them. Mr. Trump, on the other hand, is a very public figure who courts controversy and chaos and appears to be disdainful of self reflection as being what he considers to be a sign of weakness. He is a case study in Wrong Speech: constant falsehoods, blame, rage, and divisive and hateful rants. If he were a private citizen I could ignore his relentless negativity, but as President of the United States he is a threat to the peace and security of this nation and the world. Even so, he is teaching us how fragile democracy can be and how much we have taken for granted: the need for civility, respect, honesty, and kindness.

We the people have voted that damaged soul out of office, but that’s only the first step. We need to rebuild our country after the devastation that Mr. Trump and his fanatical followers have inflicted, not by hating them but by becoming better citizens and better human beings ourselves. Elections will not solve our problems. A better economy and a vaccine for Covid 19 will not solve our problems. Confronting China, Russia, and other authoritarian countries may be necessary but still won’t solve our problems.

We all need to heal ourselves. Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus, and atheists need to find a spiritual solution to the greed and selfishness that threaten our very survival on this planet. We can’t outsource the solution to politicians. Joe Biden can’t save us. We have to save ourselves.

I don’t know what the future of the human race or Planet Earth will be. But I’m grateful to my many teachers, including Gil Fronsdal and Donald Trump, for reminding me that the best way for me to contribute to a better America and a better world is to heal my own shadow and be kinder to everyone I meet. I can’t fix our political, economic, or environmental problems, but I can wake up to face the truth of my responsibility to live more wisely and compassionately.

October 30, 2020

I think I know who’s going to win the election this Tuesday. But I’m afraid that, whoever wins, we all might lose. Regardless of the outcome, I intend to rise above my inevitable anger, disgust, and fear, and keep my eye on the prize.

If the state and national polls are more accurate than they were in 2016, Joe Biden and the Democrats will win in a landslide. But there has already been widespread voter suppression by the Trump campaign and the Republican party, and there is a very real possibility of voter intimidation and even violence at some of the polling places. I hope it will be a peaceful and fair election with a rapid conclusion and a smooth transition to a new administration. But if we know one thing about Donald Trump, it’s that he is not a gracious loser. My concern is that, in the aftermath of the election, he and his more radical true believers might try to cling to power by sowing even more seeds of discord and hatred than they already have, thereby tearing the country further apart for weeks and possibly months and even, God forbid, leading to armed clashes in the streets.

Should this worst case scenario occur, or even if it doesn’t, we may be in for a rough ride. The American people have been badly divided for the last four years, but even before President Trump we experienced political, class, and racial tensions. Add a pandemic, economic woes, and climate change to that mix, and we’re left with a volatile and even combustible social milieu.

I hold Mr. Trump personally responsible for most of the chaos, animosity, and division that his presidency has engendered thus far, and for whatever mayhem might follow the election. Having said that, it must be acknowledged that he still manages to enjoy the support of 40-45% of Americans, which means that he is a reflection of a very large minority of our fellow citizens. In other words, as toxic as he may be, he is truly representative of the state of our disunion. In that sense, he is us. And we – Mr. Trump and the rest of us – are indicative of the primitive state of human evolution on this planet.

But evolve we must. No matter what happens on November 3 or in the weeks and months that follow, I believe that it’s essential for our mental and spiritual health that we stay positive. I hope to elevate my perspective by letting go of my attachment to the way I think things “should” be, and instead allow events and people to be the way they are at this time.

That doesn’t mean that I’m giving up hope.

One strategy I have for keeping my spirits up is to read uplifting stories and watch upbeat movies. Recently my friend Kay recommended two wonderful non-fiction books. Adrift is the true story of Steven Callahan, a sailor who survived 76 days alone on a raft in the Atlantic. An amazingly resourceful young man, he endured great suffering by maintaining hope in the face of terrible conditions. And I’m currently reading the second book, A Woman of No Importance, about World War II American spy Virginia Hall, a heroic disabled woman who aided the French resistance behind enemy lines in Nazi-occupied France.

Tomorrow or the next day I’ll re-watch Lincoln, directed by Steven Spielberg and starring Daniel Day-Lewis as my favorite president. And if Tuesday’s election turns out badly or drags on interminably, I’ll re-read and re-watch The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, more stories of courage in the face of overwhelming odds; hopeless quests that turn out well.

