Walking the Labyrinth

Sat, 4 Sep 2010 09:12:19 -0400

On the last Tuesday of each month, the Washington National Cathedral stays open into the evening for those who want to try a different, yet ancient spiritual practice-- walking a labyrinth.

Many ancient cultures used labyrinths as spiritual practices. Different traditions within Buddhism have used “walking meditation” for centuries. For Christians, walking a labyrinth is more recent. In the 6th century, some Italian churches carved small labyrinths into their walls and seekers would trace the path with their fingers. In the middle ages, many European cathedrals built labyrinths into their floors with mosaics and their visitors could literally “walk” them.

One can think of labyrinths in many ways. To make a slow, meditative, deliberate walk is a practice that slows down the breathing, the heartbeat, the self. It can open the walker to clearer thinking and calm. The labyrinth becomes a tangible symbol for life’s path.

Traditionally, on the walk “in” one focuses on emptying the self of worry and distraction. In the center, one might take a moment to listen, to be open to receive an insight. On the way out, one might imagine new ways of living, transformed actions.

I have walked labyrinths regularly for a few years now. I nearly always find it a satisfying and calming experience. While I don’t always get a radical or new insight, I do receive an element of peace and gentleness from the walking. The labyrinth can help add perspective to one’s worries and concerns. We’re all on a path. It is, in fact, more than a metaphor.

The Washington National Cathedral labyrinth is patterned on the labyrinth in Chartres Cathedral in France. It is also known as the “7 circuit” labyrinth. During the labyrinth walk at Washington National Cathedral, a harpist plays quietly, and the walkers keep a friendly silence as they walk. You just take off your shoes and walk in your socks. They even provide a large basket of clean socks if you aren’t wearing socks yourself.

In the Washington National Cathedral, there are two large labyrinths on canvas, which are unfolded in the two transepts, so even if there are many walkers, the two options spread people out.

The labyrinths are part of the Cathedral Crossroads program. On the last Tuesday of each month, they offer the labyrinths, usually some kind of centering prayer or group meditation, a featured spiritual activity, and a Night Prayer at the end of the evening. Visitors can participate in as much or as little of these activities as they choose. Last Tuesday, I came and just sat in quiet for some time before walking the labyrinth. I sat for a bit afterward, and then went home.

A labyinth walk is a peaceful and quiet way to engage your whole body in the act of seeking. At least I find it so.

www.JosephRoss.net

Dr. King’s Dream: 47 Years Later

Sun, 29 Aug 2010 09:27:10 -0400

Forty-seven years ago, Dr. King and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference organized the “March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom.” That event, feared by the Kennedy Administration back in 1963, sought to bring Dr. King’s goal, the “Beloved Community” and his method, “noviolence,” to a national stage. It was a remarkably successful effort.

Yesterday on the National Mall, that event was recalled in profoundly different ways. The group Celebrate the Dream unveiled a beautiful artistic tribute to Dr. King: a 4-story rotating set of panels depicting different images of King and quotes from his writings. Over loudspeakers they played a wide variety of his speeches and civil rights music. I spent a good part of the day talking to the organizers there and sitting in the shade of the large painting. This remembrance was set up between the U.S. Capitol, which you can see in the background of the photograph above, and the Washington Monument on the National Mall.

On the other side of the Washington Monument, the “Restore Honor” rally, organized by Glenn Beck took place. It featured various speakers and thousands of people with variously patriotic and angry signs and t-shirts. It remains unclear to me what “honor” needs to be restored but the language I heard from their rally was largely American Christianity woven through figures in American history. This event was also billed as a recollection of Dr. King as well a tribute to U.S. military troops.

