Living Nonviolence

How Occupy Stole Christmas

2011-12-23T09:21:00.000-08:00

Dr. Suess was the first author many of us learned and loved. This time of year it is the Grinch. I remember how I looked forward each year to seeing the Grinch on t.v. and hearing that wonderful deep narration by Boris Karloff and the singing voice of Thurl Ravenscroft (also Tony the Tiger for my generation t.v. viewers and cereal munchers). It was the highlight of the Christmas season. I've often wondered why that show, of all Christmas shows, was the one that was a must see for me. Charlie Brown was cute, but not that interesting. Rudolf was downright sexist (have you seen it since the 70s?). There was Frosty and the others, but none captured my attention the way that the Grinch did. Recently, I was asked to do a reading for a group that would help blend the message of the Occupy movement with the season and I immediately thought of my favorite childhood Christmas show. Here's what I read:

It was quarter past dawn...
All the Whos, still a-bed
All the Whos, still a-snooze
When he packed up his sled,
Packed it up with their presents! The ribbons! The wrappings!
The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!
Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mount Crumpit,
He rode to the tiptop to dump it!
"Pooh-pooh to the Whos!" he was grinch-ish-ly humming.
"They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!
"They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!
"Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
"The all the Whos down in Who-ville will all cry BOO-HOO!"
"That's a noise," grinned the Grinch,
"That I simply must hear!"
So he paused. And the Grinch put a hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.
It started in low. Then it started to grow...
But the sound wasn't sad!
Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn't be so!
But it WAS merry! VERY!
He stared down at Who-ville!
The Grinch popped his eyes!
Then he shook!
What he saw was a shocking surprise!
Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any presents at all!
He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming!
IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?
It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
"It came without packages, boxes or bags!"
And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.
"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

What was the Grinch's complaint after all? He was disgusted by the materialism of the holiday. I feel this same disgust each and every year. It's only exacerbated by the fact that I now have a 7 year old that thinks Santa should bring everything her heart desires.

So what would happen in the US if families woke to find their homes "robbed" of all the Christmas loot? I doubt we'd all join hands and sing in the streets. You could probably even determine a person's political leanings by their reactions. The Republicans would be looking in all the nearby neighborhoods and stealing what they could to make their own Christmas seem a little better (aided by the US Military naturally). The Libertarians would form a well armed posse to seek out the sneakly 'ol Grinch and then they'd shoot him and mount him over a fireplace. The Democrats would wait to see what everyone else did and then try to do what the Republicans are doing all the while smiling and assuring everyone that all is well. There would be the idealistic folks that hold hands around the city tree downtown and sing - and they would be happy. Then there are those of us who would be busy researching all the activities, blogging about it, tweeting it out, posting on Facebook, flash mobbing, and having a protest about it, but once we're certain that the Republicans are not behind the whole thing we might join hands and sing too. The young, the visionaries and those who can see into tomorrow because it belongs to them, they would bring a tent and set it up by the tree, and they start singing loud enough to scare the Republicans, Democrats and Libertarians. Those of us busy networking the event feel our hearts grow at least three times larger watching their courage and loving the sound of their voices rising up. They are the Spirit of Christmas and of the Rebel Jesus. They are the ones feeding the homeless. They are the ones acknowledging the true worth and dignity of each living being. They are the ones experimenting with real democracy at each General Assembly, sitting for hours to make sure even the smallest Who has a say. It is their voices that soften the Grinch in people like me this season. Merry Christmas Occupy!

