Ett hett ämne som ni säkerligen förstått, inte minst i Buddhistiska kretsar.
Själv påminns jag lite om ståryn om Mannen, sonen och hästen...
There is a story of an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically.
"Maybe," the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. "How wonderful," the neighbors exclaimed.
"Maybe," replied the old man. The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. "Maybe," answered the farmer. The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. "Maybe," said the farmer.
"So, after a sleepless night, we wake to a new understanding of the reality of our country at this moment in time. I’m not going to pretend that I have the answers- I’ll leave that for the professional commentators- of whom there are many. And they’re having a field day.
I know that I am not alone in waking up this morning in shock and fear.
There’s a lot of talk about those who, for various reasons, have felt disenfranchised by the ‘establishment’, with what they are calling “politics as usual”. These are, it seems, the keywords and phrases of this moment.
Whatever the motivation, we awake to a sea change. The scales are falling from our eyes and we are seeing much more clearly perhaps than ever before the division and fear in our nation, and by extension, the world at large.
The question for me, the question that kept me up all night and has me tapping away at this keyboard, is what can I do? What can we do to bring healing to this moment?
The first thing for me was to recognize that the fear and shock that I am experiencing with this result and its possible implications are potentially a mirror image of the fear, distrust and isolation that many in this nation have obviously felt.
With that recognition, I realized that I could not use this result to disenfranchise others- to hunker down and behave like a martyr. It is too easy, in this moment, to point the finger at “the other”, “they”, the so-called hidden enemy. That’s the easy way out.
Rather, let us use this opportunity to reflect on the hidden enemy or enemies within our own hearts.
What have we missed over the past years? What are the ways that we have closed our eyes in front of suffering, that we have avoided building meaningful connection with those we disagree with, that we have behaved arrogantly? In the Sutra of the Eight Realizations, it says “Great Beings do not hate anyone, even those presently causing harm, and treat everyone- friends and “enemies” alike equally and with compassion.”
For too long, in a sense, we have behaved as children: expecting others- in this case- our political leaders to do our work, our shadow work, for us. For others to bring our nation together. For others to heal the divide. For others-organizations or churches to feed the hungry. This is a wake up call indeed. This is an invitation for us to step into adulthood and to realize both our capacity and our responsibility.
What are the conversations that we need to have as families, as communities, as a nation? Can we commit ourselves, at this critical juncture, to a future that includes each other? Can we build communication with the person next to us? Can we not wait for someone, somewhere else to do our work for us? Most importantly, let us not run from this moment.
It is not an exaggeration for me to say that America saved me.
She is openhearted, she is diverse, she is beautiful and at this moment in time, she is hurting deeply. This morning, this painful morning, rather than allowing our hearts to shatter into a thousand pieces, let us break them open."
Phap Hai, co-chair Thich Nhat Hanh Foundation