5. Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet

Reverence for Life in the Face of Anger and Violence

Welcome!

I’m so glad you’re here for our buddy read of Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet. In case you’ve missed previous dispatches you can read previous posts here.

This Week’s Pages:

This week, we delve into the art of mindful living—not as a tool for material gain, but as a path to be walked upon with every step. With Thay’s guidance, we explore the first of the five mindfulness trainings: Reverence for Life - advocating for non-violence and deep compassion. This principle invites us to cherish our existence and the gift of every new day, urging us to embrace the legacy of our ancestors and carry forward their dreams with love and dedication. We’ll also talk about war, anger & hatred, and the violence that seems to be embedded in every aspect of our lives.

Idea #1: Developing a Reverence for Life

When Thay was a young monk, he was instructed to recite this meditation everyday, as a reminder of the miracle of life:

"Waking up this morning,

I smile. 24 brand new hours are before me.

I vow to live each moment deeply

 and to look at all beings with the eyes of compassion."

This daily invocation is not just a statement of intent but a profound acknowledgment of life's preciousness and our own transience. It's a reminder to be grateful: for the pulsing energy of life, for the mindful awareness of the fleeting moments we are gifted, and for our place in the grand continuum of our lineage.

We honor our ancestors—not just in thought, but in action and spirit. They exist within us, in every cell, a continuity of their aspirations and dreams. Their unmet desires for love are now ours to fulfill through self-compassion and care. As we navigate our daily lives, we honor their legacy—our inherited democracies, the beauty of cities, the richness of art, literature, music, and the profundity of philosophy and wisdom. Their achievements whisper to us that what they have done, we too can accomplish, and perhaps, even surpass.

Cultivating reverence for life also becomes an act of resistance—a defiance against the conditioning of our societies that too often dulls our senses to the natural splendor around us. It requires courage to step outside, to open our eyes, ears, and hearts to the beauty of our planet. To choose to be a participant in the grandeur of life rather than a passive observer is a powerful statement of freedom.

Idea #2: Don’t Become a Battleground

Our surroundings are often steeped in brutality—on the streets, in our homes, across the airwaves and digital screens, sowing seeds of fear, discrimination, and violence in the fertile ground of our psyche. As practitioners of mindfulness, we face the challenge of staying present and vigilant, of recognizing when these seeds start to sprout within us.

This realization necessitates not just awareness but a spiritual dimension to our everyday existence. It is this inner sanctuary that can shelter our hope and compassion from the storms of external chaos. Thay writes:

"In difficult situations, we all need a spiritual practice in order to survive and to keep our hope and compassion alive. Every one of us on Earth should bring a spiritual dimension to our daily life, so we will not be swept away and so we can handle our suffering and take care of our happiness. We have to go home to ourselves and look deeply, and that is the work of the spirit. Our century should be a century of spirituality. Whether we can survive or not depends on it.”

War and violence manifest in the realm of the mind as well. Anger and misunderstanding birth internal conflicts that often escalate into external confrontations. Each hostile thought, each word uttered in fury, is a declaration of war. We are urged to not let ourselves become battlegrounds; recognizing that suppression and resistance to our feelings can also be a form of psychological violence.

The violence we experience is not limited to physical altercations—it pervades our economic structures. An economy that ensnares individuals in a persistent cycle of inequality, that etches a divide between the affluent and the destitute, is a silent form of violence. Our call to action is clear: to dismantle such oppressive systems and pave the way for equitable opportunities in education and professional growth.

Thay poses some difficult but needed questions: Can we discern our contributions, however small, to the cycles of conflict and injustice? Do we inadvertently support systems built on the pillars of violence? To establish a culture of regeneration and respect for all life, what personal transformations are required?

Idea #3: Non Violence - The Least Amount of Harm

True non-violence requires discernment—it recognizes that sometimes, the absence of action can be as harmful as the act of violence itself. By standing idly by, we may become complicit in the perpetration of harm and injustice. Non-violence, therefore, is a dynamic and engaged practice; it is the choice to act or not act, always with the intent of minimizing harm and fostering inclusiveness.

For example, discrimination is a subtle yet pervasive form of violence, and its antidotes are inclusivity and tolerance. These are not mere concepts but practices to be woven into the fabric of our daily lives. We are reminded that non-violence is not an absolute state but a direction towards which we strive with determination.

Here’s a big one:

"Sometimes non-action is violence. If you allow others to kill and destroy, although you are not doing anything, you are also implicit in that violence. So, violence can be action or non-action."

In embracing non-violence, we are not asked to attain perfection but to make a steadfast commitment to reduce violence in all its forms. It's a path that honors the principle of doing the least amount of harm while acknowledging our shared human imperfections.

Idea #4: Hate is the Real Enemy

Navigating through the treacherous waters of anger and hatred requires a compass of understanding and compassion. The wisdom shared with us rings clear: to achieve peace, one must first be peace. This transformation begins from within, as a personal embodiment of tranquility that radiates outward.

"If you have a lot of anger in you, you cannot achieve peace. You have to be peace before you can do peace."

We explore the profound truth that the seeds of conflict often lie in misperception. The act of labeling someone as an "enemy" is a step towards conflict. Recognizing our shared humanity disarms these labels and dismantles the barriers we construct between us.

Our true adversaries are the intangibles—the hatred, violence, discrimination, and fear that breed in the shadow of ignorance. Confronting these foes requires a deep understanding of our intrinsic nature and the resolve to look beyond superficial divisions.

"Our enemy is not other people. Our enemy is hatred, violence, discrimination, and fear."