PreOccupied

2011-11-16T13:38:00.000-08:00

I completed my fifth year at Novellus Systems Inc where I manage the analytical lab and virtual library. One of the benefits of this passage of time is that I was given a five week sabbatical. So this was my year. I was allowed to split up my time so my first week was spent at a retreat with Thich Nhat Hanh in Vancouver BC with my daughter. The retreat posed many challenges for me, and as the Buddha would suggest, the rewards were equally remarkable. Since my daughters birth I had come to compartmentalize my life - there's the spiritual woman on her journey to truth, the student of nonviolence, the worker and the mother. As you may note I'm missing some crucial aspects of my life, but I'm still a work in progress. On this retreat the biggest challenge was bridging my parenting role with that of seeker. There was a constant tug between meeting her needs and following my own desires for the experience of mindful living in the larger community of lay followers. After a few battles of will I finally realized that becoming the mindful parent was the beneficial outcome. I had to let go of my attachment to a version of myself that was at odds with what I needed to be in that moment. For the benefit of my small happy family I let go of it and came back to the present moment to give my daughter what she most needed - me. My child is my practice just as much as sitting on a cushion is my practice or walking in nature or nonviolence. It was not a lesson learned gracefully, but learned nonetheless.

As I looked over my calendar and contemplated my remaining sabbatical time I noticed a particularly busy time coming up in October so I scheduled three weeks off, from October 3rd through the 21st. The USNPCA typically has it's conference the weekend of Indigenous People's Day (aka Columbus Day). This year we decided to move it to Spring. I decided to keep the time off scheduled so I could work on my new screen play and prepare for a training I had committed to that looked at the C-LARA technique for dialogue through the lens of trauma awareness for interested staff at Sister's of the Road. My daughter's birthday is October 8th, so I also had a birthday party to organize. Then I had a couple web projects to start on and a presentation to give in Memphis for the PJSA/Gandhi-King Conference.

As my time off approached I watched with curiosity as the Occupy Wall Street action unfolded on September 16th. I was pleasantly surprised by the turn out and the adherence to nonviolence. The week before my sabbatical started I heard that Portland would begin it's own solidarity occupation on October 6th. As I eased into my lab free days I was called by my good friend Tom to assist in a deescalation training for some of the organizers for the Occupy Portland action. It was naturally on the same night as my training at Sisters - so I requested Sisters to reschedule and they gladly did for the following Wednesday morning. This was my first interaction with the local Occupy team. Most were well versed in social movements and yet we heard subtle rumblings on the "diversity of tactics" topic. It seems that every movement is plagued by this. It's like a badly scratched record that skips to the ending before it even begins. The following morning the organizers began their rally by meeting together for prayer and meditation. They held firm to the power of nonviolence and the people came - thousands of Portlanders came with their children and their grandparents. I saw all generations standing there at the waterfront. The police were relaxed and jovial. The 99% united in a moment of truth. It was nonviolence manifest and a beautiful thing.

My next week started with word through the counter recruitment network that the Portland Public School Board intended to vote on Starbase again, and soon, as well as an option to allow counter recruiters into High Schools. Another parent and myself crafted a letter for the board and principals of participating schools to please reconsider DoD Starbase, a civil-military program that introduces fifth graders to high tech military careers. I then collected signatures from local organizations to increase the impact of our humble request. We collected 25 organizational signatures. I had also started a petition in September that asks the Board to end this program. By the night of October 17th, the night of the vote, we had 141 signatures to present them with. One of the parents who had originally started the movement 6 years earlier lost her temper during the proceedings, undermining our effort to remain respectful and professional. When thinking about 10 year olds being bussed to a military base for a week of physics fun followed by career counseling on military jobs, it's easy to lose one's hold on emotions and slip into a tantrum, but as a strategy for success it rarely works. Working against militarization of youth in our culture has taken a front seat in much of my work. Even the presentation I would give the following week in Memphis was on this topic. So few realize how insidious this is, but when you begin to read comments in local papers that rant about the "anti-war" people, the veil will lift. Etched into the angry words is a common fear that the American way of life is not only wrong for the planet and the life on it, but inherently evil. Programs like Starbase attempt to indoctrinate the next generation into this accepted view that the U.S. is at the top due to it's military, it's willingness to use violence and Divine sanction. It's my hope, and those of others in this work, to broaden the American vision to include the rest of the world.