This creates a powerful experience of cognitive dissonance for me. Anyone who has read Dr. King’s writings knows that the core goal of his hope for humanity is the “Beloved Community,” an organization of human society around justice and equality. The core method for Dr. King is nonviolence. His “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” perhaps the most important work of protest literature in the world, articulates clearly and compellingly, how and why one should respond to acts of evil with nonviolence. How any of Dr. King’s ideas and strategies connect with the “Restore Honor” gathering is a mystery to me. They don’t. The folks involved with that gathering clearly know little of Dr. King’s work. I don’t write that last sentence lightly. But I mean it. It is a dangerous moment for our society when ignorance appropriates some of our most important and necessary ideas for its own confusing, and likely conflicting, goals.

Additionally, there was a march led by Rev. Al Sharpton, which began at Dunbar High School in Washington, D.C. and went to the site of the MLK Memorial, still under construction, on the Tidal Basin near the National Mall.

There is a lot to consider in these conflicting events. As I walked through the Beck gathering, just taking in the scene, two women walked behind me speaking in worried and earnest tones. One told the other that what angered her most about Obama is the U.S. tax monies he spends building mosques overseas. Well, I wanted to turn and engage her in that conversation but chose to just listen and observe. But how can societies move forward when we cannot even agree on basic facts? Of course there is no U.S. money spent building mosques overseas but that woman believes there is. She likely listens to some of the television programs or talk radio shows that regularly assert plain errors and fear-mongering as the truth. How can we move forward when some of us believe those errors and would never accept a correction, or likely even a conversation, from another viewpoint?

Forty-seven years after Dr. King’s “March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom,” we have a long way to go. While the “Beloved Community” is alive and flourishing in some small ways, we are far from it nationally. America today experiences the largest income inequality in our history. We have corporations and individuals pulling in enormous profits and salaries while millions of families barely survive because of the crushing “wage poverty” which afflicts most Americans. Our country is more divided than ever. From the political divisions noted above to the racial and religious divides that make coalitions and conversations very difficult.

There is no simple way out or good news in this. At forty-seven years after the “March on Washington,” we have a lot of listening, talking, helping, feeding, and healing to do.

www.JosephRoss.net

Join me at the Library of Congress Poetry at Noon Reading on November 16th

Thu, 26 Aug 2010 15:15:41 -0400

I was thrilled to learn today that I have been invited to read in the Library of Congress’ Poetry-at-Noon Series on November 16, 2010. The reading is free and takes place in the Whittal Pavilion of the beautiful Jefferson Building at 10 First Street, SE, Washington, D.C., directly behind the U.S. Capitol building.

The theme of the reading is “Insider or Outsider Experiences.” There will be two other poets and it promises to be a great afternoon.

My mother was a great devotee of libraries and I recall her telling me many times about the Library of Congress. She never visited it herself but she told me it was the “biggest and most important library in the world.” She certainly passed on her love of libraries to me.

I hope you can join us for this reading. Take the afternoon off and enjoy one of our nation’s greatest treasures, the Library of Congress.

Can An Economy Be Moral?

Sat, 21 Aug 2010 09:18:00 -0400

Lisa Dodson’s book “The Moral Underground: How Ordinary Americans Subvert An Unfair Economy” presents us with voices we never hear and raises disturing but essential questions.

She establishes the growing inequality in the American economy. Her book builds from the question: “How unequal can we be and still be a democracy?” She recounts actual human stories of people living “wage poor,” that is, working two and three jobs at a time, yet who are still unable to care for a family. In this social history, the stories of people on the bottom, the “voices from the bottom,” are not stories we ever hear in the mainstream press. She gives these stories full voice and what they say is disturbing. We hear of families, some headed by single-parents, some by two-parents, who are unable to provide food, health care, and safety for their children even though they work more than one full-time job each. One mother recalls that she rarely sees her children except when they are sleeping.

We also learn that the economic ladders are gone. There is virtually no upward mobility for people who work in the service industry. This is an enormous change in American cultural.

What Dodson discovered as she researched this book was not only the gross and growing inequality in America, but she found a whole world of middle managers and professionals who were breaking rules, in a quiet and “underground” way, to help their “wage poor” workers survive. One professional manager told her how difficult it was for the people he supervised to make a living on what their company paid. Then, at the end of the interview, he asked Dodson if she wanted to know what that experience did to him. This question changed her book.