By upholding a heart of understanding and keeping our compassion alive, we can find our way through the darkness of anger and emerge into the light of peace.

Idea #5: Transformation Through Compassion

Non-violence weaves itself as a practice of deep compassion—going beyond opposition to offer transformation. True action lies in our ability to illuminate a new path for those we stand against, to awaken them to a direction that cherishes peace.

We're called to lead by example, establishing a community where peace and solidarity are not mere ideals, but lived realities. Our choices—what we consume, how we communicate, how simply we live—can all be acts of peace-making. By embodying a lifestyle that respects our planet and nourishes our communities, we demonstrate that a future of harmony is not only possible but already in the making.

We don't need to search externally for elements of healing, awakening, and happiness; they already reside within. It's a matter of turning inwards, touching these seeds, and allowing them to blossom.

Facing violence, discrimination, and jealousy, it's our comprehension and compassion that offer us protection, acting as shields more potent than any physical armor.

Compassion ensures our responses aren't out of fear or anger, reducing danger to ourselves and others.

"Compassion can protect you better even than guns and bombs. With compassion in your heart, you will not react in fear or anger and you will attract much less danger to yourself."

In the shadow of conflict and injustice, our practice of compassion becomes our survival, our beacon of hope.

It’s upon us to maintain this inner sanctuary, for if we lose ourselves to the darkness, all is lost.

Therefore, we count on each one to be the light.

Reflection Questions:

1. In what ways do you find it challenging to practice non-violence in your daily interactions, and how could mindfulness help you in these moments?

2. Reflect on a recent encounter with anger or conflict. How might approaching it with deep listening and loving speech change the outcome?

3. Consider your role in a "violent" economic system: What are practical steps you can take to promote economic inclusivity and non-violence?

4. Can you think of a situation where passive non-action might contribute to violence? How could mindful intervention make a difference?

5. Recall a time when compassion diffused a potentially negative situation. How might making compassion a regular practice improve your relationships and community?

Foushy Feedback: On Fractured Friendships and Navigating Differences with Compassion

As I reflect on this week’s reading, I kept coming back to Thay’s message of not letting ourselves or our relationships become battlegrounds. I'm struck by the profound wisdom that to achieve peace, I must first be peace. This truth has never felt more elusive, for the waters I must navigate are treacherous, filled with differences that can feel irreconcilable.

Recently, in my own friendships, I've witnessed how easily anger and judgment can take root, casting a shadow over bonds that once felt unbreakable. As I think about the root of these conflicts, one culprit emerged: too often, I let my own pain and misperceptions block me from feeling true compassion for the other person.

Of course, Thay is right. Pain and suffering makes us forget our inter-being and our shared humanity. The act of labeling someone as an "enemy" is a slippery slope towards conflict. In the heat of disagreement, it's tempting to view those who see the world differently as adversaries to be vanquished, or in my case, people to be erased from my life. But as we learned this week: "our enemy is not other people. Our enemy is hatred, violence, discrimination, and fear."

I’ve spent the last few weeks actively practicing compassion towards my anger and my sadness. As I release those feelings and ground myself in the present, it becomes clear that so much of the pain I've experienced in fractured friendships stemmed from my own unprocessed emotions. Trauma in my body, in my heart - from events that happened decades ago. This week, I’m reflecting on how I let those fiery emotions block me from feeling compassion, how I avoided taking the time to sit with my own suffering. The result was the unraveling of relationships that once mattered deeply to me.

Can I hold the duality of standing firm in my beliefs and convictions, while also keeping my heart open to understanding? Can I confront injustice and work to end suffering, without succumbing to the very hatred and fear that I seek to vanquish?

It's a delicate balance, one that requires constant vigilance and a deep commitment to compassion. For it's so easy to get caught up in the heat of the moment, to let our anger and righteous indignation blind us to the humanity in those who don't share our views.

And yet, when I'm able to tap into that wellspring of understanding, the path forward becomes clearer. I see how my own actions have, at times, contributed to the very division I despise. I recognize the ways in which my unprocessed pain has led me to lash out, to push away those who matter most.

The question then becomes, do I reach out and try to make amends? Do I try to rekindle those lost connections, or is it better to let the past remain in the past and focus my energy on forging new relationships built on a foundation of mutual respect and compassion?

There are no easy answers, no clear-cut solutions. But I know that the only way forward is to keep my heart open, to cultivate an understanding that transcends the boundaries of ideology and belief. It means sitting with my own discomfort, facing the parts of myself that I'd rather not acknowledge.

And in that process, I may just find that the divisions I thought were so insurmountable are not as solid as they appear. That the "enemies" I've cast out are, in reality, fellow travelers on this tumultuous voyage, struggling to make sense of a world that often feels chaotic and overwhelming.

Can I truly offer love and compassion to those who stand on the opposite side of an issue? It's a daunting prospect, for it requires me to hold complexity, to resist the temptation of simplistic solutions and black-and-white thinking. But I believe it is the only way to bridge the gaps that threaten to tear us apart.

By upholding a heart of compassion and keeping my understanding alive, even in the face of stark differences, perhaps I can find my way through the darkness and emerge into the light of a more peaceful world. It's a daunting task, to be sure, but one that I believe is essential if we are to heal the rifts that threaten to tear us apart.

So I'll continue to do the hard work, to confront my own biases and preconceptions, and to seek out the shared humanity that binds us all together. For only then can I truly be the change I wish to see, radiating outward the peace and understanding that I so deeply long for.

Next Week’s Pages: Deep Simplicity.