While in Memphis the angry parent from the board meeting proceeded to verbally assault members of the Portland Public School board via email. The language was violent, even inappropriately employing curse words and repeating obscene military chants. She went to the extreme of tying Starbase to the tragedy in Columbine and pointing her finger in blame to these people if any such tragedy were to happen here. Admittedly there is a connection between militarism and cultural violence, but we must also consider media, parental acceptance of guns and gun violence, access to guns, bullying, and a host of other issues. If I believed that ending this program would eradicate all potential for violence for our children, I'd make the ultimate sacrifice to stop it. But it's only one cog in a much more complicated machine. Remaining true to my convictions I intervened in the discussion sending a private email to the parent asking that she take it down a notch and suggesting she might look into a workshop on nonviolent communication. My intervention worked, but not the way I'd hoped, as all her rage turned from the board member toward me. Her vitriolic reply was copied to all, enraging yet another of the group. When one other activist in our group defended my stand he also became the object of her scorn as she ranted about our personalities and how we live our lives but not about our tactics, or what was really the core issue causing her anger. The second person that defended her argued for the diversity of tactics, justifying any language necessary to shock the board members. No matter how unlikely it is that cussing out the board members will result in a vote in our favor, they insist on the right to do it as representatives of the group. As a result I have largely withdrawn from the group but continue to work with other groups that have adopted a clear nonviolent code of conduct.

During the conference in Memphis we were gifted by the presence of many academics, K-12 teachers and activists from across North America. Occupy Memphis was in full swing and many from the conference joined them for a march to the Lorraine Hotel, where MLK Jr. was assassinated. As I watch the Occupy movement grow in number Dr. King often comes to mind. I believe his work to bring poverty to the attention of the world was what motivated his assassin. He would be so proud of this new Occupy movement. Maybe one day the rich will realize that the best way to stay in positions of advantage is to make sure there is no poverty. Dolores Huerta gave a cheer for the 99%, "Si, Se Puede" - Yes We Can. Another great soul Pancho Ramos Stierle told us about Karma Kitchen and how we all should practice radical kindness. I had met Pancho years before in Oakland while there for an educators for nonviolence conference. Then he and his family stayed with us at Whitefeather and my daughter just adored him. He gives the best hugs and simply exudes loving kindness to all he meets.

While at the conference I listened to a great panel discussion on principled versus strategic nonviolence. What I loved most was that the question of nonviolence was not at issue, there was no talk of the diversity of tactics amongst this esteemed group of panelist including Michael Nagler, Matt Meyer, Elavie Ndura, and Daryn Cambridge. Gene Sharp provided 198 nonviolent tactics in his book and since then at least that many more have been added. There is no shortage of diversity of tactics. Maybe tactic is the wrong word, it's more like a vibe. Will the movement honor a welcoming grandparents and child friendly vibe so that the real 99% can participate. Or will it take on an adversarial and violent vibe that only the young and immortal can participate in.

My three weeks of corporate freedom have long since ended. I watched as the Nov. 2nd General Strike happened in Oakland - amazed by the people power. The next morning I was saddened to see that the diversity of vibes had won the media with images of violence. But on the morning of the 14th I saw this image, of my friend Pancho Ramos Stierle, mediating at the Occupy Oakland. He was one of 32 people arrested during the sweep early Monday in Frank Ogawa Plaza. Now he faces deportation. His action has brought awareness of the growing issues facing our immigrant population along with the issues already being forced into the open by the Occupy movement. Looking at the various images from Oakland, it is with Pancho that I most resonate and feel the force of peaceful protest. I would gladly take my daughter with me to sit with Pancho. He has learned the lesson that I struggled with in August, and that the angry parent from Portland still struggles with - sometimes we have to let go of our own narrative and do what's best for the larger family of One. After all, isn't that what we're asking the School Board to do, the police, the politicians, and the 1% - how can we do any less.