I do hope that Joe Biden prevails in his long quest for the presidency, because unlike his opponent, he appeals to the “better angels of our nature,” in the words of Abraham Lincoln. But regardless of the electoral outcome, I aspire to live up to Lincoln’s compassionate approach to his defeated enemies: “With malice toward none; with charity for all.”

October 12, 2020

For the last couple of days I’ve been irritated with my next door neighbor and landlord Mike because he put some ugly junk in my backyard. Not only was I annoyed by the introduction of these eyesores into the redwoods and ivy, but I also resented the intrusion of his stuff into my space. Yes, he owns the property, but I pay rent to enjoy my apartment and the area behind it. Feeling very territorial, I decided this morning to confront him about the situation.

But first, I did my daily meditation and chanting, and those practices calmed me. I realized that I was more likely to gain Mike’s cooperation by having a pleasant chat on another topic first rather than abruptly complaining about the invasion of his foreign objects. A few minutes later I saw him outside and approached him in the way I just described. To my relief he agreed that the old stove, boxes, and beat-up table are not a pretty sight, and he assured me that he had only placed them there temporarily while he decides what to do with them. He promised to move them soon. (And later, just as I was completing this essay, he did so).

While pleased with the denouement of this tempest in a teapot, I know that such mini conflicts in my life are more common than I might like to think. I’m aware that I’m opinionated, but what’s worse is how attached I am to my opinions as well as how attached I am to my perceived need to defend my beliefs.

In a recent phone conversation with my dear friend Kay we were discussing how population growth affects one’s quality of life. She said that since population growth is inevitable, we should increase housing density in suburbs for environmental and ethnic diversity reasons. Horrified, I said that population growth is inevitable only if we do nothing about it. I started to get really angry, then caught myself. In that moment I understood that even if I’m right about overpopulation, why was I starting to get so riled up about it? And is my opinion more important than my relationship with one of my best friends? I quickly backed off my argument before it turned into a rant, and to her credit Kay let me off the hook.

Still, I had to wonder: are my ego and its beliefs that fragile? Why is it so important for me to promote or protect my opinions? Then I recalled something that another close friend, Phil, once said: “Whenever there’s an argument about politics, it’s not really about politics. It’s about feeling powerless.” And what part of us feels powerless? The ego. Our essence or soul or higher self knows that our bodies, possessions, and circumstances are impermanent, so it’s best to let go of our attachment to “me and mine” and instead embrace the wisdom that everything is “us and ours.”

Yeah, I know – I’m not that generous or kind yet, and maybe you aren’t either. But at least we can start by asking ourselves: Who am I? Who, or what, is my Self? Am I my opinions, or is there more to me than meets the I?

Earlier this week I came across a Buddhist parable that speaks to the questions of identity, attachments, and transience. It’s called Sand Castles:

Some children were playing beside a river. They made castles of sand, and each child defended his castle and said, “This one is mine.” They kept their castles separate and would not allow any mistakes about which was whose.

When the castles were all finished, one child kicked over someone else’s castle and completely destroyed it. The owner of the castle flew into a rage, pulled the other child’s hair, struck him with his fist and bawled out, “He has spoiled my castle! Come along all of you and help me to punish him as he deserves.” The others all came to his help. They beat the child with a stick and then stamped on him as he lay on the ground.

Then they went on playing in their sand castles, each saying, “This is mine; no one else may have it. Keep away! Don’t touch my castle!” But evening came; it was getting dark and they all thought they ought to be going home. No one now cared what became of his castle. One child stamped on his, another pushed his over with both hands. Then they turned away and went back, each to his home. (Translated by Arthur Waley)

Kinda makes you think that in the grand scheme of things, our attachment to objects and beliefs is rather petty.

But I must confess that after I read the parable a third or fourth time, it occurred to me that the brat that kicked over someone else’s castle and got his ass kicked got what he deserved. Served the little bastard right.

So as you can see, I’m not as evolved as the Buddha. It’s still my backyard and my sand castle, god dammit. But at least I’m starting to ask the right questions.

September 27, 2020

I’m not a Christian. I don’t believe in hell or Satan. I think that Donald Trump is an Antichrist. Let me explain.

According to Wikipedia, the Antichrist is a person prophesied by the Bible to oppose Christ and substitute himself in Christ’s place before the Second Coming. I don’t believe in the Antichrist or in the Second Coming, so I don’t believe that Trump is the Antichrist. But I do think that the current President of the United States embodies the opposite of the teachings of Jesus Christ, and in that sense he is an Antichrist.

