Be the Cause

Losing Sleep

This reflection should begin as all flows from the heart should begin – with a word of thanks. Thanks to life itself is primarily due, for our graciously given time on this earth, and the abundance of beauty that we are given the opportunity to experience, and (in those most celebrated moments) create. But moreover, for the love, inspiration, and genuine investment of humanity that is germane to our ever expanding BTC family, my personal, eternal thanks is due as well. What has been born amongst each of us – that is, this seva that we attempt to maintain in our everyday lives – is something that has become central for me, and that sustains my hope in the midst of otherwise trepidatious and downtrodden times.

That being said, it is necessary for me, in the most selfish sense, to express the fulgurations of my heart for these past two weeks. Monday the 16th saw an incredibly staunch dichotomy unfold for all of us, I believe. My personal experience was no different. That Monday morning I was incredibly self-absorbed, as I was laughably irritated with being up all night preparing for a conference addressing human rights issues that was to be held that day. The morning saw a very cranky, very snide side of me interacting with people as little as possible so as to not defile, abuse, mame, appal, or otherwise offend any soul unfortunate enough to cross my path. I wanted nothing more than to get the conference over with and go home – as passionate about the subject as I may be, I was too engrossed in my own dispositional dissatisfactions to be excited for the fact that something positive was being done.

I then received a phone call from a good friend of mine who is quick to call me on bad moods and sour dispositions. “Can you believe what happened in Virginia?” he asked. I shortly replied “Haven’t checked the news. What?”, anxious to get off the phone and back to work. “33 people are dead. Maybe you should.”

I froze. Reality, in the sense of this side of reality – the harsh, sharply edged, and cold, cold, cold side of human nature and capacity – bore down on me like a wrathful storm. In an inexpressible confluence of thoughts and emotions, all my own complaints for the day dissolved as I stood quietly bereft for a tragedy whose magnitude I did not yet know. After finding out the initial details of the shooting, I immediately thrust myself back into a frenzied race to keep the conference flowing. I was no longer snide nor short with those I encountered – I in fact had little to say at all. As the day wore on, I would check back to see what more had developed in regard to Virginia Tech. Each time I went to the BBC news site my heart winced more and more.

The tragedy echoed in me as my head battled my heart throughout the rest of the day. Continually my thoughts reverted to Virginia as I listened to our distinguished guests speak from both scholarly and practical viewpoints alike about the depth of the human capacity for inflicting pain and suffering – how they come to be capable of it from a psychological perspective (that is, the process of “othering”); the political dimension of the allowance of violence from the state and individuals alike; the legitimacy of violence, and its role as coercive and controlling mechanism; the primeval nature of human interaction; etc. Dr. Richard Falk, a tremendously kind and wise Yale Emeritus professor stated the enormity of there even being a dialogue about what we call human rights today – citing the fact that the notion was laughable before World War II. However, he was careful to somberly note that, unfortunately, it continues to be a laughable topic as evidenced by the continuity of heinous acts of hatred and violence between human beings on both large and small scales.
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33

What kind of place is this my friends?

The sun rises only to set. We are born only to depart one day. Fortunes, generations, entire cultures, even life itself comes and goes. Is there anything that stays behind?

33 give their lives to unmask the anger of one boy. The boy becomes a man. His life, arising only to pass. Only to take away. Anger remains.

Tears flow through the country. Making us feel. Something within us comes alive. It gives rise to a new reality, a new compassion takes form. Our hearts race, reach out, and sometimes, tears actually leak from our eyes. In our despair we actually begin to feel what it is to be human.

What kind of a place is this?

Tragedies come and go, lives lost forever, yet the rest of us still find ground beneath our feet. One way or another, life moves on. The sun rises again.

Two teenagers pull guns out of duffel bags and destroy entire livelihoods. That was 1999. Twin Towers explode. A tidal wave consumes entire cities. A hurricane touches down to teach us that we are not invincible. And yet, here we are, invincible. A war destroys an entire country, mothers cry out. Leaders, steadfast in their charge, say that lives are not lost in vain, yet we do it again… and again, and again. That was Vietnam.

What kind of a place is this?

The sun sets. Sends us into darkness, only to beckon us again with the chirping of birds. It gives us rise only to set us down again. A pattern emerges. Light and Dark, joy and pain, exhilaration and disappointment, Love and sacrifice all tied together.

We chastise those who grasp at more than is needed, secretly wishing that our own reach was vaster than theirs. Lovers betray one another. The secrets that we harbor in our minds would betray everyone we know.

We send our children, our own flesh and blood, to teachers whose salaries we would never accept for ourselves.

What kind of people are we?

What kind of a person am I?

Trapped between trying to build a new life and submitting to my past’s patterns. Childhood memories still shape the decisions of my life. Unable to control all of my thoughts I see the direction of my life shaping itself. Was my destiny shaped with my birth?

Seeing suffering everywhere and still I am consumed by my own discomforts. I still find it necessary to smile, to laugh, and to enjoy despite all the chaos that intrudes this planet. I celebrate birthdays, promotions, and even unexpected (and unwarranted) moments of joy, despite not knowing what this entire experience is all about.

A soldier asks why 3000 lives weren’t honored like the 33. An Iraqi woman asks the same about 100,000. And me, I’m just trapped thinking about why someone lied to me.

But it does all arise to pass. And in doing so, hopefully there is hope, that it teaches us something. That it refines us somehow, makes us better at who we are, and at what we are supposed to be doing in this diminishing existence. Time passes by, we get older, nearer to the days when we can no longer remember. The moment is now. To rise up, embrace the sun, the warmth, the birds, and the calling for a new day. The sun sets, only to call for us again the next morning.

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