Pancho's arraignment is at 2pm on Wednesday the 15th. Please sign this petition for his release. If you are in Oakland, be a peaceful presence at the courthouse. Thanks!

http://www.change.org/petitions/free-pancho-now

How Empires Fall

2011-10-03T09:13:00.000-07:00

This is not my work, but from another site. I found the historical parallels quite interesting. I'm hoping the ending will be written differently for America in that the masses rise up nonviolently, ending the US power projection abroad, creating a new egalitarian democracy and living up to the dreams of our founding fathers.

We all know that our empire is falling apart (read Johan Galtung's The Fall of the US Empire). It is up to us to define what replaces it.

Reading the research of Chenoweth we now know that to create lasting democracy it must be a nonviolent people's movement. A violent revolution typically only brings a more oppressive leadership, or just more of the same. We seeing the beginning of this now, with Occupy Wall Street which is spreading to Financial districts in many major cities. If you participate, please take a pledge of nonviolence. Let's stand together to make this country better for all of us, the 99%.

The link to the original piece is at the bottom if you're interested.

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The Romans (Americans) called the people who lived outside the Roman Empire barbarians (foreigners, terrorists or aliens). In the 4th century AD the Roman Army (US Military) had considerable difficulty in stopping these Barbarians (terrorists) from entering the Roman Empire (including all the occupied territories like Iraq, Afghanistan, all of Latin America - well, shucks, doesn't the whole world really belong to the US). The Romans were forced to increase the size of their army. By the end of the 4th century AD it had grown to 600,000 men. Of these, 250,000 were stationed on Rome's northern borders (occupied nations).

Taxation had to be increased to pay for this large army. These taxes were higher than most people could afford and created wide-scale poverty (doesn't the war economy work for you?!). Some people were forced to sell their children into slavery (or just ignore them and let the gangs or violent media raise them), while others died of starvation.

Plague also became a problem and during one outbreak people in Rome were dying at the rate of 5,000 a day (you just can't afford a good health care system when you have wars to pay for). The population of the Roman Empire began to fall dramatically (the true blue European bred Americans that is) and this in turn reduced the numbers of people available to join the army.

The growth of Christianity also created problems for the Roman Empire. Large numbers of Roman citizens became monks and refused to get married and have children. This not only contributed to the fall in population but also reduced Roman tax revenues.

Some Christians claimed that Jesus had preached non-violence (radical religious zealots). Christians who interpreted the words of Jesus in this way often refused to join the Roman army. Even citizens who were not Christians were reluctant to join, and emperors were forced to recruit slaves, gladiators and criminals (Want to become a US citizen or join the biggest baddest gang on the planet?). It was also decided to employ barbarian mercenaries (Blackwater Boys or We don't practice torture but you're not staying in a US prison...). This created long-term problems as the barbarians did not always remain loyal to their Roman paymasters (Saddam, you'll be sorry...).

Some Roman citizens, upset by heavy taxation and suffering from poverty, formed themselves into an armed resistance group called the Bagaudae (The Tea Party). This movement started in Gaul in AD 283 but during the 4th and 5th centuries spread to other parts of the empire. These groups of rebels attempted to set up their own independent states within the empire (Waco TX, Ruby Ridge and who knows where else) but the Romans, with the help of barbarian mercenaries, were eventually able to crush them.

However, with the Roman army spending more and more time suppressing its own citizens, it became easier for the Germans to defeat those guarding the frontiers. Between AD 406 and 419 the Romans lost a great deal of their empire to different German tribes. The Franks conquered northern Gaul, the Burgundians took eastern Gaul, while the Vandals replaced the Romans in Hispania.

The Romans were also having difficulty stopping the Saxons, Angles and Jutes overrunning Britain. In AD 410 Emperor Honorius warned the Romans in Britain that they could no longer rely on reinforcements being sent from other parts of the empire.

