Crossing Nebraska

  We’re in a dangerous place here in the United States at present. Unconscionable pardons of convicted criminals and political firings of those who’ve assembled cases contrary to the interests of those now in power threaten to erode faith in our justice system. Government agencies have been gutted or dismantled to the point where reasonable concern exists whether any assistance or meaningful oversight will be available in times of disaster, famine, pandemic, or economic downturn. The balance of power between branches of government has become so lopsided that our form of democracy is now all but unrecognizable. More fundamentally, though, elections, science, and even truth itself have been called into question so frequently and forcefully as to leave us without an agreed upon objective reality from which to begin rational policy-making discussions.  It's enough to leave one apathetic and disengaged, or even clinically depressed for that matter. It’s enough to make one cynical...

If you’re a spiritual practitioner, I hope you’re “blessed” from time to time with an encouraging sign that you’re on the right path. Whether it be with an insight, observation, opening, understanding, felt sense, embodied knowing, or what have you I wish for you assurance that you’re moving toward whatever wholeness and authenticity mean for you. We Zen practitioners are not inclined to speak much about such experiences. We’re warned against putting too much stock in them, becoming attached to them, striving to repeat them, or thinking they result from our specialness. That notwithstanding, for the sake of this two-part series, I’d like to relate how certain practice-related experiences have prompted me to toward activism. Arrest of the Buddha In the first post of this two-part series , I stated: “The emptiness [ sunyata ] of all phenomena does not mean they are illusory. The emptiness of all phenomena merely means that all “things” are without any separate and abiding existence.” ...

  It’s been over twenty years now since we gathered with our signs on a busy street in downtown St. Louis in an attempt to keep the Iraq War from beginning. In those days, if enough people gathered in one place to protest something, local reporters would likely show up and cover it for the nightly news. Notwithstanding that possibility, we hoped at least to get the attention of the many motorists making their way to and from the Grand Center Arts District for their evening of entertainment.  “Where are all the Buddhists?” I recall the protest leader enquiring over his megaphone in between the antiwar chants of the day. He was a Catholic activist in the mold of Dorothy Day , and I got the distinct impression that he wasn’t expecting anyone to answer. Nevertheless, we did. “We’re over here!” three of us Zen Buddhists called out from halfway down the block, although noble silence would have been a very Zen response! Arrest of the Buddha I’m surmising that the protest leader wa...

We all know the old adage that a picture is worth a thousand words. Indeed, a painting may convey the full range of human emotion, the worldly condition of its subjects and their relationship with a higher power or practice, all with an economy of masterful strokes that a hefty tome cannot describe. Symbols, likewise—not so much for what they inherently convey, but for the meaning we invest them with—convey almost as much information as a painting. Which brings me to the flag of the United States of America. According to a U.S. Government website, “The flag's 13 red and white stripes represent the 13 original colonies. Its 50 white stars on a blue background represent the 50 states.” Furthermore, the red stands for “valor and bravery,” white stands for “purity and innocence,” and blue stands for "vigilance, perseverance, and justice.” But how does this description even begin to do justice to the emotions felt by a family member of someone who has died “fighting for that fla...

In my previous post, I remarked that, with the exception of the neutron bomb, I knew of no weapon ever invented that hasn’t been used. I realize now that I spoke incorrectly. At the time, U.S. forces had not yet used the massive ordnance penetrators, also known as “bunker busters.” Reportedly, these bombs were used operationally for the first time this past Saturday on some of Iran’s most fortified nuclear development facilities. For many Americans, no doubt, the success of critically crippling Iran’s nuclear program will be seen as a source of great pride. Indeed, it was an awesome logistical operation spanning continents and time zones, coordinating some 125 aircraft in order to project this fearsome firepower to the other side of the world, and apparently without a single loss of American life. B-2 bomber being refueled in midair Let’s put things in perspective, though. While the success of this operation proves the vast technological superiority of the United States military, i...

In one of my first posts in this series, The Fundamental Nature of Power , I introduced the issues involved in wielding power by discussing my relationship with a high horsepower leaf blower (the big machine). Yes, it allows me to get a lot of work done in a short amount of time, but I use it more judiciously and much less frequently now that I’ve witnessed its tendency to blast the car’s paint job, peel carpets of moss from the earth, and obliterate tender plants that don’t get out of its way. In other words, wielding power is potentially dangerous. Care needs to be taken to ensure that harm does not occur. But power is seductive and addictive  as well. We can easily find ourselves lured into situations where we can get a lot done with very little effort at great risk to ourselves or others or the world. Our relationship with firearms is a perfect example of all these issues coming together. A firearm, pound for pound, packs an incredible amount of power. Whereas my big machine ca...

“May you live in interesting times” has been called an ancient Chinese curse, although it may be of more recent Western origin. Regardless, we are indeed living in interesting times. And at times it does feel like a curse. But I only have my healthcare coverage, retirement accounts, and future liberty and free speech rights to be concerned about, not to mention the future America that my family will be living in. What about someone who’s just been separated from her children by masked ICE agents for the crime of trying to live a better life? What about those who were snatched up for deportation after speaking their minds about genocide being perpetrated in Gaza? And what about those who now find themselves warehoused in a high-security prison in a foreign country without ever having been afforded due process? I never thought the term Kafkaesque would be used to describe life here in the United States, but here we are. We need some good news, don’t we? My wife is a Christian pastor. E...