Several years ago I traveled to Israel, Egypt, and Jordan to experience the history, religions, and cultures of those countries. I was especially curious to see what I could learn about the life and teachings of Jesus, so I read several books about him before I visited Nazareth, the Sea of Galilee, and Jerusalem. I’m still not sure whether Jesus was primarily a political revolutionary or an enlightened spiritual teacher, or both. I don’t believe that he died for my sins. But whether he was merely an important historical figure or whether he was a messenger from God, my sense is that everything he stood for is the polar opposite of what Donald Trump represents.

When I ponder the message and nature of Jesus, I imagine a man of great humility and compassion. A man who loved people, who wanted to teach them how to access their inner divinity so that they could learn to be one with God. A man who believed in helping others, especially the poor and the sick. A man of integrity and decency, who knew that character and behavior have consequences. A man who was honest and courageous, who honored other people, a profoundly good man. A man, in other words, who had nothing in common with the current occupant of the White House.

Yet many evangelical Christians and Catholics are among Trump’s most ardent supporters. Why? Apparently because Trump, who like Ronald Reagan was pro-choice on abortion until he ran for president, is appointing anti-abortion justices to the Supreme Court in order to get the votes of the evangelicals and conservative Catholics. The Bible says nothing about abortion, yet for reasons that are not clear to me, some Christians have decided that the death penalty is OK, as is war, but abortion is against God’s will.

As much as I dislike Trump for his endless lying, insults, corruption, incompetence, abuse of journalists, threats of violence, racial dog whistles, undermining of democratic institutions, denial of climate change, and profound indecency, I have to wonder whether he might actually be representative of our collective unconscious. That is, maybe Trump accurately reflects the perverted state of the human race at this stage of our development. If so, he may be a teacher whose lessons we will have to learn the hard way as a step in our evolution.

For that reason, maybe we need the Adolf Hitlers, Joseph Stalins, Mao ZeDongs, Kim Jong Uns, Vladimir Putins, and Donald Trumps of the world to remind us of what we must not become. Maybe an Antichrist Trump is helping to prepare the way for the emergence of the collective Christ consciousness on Planet Earth by discrediting his antithesis of Christian teachings. If that’s the case, then by definition Donald Trump really is the Antichrist.

Oh wait – I don’t believe in the Antichrist. Never mind.

Although I detest the yellow-haired, orange-faced con man at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, I truly feel sorry for him. Imagine being that insecure, that cynical, that cruel and greedy, that responsible for the unnecessary deaths of tens of thousands of Americans due to his Covid negligence and deceptions. If you believe, as I do, that upon our death each of us will be compassionately helped and guided to review our just-completed life and the positive and negative consequences of our actions in that life, then you can imagine the chagrin, the deep sorrow, the pain, and the despair that Donald Trump will experience at death as he comes to understand how much negative karma he has created for himself and how much harm he has inflicted upon his country and upon humanity.

For now we have the delicious irony that Mr. Trump, who makes a mockery of the teachings of Jesus, is the standard bearer for the Christian right; the delicious irony that a prince of darkness is the champion of many Christian true believers.

Regardless of the outcome of the November 3rd election, it will be interesting to see which brand of Christianity will prevail: the decency of Joe Biden’s version, or the hypocrisy of Donald Trump’s dystopia. Positive or negative, may the best spiritual outcome for humanity prevail.

September 7, 2020

How did a ferocious killer transform himself into a kind, generous, beloved community leader?

This was the question I found myself asking in the last couple weeks as I read Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, by S.C. Gwynne.

Like most Americans, I had heard of the Comanches, a tough Plains Indian tribe that dominated much of Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado, New Mexico, and northern Mexico in the 18th and 19th centuries. Unlike most Americans, I had also heard of Quanah Parker, the son of a captive white mother and her Comanche warrior husband. What I did not know until I read the book was how vicious and barbaric the Comanches were in their dealings with other Indian tribes and with the Spanish, Mexicans, and Americans.

Growing up with a romanticized image of the noble Red Man, I idealized my childhood paragons Cochise of the Chiricahua Apaches and Crazy Horse of the Oglala Lakota Sioux. Yes, I knew that they were violent and even bloodthirsty, but I justified their aggressiveness as a necessary trait in the defense of their people and lands against invading Americans. However, even I was shocked recently as I read about the sadistic practices of the Comanches and their Indian enemies. Not only did they routinely slaughter and enslave one another, but they took great pleasure in torturing, mutilating, dismembering, and gang raping their Indian and white opponents. And as a feared Comanche war chief, Quanah Parker was no exception to such mayhem.