Sculptured relief of Roman soldiers fighting the barbarians.

Alaric, a Visigoths leader, took part in several campaigns under the Romans. However, when he did not receive the expected promotion in the Roman Army, he led his people against the empire (Is this next?). Alaric now demanded that the Visigoths should have their own independent state. In AD 410 Alaric's army was strong enough to enter Rome. Roman slaves joined with the Visigoths in sacking the city. With the slaves joining his army, Alaric now had 40,000 men at his disposal. After roaming around the Roman Empire, the
Visigoths eventually decided to settle in Aquitania.

In AD 435 Gaiseric and his Vandal army captured Rome's African province. As Rome relied heavily on African food, this was a serious blow to the survival of the empire. From his base in Carthage, Gaiseric was able to launch sea-raids on Rome. In AD 455 Gaiseric was strong enough to invade Rome and plunder the city.

In the years that followed the Romans also lost southern Gaul. It now became clear that it was only a matter of time before the Roman Army would be completely defeated and the Barbarians who had been recruited into the Roman army began to desert in large numbers (Where's the loyalty?).

In AD 476, Odoacer, leader of the barbarian mercenaries in the Roman army, overthrew Emperor Romulus Augustulus, and installed himself as King of Italy. The Roman Empire in the west had come to an end. However, the eastern empire, ruled from Constantinople, continued for another thousand years. It was not until 1453, when Mehmed II captured Constantinople, that the Byzantine Empire, as it became known, ceased to exist.

http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/ROMbarbarians.htm

Before you Engage, Disengage

2011-08-07T21:17:00.000-07:00

Last Spring I took a class on engaged Buddhism and one of our readings was Thich Nhat Hanh's book Interbeing. The book covers fourteen trainings, or precepts, to guide the engaged Buddhist. In this post I'll share some thoughts on the first. If you have thoughts to share I'd love to see your comments.

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Aware of the suffering created by fanaticism and intolerance, we are determined not to be idolatrous about or bound to any doctrine, theory, or ideology, even Buddhist ones. Buddhist teachings are guiding means to help us learn to look deeply and to develop our understanding and compassion. They are not doctrines to fight, kill, or die for.

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We are all seeking Ultimate Truth, but we must recognize that the conventional, or relative truths that we deal with in social justice and human rights are dynamic. Our version of truth is too often one sided, leaning to the benefit our own sense of righteousness. Those who protest the inhumane slaughter of whales and dolphins by Japan, but later sit down to a steak dinner, are pinched in hinge of relative truth. They can clearly see that the violence of a dolphin slaughter by others far away is wrong, but yet can turn a blind eye to the slaughter and suffering they ignorantly promote by paying for the flesh on the plate before them. A similar dilemma comes up with female genital mutilation which we take voice against, while we conveniently ignore the fact that our own infant sons endure their first cruelty from the world upon their birth with the archaic ritual of circumcision. By releasing ourselves from views and rigid dogma, we can untangle our perception of the world from our culture and religion.

Blind faith and obedience to religious leaders has caused so much sorrow in the world. Some of my first recollections of church were not kind. My parents were pleasant and friendly to people while at the church, but on the drive home they would pick them apart, speculating on this and that persons flaws, while reminding my brother and I not to repeat a word of what we heard. There were too many examples of hypocrisy in the churches we attended in my youth. It didn't seem to me that the message from the pulpit made much impression on the folks in the pews. Speech, thought and action were somehow out of sync. When we think about human nature one characteristic that seems true to me is the need for the world we perceive to make sense with the world we've constructed in our mind. When there is discrepancy in these two worlds we can either undergo personal introspection and analysis to see our way to a new level of truth or we can take the easier route and sacrifice truth and instead blame some aspect of the outside world for not matching up. To me, this is where religious extremism comes in. This isn't to say we shouldn't envision a better world in our mind and then work toward that goal. Have you ever gone a trip and had every detail work out exactly as you planned ahead of time? And when that plan didn't work out how did you respond? Did you give up and go back home, or yell at the airline attendant or taxi driver or hotel concierge? Or did you ask the locals for alternatives, did you adjust your thinking to the new truth and move forward with a smile.

