Sometimes living with Helene can be like living in one of Plato's dialogues. The other morning, literally seconds after my eyes had opened to another day, her first words of awakened consciousness were, “Must life on this earth be violent?”I assumed the question was rhetorical but when I looked over at her I realized I was expected to reply. Pre-coffee Socratic method is always a bit dicey but I answered.
“Yes, because it’s a good story. We are always looking for antagonists in our narratives to keep the illusion of a personal plot plodding along.”
I gave the example of the film UP that I had recently seen with my nephew. “The first ten minutes is a montage of this beautify domestic bliss lived by two people who found love early and followed through in turning the every day into awe by loving another completely and surrendering to that love. That idea may seem enchanting but it’s a boring story. The plot of the film gets interesting when she dies and he’s left alone as an old man with a life full of memories, pain, and problems. We are always adding drama, some if it violence, to our lives to keep the story interesting.”
“That sounds glib.” she said, “So if I’m on a beach relaxing and get hit by a sunami or I’m BBQing for my family and a faulty propane tank explodes burning me to death (This happened to a poor guy in Phoenix recently) I added this violence to keep my life interesting?”
“Well, now you’re talking about how we define violence. The eternal pounding of the ocean on rock until it was pulverized into sand created the beach you were relaxing on. The charred pieces of skin, muscle, and bone that you were grilling before you were burned yourself was also violent. The very act of eating, it be a cow or a carrot is a violent act of stomach acid breaking down a living organism to a chemical level and reconstituting it into ourselves. It takes death to sustain life. We just take it personally when our death or the death of someone we love is involved. Everything comes from friction and energy. The friction and energy we like is called a wonderful vacation on the beach. The friction and energy we don't like is called a tragic sunami.”
“Well, that’s true,” she said, “but what about all the violence we can control but don’t? What about Iraq?” (We had just seen the film No End In Site the night before.) Watch a clip here:
What moved me the most in watching is film was the total detached arrogance and ignorance that was used in the reconstruction of Iraq by our leaders and how this snowballed into the violent quagmire we have today. The concrete walls of the Green Zone are a physical symbol of our ability to cut ourselves off from the situation that surrounds us, to detach from the reality in front of our eyes. The maddening aspect of this film and it’s unpacking of the events that happened after Mission Accomplished is that it becomes clear the nightmare of the pain and suffering and violence that has occurred in the post United States of America invasion of Iraq could have been avoided.
Not wanting to sound like a hippy but at the same time not knowing where else to go in the face of such concrete momentous human pain,(warning, this link is graphic) I said, “The continued violence in Iraq could have been avoided if our government leaders had made their postwar reconstruction effort and decisions based on compassion for the Iraqi people not based on an outdated cold war political ideology and greed.”“Yes, and . . .”
It almost hurt me to say it. The simplicity of my answer felt stupidly child-like, “And love. Had we acted out of compassion and love much of the suffering that is going on there today could have been avoided.”
“True, but what keeps us from acting out of love and compassion? What keeps a good Buddhist like you full of glib answers and removed from your heart? Why are you afraid so sound like a child, to sound like an old cliché hippy?”
“I don't know.”
“Walls,” she said, “Our incessant need for walls! That’s why humanity adds unnecessary violence to this world. Walls. We build walls, both literal and figurative, around ourselves to block out the pain of living and that very act creates even greater pain. In our desperate attempts to avoid pain, we detached from the world around us, which inevitably causes suffering for others and ourselves. When the walls come down we cannot help but act from love and compassion.”
“But when the top UN envoy for Iraq, Sergio Vieira de Mello, went to Baghdad he did not built a wall, like America’s Green Zone, he allowed his offices to be open to the people and look what it got him.”
“Killed in a bombing.”
“Yes, so what did he get for his openness but pain and death?”
“When we are in a place of openness we cannot help but act from love and compassion not matter what the outcome. Most of the time we do this instinctively without thinking about our own outcome; running into a burning building to save a child or stepping in front of an oncoming bus to push a stranger out of the way.
While these are noble acts they are not enlightened acts. The keys to heaven go to those who knowingly tear down the walls both inside and outside and move through this world naked and unafraid. Life on this planet might be inherently violent but we, as a race, have the conscious choice to not add to that violence.”
In that moment a Bible story from childhood called the Sheep and the Goats flashed in my head. After Jesus has left the temple in shambles he goes on a tirade about the end times. I remember that the Bible I read as a kid highlighted the words of Jesus in red. In this section Jesus is talking about how we will be separated like sheep and goats. “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty . . . The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’” Matthew 25:34-40
For the goats the message was different: “’Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needed cloths or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ He will reply, ‘I tell you the truth whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ Then they will go away to eternal punishment but the righteous to eternal life.’” Matthew 25:44-46
“So it’s not about doing something solely based on what I might get but doing something because it's the compassionate thing to do for others despite the pain it might cause me? And the rub is that if I break down my walls and reach out compassionately to others I will probably get hurt and hurt others and yet if stay behind my walls I WILL hurt myself and others.”
“I think so . . .”
And then I thought about Abu Ghraib and wondered if I was responsible for my goverment's sins againts others. “Helene, am I a sheep or a goat?”“What are you talking about?!?”
“Nothing, I just remembered something from when I was a kid and it got me thinking. If the keys to heaven go to sheep not goats who sorts out who is who? Is eternal punishment to hell really a sound moral goal for goats? Where does compassion and love fit in there? Isn't hell just another walled prison we’ve built to try and protect ourselves from those we perceive as evil? Isn't heaven the ultimate wall made to protect ourselves from suffering and hell the ultimate attempt to make those we don't connect with suffer? Does hell have visiting hours? And if I visit, will I be allowed to leave? Sometimes I’m sure I'm a goat. Sometimes I know I'm a sheep.”
“And sometimes you’re ridiculous. Would you like coffee?”
“YES, I would. And I’m serious about this goat sheep thing.”
“With cream?”
“That would be delightful, thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
