Thursday, November 29, 2007

indelicate delicacies

I just learned some sad news that I think may be worth sharing. In the past thirty years, it seems that we have wiped out about 90% of the sharks in the oceans worldwide, mostly in the pursuit of their fins for soup. For some reason, this nugget of info hit close to home for me. I think part of it is from watching cool footage of sharks underwater when the Discovery Channel was a rising star on TV in the 1990s. Part of it may also be the number "90%", which seems too close to 100% for comfort. Anytime we have something that's gone 90% bad, it's pretty bad and tends to get our attention.

I'm not sure what to do with this info. I feel scared by it because lots of scientists apparently think it may soon lead to the collapse of whole fish stocks all over the world. This in turn will threaten the whole balance of life in the oceans, where a lot of our oxygen comes from at the bottom of the aquatic food chain. This possibly scenario freaks me out, but I'm not sure what I'll do differently tomorrow morning just because it's in my head.

I think this is a great example of how we can act with narrow self-interest (individual, regional, national, whatever) which harms the group (global). I think if we went down to the docks where the fishing boats, large and small, set out each day to catch sharks, cut of the fins, and throw the bodies back in, and talked to the fishermen there about the situation and the remaining 10% of the sharks, I'm unsure what effect it might have. They need their livelihoods, and have their own fears about dropping out the bottom of the socio-economic food chain in our culture. How do we ask them to give up work that they need to take care of themselves?

No less responsible are the folks who are demanding the shark fin soup delicacy at their parties. If it's exotic, and someone is willing to pay to get it, then they can find someone willing to catch it and prepare it. What are they concerned about? Perhaps nothing - they may not know that shark fins are a commodity that threatens a global ecosystem. Perhaps they are anxious about being able to show that they are wealthy and can have the better things in life, distancing themselves in appearance from the people with less.

I think this type of situation is the crux of the crisis that we are facing together as a species on our tiny spaceship. We get afraid, and trapped in our narrow self-serving patterns because we have difficulty imagining other ways of being and having the courage to follow them. I don't think we can be too hard on ourselves at the individual level, because everyone knows what it is like to feel like we're struggling and competing to get ahead or at least stay even in the rat race. The shark fishermen know it, and the wealthy lunch guests know it. Anyone who knows the relief that comes with a pay raise knows it, as does the person who just lost their job and feels like they will have trouble getting another one. People who would "really like not to have to drive to work" but drive to work know it.

I know that it's hard to think of a bigger picture in a warm fuzzy way when we feel like we're in the big picture in a competitive, doom-and-gloom way. But when you take that first step towards cooperation on a global scale, with billions of folks you've never met or who aren't even born yet, you know it feels good to be less afraid. Biking in the snow, walking in the rain, taking time between jobs to explore your passion for oil painting, skipping the shark fin soup and telling someone why, turning off lights more often than you turn them on, having fewer children instead of more, eating less meat, it's all connected. We can find such joy and satisfaction in a million small things, acts for which we'll never be rewarded with a feature on the front page of Altruist Weekly.

In taking these steps, we can know that we're doing more to make the world - the only one our children have - a better place. I think we'll never know if we're doing enough, but we'll know that we're doing more. It's the choice we face every time the path splits. Sometimes we don't have enough information, and we just have to follow our hearts and guess. Sometimes we have lots of information, and we just need to find the courage to listen to our inner voices. Often we want companions to join us, so we don't feel alone and like we're the only ones taking the broad view. The path isn't always clear, but our good intentions based in broader love instead of narrower fear will get us going. To survive and get on a good track as a society world wide, we need to take this more thoughtful approach to our lives, look long and deep at what we're doing, and get more on the same page with each other about getting from where we are to where we want to be.

Here's the best part (I think so, anyway): we're not giving anything up when we make these choices. We're gaining everything, bit by bit. Our lives unfold in beautiful ways, dovetailing together with other folks who are looking for the good life. We are the ones...