One reason that Nonviolent Peaceforce is so effective is their dedication to non-partisanship. So many conflicts are delineated along national, ethnic or religious lines, so that a peace army must cautiously walk on the line of neutrality in order to build the necessary trust of all parties involved. In a time of political and religious fanaticism it is vital that the vision of the nonviolent warrior remain clear. We are living the global consequences of clinging to ideas.

In a few hours I will be on Amtrak, headed to a week long retreat with Thay. I feel so very fortunate to have such an opportunity as this and even more so that I can share it with my daughter. I will also share with those stopping by this blog. With deep bows of gratitude.

Mother's Love

2011-06-06T14:49:00.000-07:00

This video of the cat hugging her kitten has gone viral to an extent rarely seen. The comments are in every language. I've watched it several times myself and each time I feel warmth radiate from my center accompanied by a sensation of belonging and love. Every human on this planet shares the desire for mother's love. I hope most have experienced this as infants, but the reality is that still so many do not. It wasn't even until the 1950's that we began to understand just how important this affection between a primary caregiver (doesn't have to be biological mom) and an infant really is. So much of our future happiness, our intelligence and our ability to engage in the world hinges on those first few months and years. It's so interesting to me that our species has roamed the planet in our current form for ~300k years, and yet only in the last 50 years have we begun to really understand who and what we are in a scientific way. Yet as we watch this video we can't help but feel the stirrings of our true self as a dependent, social animal that thrives by love. Maybe if we could stop torturing our primate cousins for the answers, and begin listening to our own intuitive knowledge we would find these answers much more readily. We are all needy. We are not islands.

Extending this to our political world it becomes clear why the American experiment is failing. Americans have come to value independence so greatly that we continue force our young towards that goal from the beginning, often isolating them in a crib apart from the warmth and heartbeat of a loving adult from the moment of birth. The message of "dog eat dog" capitalism pounds viciously against our need for cooperation. This is the natural outcome of a population of adults who as infants were left to cry themselves to sleep in a dark room night after night, eventually realizing that there is no one, not even their mother, who will come to their rescue or assuage their fears. Our brains wire to this reality creating a person that will be more aggressive, less compassionate, and less happy. When primates are isolated the desperation and later, depression, become so intense they begin to chew their legs as if attempting to end their time in this existence, and many just die. I think America is suffering from too much independence and now seems to be gnawing at itself in a national suicide attempt. But maybe this little kitten is our suicide hotline. Let yourself open to that sweet message and hug your children often.

Missed Perceptions

2011-04-21T14:15:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about perception a lot lately. The beginning of this reflection was prompted by a recent trip in a zip car. As I turned on the wipers and began to crawl through the NE maze to I-5 I became aware of how little I could see. Even after the foggy windows cleared I could only glimpse the world through windows and mirrors with many blind spots. Driving gives a false sense of security, of being safely ensconced in this metal box which could in an instant become a steel trap or worse, a coffin. This sense of security leaves the mind free to roam miles away from the moment, to take a quick look at the latest text message, change the radio station or take that call, giving way to irritation and anger when other drivers, cyclists or pedestrians call the mind back to sudden awareness of present moment and requiring a split second response. Why is it that we get so irritated when people demand our attention at the present moment, shouldn't we already be there?

When riding my bike the blind spots, foggy windows and mirrors are gone, my vision of the world around me limited only by the flexibility of my neck. I can see in front and behind, but never both. The mind becomes focused on the next moment, will that car turn, will they stop for the sign, is the light going to change, where's the next clear space that I can dart through, and on and on. The mind wanders less, feeling the cool air and rain on the face reminding that every moment counts. The scenery speeds by, lost in a blur. No time to stop and smell that newly bloomed red tulip.