As author S.C. Gwynne said in a passing reference to my Lakota champion, “Crazy Horse was undoubtedly heroic in battle and remarkably charitable in life. But as an Oglala Sioux he was also a raider, and raiding meant certain very specific things, including the abuse of captives. His great popularity – a giant stone image of him is being carved from a mountain in South Dakota – may have a great deal to do with the fact that very little is known about his early life. He is free to be the hero we want him to be.”

Quanah was a cruel slayer of other Indians, but he especially hated white men because they had killed his father and recaptured his mother. Yet once he decided that it was in the interest of his people to surrender rather than face extermination, this fierce, vengeful butcher changed his attitude overnight. He realized that, for better or worse, the future of the Comanches was in becoming Americans, and so he chose to take advantage of any opportunities that he could envision. His life on the reservation was never easy – he had political, financial, and marital problems – but he consciously chose to maintain a positive attitude no matter what injustices he encountered. He eventually became wealthy, and developed a friendship with President Theodore Roosevelt, even hosting Roosevelt at his large reservation home.

But Quanah’s first priority was always taking care of his people. He gradually gave away all his wealth to his fellow Comanches, in the form of food, cattle, and horses, and as a result he died a poor man.

What was the secret to Quanah Parker’s reinvention of himself from Comanche cutthroat to American benefactor? According to S.C. Gwynne, “What Quanah had that the rest of his tribe in the later years did not was that most American of human traits: boundless optimism. Quanah never looked back, an astonishing feat of will for someone who had lived in such untrammeled freedom on the open plains, and who had endured such a shattering transformation. In hard times he looked resolutely forward to something better.”

Not a bad lesson for those of us living in hard times today.

August 27, 2020

This past week my brother’s house burned down in the California wildfires. I prepared to evacuate because of those same fires. My mother entered hospice, my friend Cris came home from the hospital and is recovering from Covid 19, and a family member continues her slow recovery from the coronavirus after four months. There are more race riots, this time in Wisconsin and elsewhere, and the Republican convention declared that everything is going so well in the U.S. that Trump deserves another four years in the White House.

My response? Appreciation.

It may sound like denial, to put on a happy face while my home state is burning, family members are suffering, Covid 19 wrecks the economy, climate change is wreaking havoc worldwide, racial tensions explode into violence, and refugees flee war and poverty.

But I can only take so much negativity in the news before I start to feel depressed or angry or both. And my disgust and despair do not lead to positive action, but rather they cause me to feel cynical and hopeless about the state of the human race.

So I practice mindfulness. Whenever I notice that I’m feeling sorry for myself or for the world, I try to remember to shift my focus and pay attention to what is going right in my life. And I have a lot to be thankful for.

My health is excellent. I have a wonderful family and friends. I live in a beautiful area. I have enough money. My country and planet are going through some tough times, but even if things deteriorate, there’s still a lot of beauty in nature, as I rediscover every time I go hiking along the California coast.

Perhaps most importantly, I’ve learned to regain a sense of wonder, even awe, at the mystery, love, and joy that I sense underlying the universe and life all around me. We are so fortunate to have the opportunity to be in Classroom Earth, to learn our life lessons while we evolve and reconnect with our souls and with the god Force. Call it what you will: Christ consciousness, buddha nature, a higher power. Whatever it is, something is propelling humanity forward beyond our ignorance and self destructiveness toward the evolution of our collective consciousness.

Yeah, yeah, I know – you’d never guess that human beings are evolving if you watch or read about the Republican convention. Even many conservatives are appalled by the fear mongering and paranoia being promoted by the conspiracy theories and personality cult around Donald Trump. But some people, and some nations, have to learn their lessons the hard way. It’s difficult to watch individuals and societies behave so stupidly. But hey – who am I to judge? I’ve certainly created enough karma to last many lifetimes, and yet here I am, still learning, still growing, still screwing up, and still being treated with compassion by someone or something. If the universe can forgive me for my foolishness, I suppose I ought to offer the same understanding and patience to others who are behaving badly. But it ain’t easy to be that kind.

I imagine that my life will keep getting better, except when it gets worse. For now, though, I intend to follow the advice of the 13th century sage Nichiren: “Suffer what there is to suffer, enjoy what there is to enjoy, and continue (your Buddhist practice).”

Acceptance and appreciation – my tickets to feelin’ groovy.