Thursday nights I’m taking a class on Buddhist ritual at the local university.  I’ve enjoyed a lot about it, not the least of which have been my classmates.  The first night we had a chance to introduce ourselves and say why we were there, and I left all warm inside.  Such a diverse and good-hearted group, coming from many traditions and there for a mix of soulful reasons.

But last night…

Last night was very bad.  Each week a different practitioner comes to share about a different ritual, and this week was meditation.  Meditation:  fine enough. 

But the instructor turned out to be a very prestigious fellow…with a very jaded persona.  As he lectured and answered questions, he stomped all over things that many in the room hold sacred.  He tore down meaning from a variety of religious traditions and spiritual practices (including his own).  He said he doesn’t believe any of it, and couldn’t give a reason for why he personally meditates, for why he converted from atheism to Zen.  He left us with only an empty skeleton of theory to stand on, and the bitterness of nihilism in our throats.

I have many thoughts as I leave that experience.  One is how deadening and disheartening it is to be in the presence of a soul like that.  I’m not a stranger to anomie, to cynicism, to a jadedness that masks a roiling rage, or a wrenching well of grief inside.  I will not say to anyone “just be happy.”  I will, however, suggest that the souls around us are immensely worth protecting, and too the fragile hope that many of us work hard to maintain:  that life is holy, that there is wonder in the world, that sacred ritual nourishes important parts of us, that there is meaning and joy to be discovered, even in unlikely places.  When our darkness grows big enough that we can’t contain it, that we can’t keep from trampling those around us, I think we have no business leading.  We have no business being people who teach and are imitated.

Our instructor should not have been with us last night.

Nourishing hope and joy and a sense that life is good are some of the noblest and most courageous acts we can do in a world like ours.  And I think it’s quite alright that we can’t always get there – even that many of us will never get there.  But when possible, when we know ourselves or those around us well enough to recognize when hope is being killed, I think standing up with a guttural NO is what’s needed – a “NO, I will not sit back and let important things die.  I will not sit passive as I or those around me spread death.”

Mama bears are what we need sometimes, even coming from within to deal with parts of our own selves.  Mama bears that rear up and roar and then know when softness is needed again.

This entry was posted on Friday, April 29th, 2005 at 11:07 am and is filed under Psychology, Mindfulness, Bridge-building, Religion/Spirituality. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.