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Our Beautiful Struggle, or I Got Them Ol' Zen Cushion Blues

I came in from the cold, frosty and sweaty after running in the frozen sunshine. I peeled off layers and paused to make some green tea, steaming with jasmine and memories of ancient China. I put on soft cotton pants, a wool sweater, and sat down in front of my 17 inch window to the world. I looked up at my blog, with a vast white background and only the blinking cursor, and realized that its address is Nothing is Lacking. I took a sip, looked out at the clinging golden maple leaves, took another sip, and exhaled.

It's hard to remember that nothing is lacking. It's hard to remember that where we're at is where we're at. The Madison Ave. folks want us to buy our kids toys for Christmas, either Chinese or unleaded. Just after New Years, as we sign in to email, we'll have an image of someone who is not at all overweight telling us that she wants to lose those holiday inches. Some days we wake up to find a close friend or even ourselves on anti-depressants, never believing before that moment that it was necessary. We see headlines about disasters that we'd love to help alleviate, but we're so busy we don't know where to begin. Unusually warm weather makes us all a bit nervous, because we don't know if we can count on past years to know the future. And in our heads, we tell ourselves the stories that we've told all our lives about how the world works, what we can and can't do, and why life "doesn't work like that."

Regardless of the tempests in Bangladesh and in our teacups, nothing is lacking because the world can't be any other way than it is. We get to choose to accept or deny the world and our place in it, and that's about it. I can't bring my dad back to life for the holidays, just because I want to get to know him better and didn't get the chance while he was alive. I can't make the Canadian border guards the friendly people they were ten years ago because I want to visit the States more often. I can't magically lower my mom's cholesterol and tell her she can eat as much creamy French food as she wants. These are wishes that won't survive being hurled against the rocky North Atlantic shoreline of reality.

Denial is just fear. We are afraid of not being loved so we don't share ourselves fully with our partner. We are afraid of sounding foolish, so we don't speak our minds. We are afraid of making a mistake, so we shirk responsibility and pass the buck. When we find the strength to admit our weakness, ignorance, or inability, then we can love, grow, and learn. It's a pretty tight loop, that can spiral out in a closed life of fear or an open life with love and freedom.

When we choose the open path and expand like the frontier of the universe, it's beautiful because nothing is lacking. When we pick up any self-help book that is worth it's salt, and take the advice (which is the same in all of them) to heart, we can return to the moment we're in and stop fearfully traveling to the past and the future all the time. In this moment, we can be free - free to take some distance from our incessant monkey minds swinging from tree to tree. This freedom is empowering, and we can begin again to do what we want with our lives, unburdened by our usual baggage which is momentarily gone. We can create inertia in new directions for our health and well-being. We can imagine, with positivity, getting from where we are to where we want to be. We can begin to heal - ourselves, each other, the neighborhood, the planet. It's pretty groovy and organic (did I just write that? :-) and pretty mind-blowingly liberating.

The full quote is something roughly like:

Be grateful for what you have,

Rejoice in how things are.

When you realize nothing is lacking,

The world belongs to you.


All this being written, I still have to get up each day, remind myself of it, and try to stay in a good headspace. It's a beautiful struggle - sometimes I find joy in remembering that we are all doing the best we can. Sometimes I get depressed with that same thought when I read about American nuclear policy or see half of my fellow gym members oogling celebrity news about who Drew Barrymore was making out with. I know, however, that we are all doing good things and trying with the most courage we can muster. Sometimes I wonder if we will make it. I wonder if we'll be able to effect change on a big enough scale to "save ourselves" before it's too late, or if each of us as individuals will be able to lead full and satisfying lives without regrets.

Then, on the good days, with the frost on the grass and the sun slipping through spindly branches, I know that we will certainly make it. I smell the tea, and remember that there's no way we can't make it. Let's go back to our breath and start again. That's where it all begins.