She began to tell the stories of these people who commit economic disobedience. These are managers who allow their workers to leave to pick up kids at the bus stop, to bring sleeping children to work with them, who even commit document fraud so that a parent can get health care because the parent’s health is intimately tied to the child’s.

These stories stunned me. There is in our midst, a silent wave of people committing a kind of civil disobedience so that the workers they supervise can live humane lives.

Her book prompts many questions in my mind: In a country where 1% of the population owns more than the bottom 90%, why has America always been so hesitant to limit business or private property, to require that businesses treat people humanely? Why are Americans so uncomfortable talking about our economic structure? Why do accusations of “communism” or “socialism” erupt as soon as one wonders about the moral components of our economy?

A powerful question her book raises for me is this: How has unabashed self-interest become the dominant American narrative? Why is there no other way to be American?

These are a few reflections on what is a powerful and probing book. Lisa Dodson’s book is important for two essential reasons: First, she gives voice to people who live at the bottom of American society. Second, she asks questions which no one else is asking. I urge you to listen to these voices and ponder her questions.

www.JosephRoss.net

A World Cup Image?

Sat, 14 Aug 2010 14:52:30 -0400

While I loved watching as much of the World Cup as possible, I was struck a few weeks ago by this photograph. It was taken in a poor township just near the Soccer City Stadium in Johannesburg, South Africa. I searched to find the photographer’s name and could not find it.

Here is a shoeless little boy, maybe 5 or 6 years old, playing on a dirt road, with a very handmade soccer ball, as much a bag of rags as a ball. I recall when I first found this photograph, I also read that he was within earshot of the magnificent Soccer City stadium which played host to the world’s greatest soccer players and many of the world’s elite in entertainment and politics. That stadium also hosted the opening match, between South Africa and Mexico, as well as the final match, between Spain and the Netherlands.

This photograph illustrates the gap between rich and poor more clearly than most of us would like. Our world seems to be endlessly stretching toward extremes. On one side are those who have all kinds of opportunities for health care, education, leisure, and social growth. On the other hand, are those who have little opportunity for any of these things. The awful reality also is, that those who have none of these opportunities, know exactly what they do not have. They see, through today’s constant media, the pleasures which a small portion of the world enjoys but which they do not. So here, less than a mile away from the world’s greatest sports event, replete with heroes, television, journalists, and celebrities from around the world-- is a small shoeless boy, doing his best to be like them.

How much wider can this inequity grow? I notice too, that global inequity renders those of us on the wealthy side ignorant about the daily struggles experienced by the vast majority of the world. The poor see our lives on television, in movies, and other media, all the time. We, however, have to deliberately explore how they live. And most of us rarely do. It’s true in the same way that, in the past, servants knew much more about the lives of those they served than the wealthy knew of their servants’ lives.

The more the extremes of rich and poor grow, the more fractured and dangerous our world becomes. What can we do about this?

Gratitude

Wed, 11 Aug 2010 07:52:09 -0400

When my mom was alive, I used to send her flowers on my birthday. It just seemed right to me. She did all the work of that day. I merely did what came naturally. It has always seemed to me that one’s birthday is an opportunity for gratitude. I certainly feel that way now, the older I become.

We found the photograph above not long after my mom died. We think it was taken during their honeymoon in 1954. I love this photograph because of the joy it reveals. It urges me toward the consistent choice of joy. Many experiences can mark our lives. But joy is a deliberate choice, an act of the will. My parents gave me much more than just the gift of life. They gave me wonderful examples of devotion, hard work, and love. My dad, at 91, still gives these gifts. So today, I am immensely grateful to them.

Is Presence an Apology?

Sun, 8 Aug 2010 13:24:49 -0400

Sixty-five years after the U.S. dropped the first nuclear bomb on the city of Hiroshima, the U.S. and Britain sent envoys to the annual memorial service. It’s hard to know what this means.

On August 6, 1945, the U.S. dropped the first nuclear bomb ever used in war on Hiroshima, killing approximately 150,000 people. Three days later, on August 9, 1945, the U.S. dropped the second nuclear bomb on Nagasaki, killing approximately 75,000 people. Most of the fatalities took place immediately and people were burned to ash. Many people died from crushing injuries caused by the collapse of buildings and homes. Evidence shows that some people walked considerable distances after the bomb fell and then died. People continued to die 2-6 weeks afterward and many people contracted cancers that would kill them years later. For more statistical information, you can explore the Department of Energy’s website about the bombings.

The historical questions about dropping the bombs have been, and will continue to be, debated for decades. Were both bombs necessary to end the war? Were the bombs dropped primarily to show the Soviet Union what the U.S. could do? Were the bombings an emotional retaliation for the Pearl Harbor attack? All of these questions are valid and part of the ongoing debate.

What is interesting in 2010, the 65th anniversary of the bombings, is that the U.S. and Britain sent representatives to the memorial service for the first time. A memorial service has been conducted since the first anniversary, though for the last thirty years, the service has taken on a strong call for total nuclear disarmament. In the memorial park, there is an arching smooth shelter, shown above, covering the Peace Bell and the Peace Flame. Each year the mayor of Hiroshima rings the bell as a call for the world to eliminate nuclear weapons. There is a silence to honor the tens of thousands who died. But not until this year did the U.S. ever send an envoy to this ceremony.

What does it mean to attend a memorial which laments an act caused by your country? What does it mean to mourn the deaths of innocent people your country caused?

The U.S. has never officially apologized in any manner for the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. There was no apology implicitly or explicitly present in the 2010 memorial. Then what does the U.S. presence mean?

Can it be interpreted as meaning we are “now” sorry for doing it? Does it mean the U.S. is sorry for the “innocent” deaths that were caused? What was going through the mind of the U.S. Ambassador to Japan as he stood at the ceremony?

It is very hard for us, as individuals or as communities and nations, to take responsibility for cruel and reckless actions. Perhaps the passage of time makes it easier. I suppose it’s as hard for me to say I am sorry for an act that hurt another as it is for a nation to express sorrow for past actions.

That sorrow, however, is essential for progress. For people to move forward, they need to hear from the one who caused the suffering and the one who caused the suffering needs to give voice to authentic regret. Both sides of that equation are crucial for any real sense of reconciliation and peace.

So, what does the surprising U.S. presence at the Hiroshima memorial this year mean? What does it mean to you?

Loving August

Sun, 1 Aug 2010 09:58:26 -0400

I love August. I always have. Its ability to switch from hot and dry to thundering rain, in an instant, always intrigues me. Living much of my life on the academic calendar also causes a passion for August. I want to hold on to it. I try to dig my heels into the August beach sand, the warm ground of a trail, to keep it from slipping into Labor Day and the beginning of the school year. Perhaps as schools tend to begin so much earlier than during my childhood, I cling to August even more.

August offers a kind of meditation, a slowness. Its heat causes me to either accomplish outdoor tasks early or let them go until tomorrow. In some ways, it compares to the harshest moments of winter in that it reminds us that the earth is doing its own thing, regardless of how we feel about it. The heat of August reminds us that we are not in charge, that we have to work with the earth and its seasons and moods.

My first days of life were in August. Born in mid-August, I was brought home from the hospital in a pouring thunderstorm. The story is told that my grandfather carried me from the garage into the house through a downpour. No wonder I love the storms of August. As a boy in South California, August remained pure delight. I was out of school and the sun set late, so I could ride my bike or play basketball in the alley behind our house until 10pm.

In the last ten years, since I have moved to Washington, D.C., August has a particular sensation. Here, the humidity of August can be rough at times. The cicadas roar, the air sticks, the sun slips in and out of clouds and one always expects thunder. Those are the marks of the Washington August and I have to say I love all those sensations. I’m savoring them all.

www.JosephRoss.net