Then there are the days that I take to the streets on foot. The world unfolding slowly, each step moving me seconds through the mile. Time to smile, wave, give a buck, smell a flower, watching the cyclists whiz by in deep focus and motorist motoring by in their own oblivion to the sweet smelling tulip that my daughter and I stop to inhale.

I deeply cherish these slower moments lately. Ten days ago I experienced the world from yet another vantage point, a new perspective, that dropped me to stillness. It was a normal Monday. I cruised to work on the bike, enjoying the strong pulse of energy and oxygen surging through my sunrise express to the Portland waterfront. About two hours into my work day I began to experience a discomfort in the center of my chest. As the day progressed the discomfort demanded more of my attention. By the time I was reunited with my bike I doubted my ability to ride. By then my breathing was shallow and attempts at deep breathing caused a surge of pain into my neck and ears. So I abandoned the bike, bused to my daughter's school and then we walked to another stop to catch a bus to the ER. The courteous staff at Legacy Emmanuel wasted no time in collecting EKG data from me and entertaining my six year old daughter. During my five hours in the ER I had ample time to practice mindfulness, taking comfort in the embrace of the compassionate Tara as her mantra diverted my mind from worries of the unknown. As I was being wheeled to the CT Scanner, my housemate walked with my daughter down the same hallway and out of the ER. In that frozen moment I felt a tear escape realizing that if my lease on this body was soon to end I had surrounded myself and my daughter with an amazing network of loving adults and young friends that would be there to help her on her journey. In those moments I didn't think about religion, politics, my activism, the unfinished screen play, books and poems. All of these concerns evaporated and in the remaining residue of my life I found only love and gratitude.

Before the night was over I had blood work, chest x-rays, a CT Scan and the relief of knowing I did not have a heart attack or anything growing in my lungs. Again, the supportive housemate came to collect me at the ER. I found a sleepy eyed and smiling daughter in my bed, where I gladly curled up next to her for some sweet slumber. One week later all trace of the pain was gone. I see a cardiologist next week just to make sure all is indeed well with my heart.

I haven't resumed my daily bike rides yet, but have opted for the slower route. My daughter and I are monitoring the tulips each day, anticipating which ones will be fully open and admiring the variety of color they bring to our day. There's a particularly sweet smelling red one on the corner of Multnomah Blvd and NE 21st St. So if you rambling by in your car, or rolling past on a bike, you just might want to park it a moment and get out to inhale it's rich aroma. Oh, and there's another little red one hiding it's vibrant colors under the next bush over. It is amazing the world that exists just beyond our vision.

Walking in Sunshine

2011-04-08T20:48:00.000-07:00

I've been walking more lately. Riding the bike at rush hour with a kiddo on the back is stressful whereas walking is quite the opposite. Admittedly it takes longer but I have more time between getting off the bus downtown and when I need to be at Alexa's school which is across the river and up 16 blocks. It's only 2 miles so I can be quite leisurely with it. Today she went to her father's and I still walked, in the sunshine!! I forgot how much I love walking (and sunshine).

It would be hard to to plan, but if you're ever in Portland on the first sunny day after about 30 days of rain you're in for quite a show. Just take a stroll in South East for the most interesting people watching you'll ever experience. Everyone is happy. Young girls with glowing white skin will skip around like their only eight, giggling as if they just spied a grasshopper in tall grass. As we shed our layers of fleece and fuzz, the newly adorned winters artwork from the local tattoo artists shine in techno color. The food carts become social centers for all the cool hipsters, freaks, geeks and hippies. The crazy bikes parade down the street, taller than the Humvees and wayyyyy cooler. Even our homeless are smiling and gregarious. I stopped and chatted with Ron, a heavy set disabled man. I asked him if he had been responsible for the sun's appearance today. He laughed and said he was going to ask me the same thing. We talked about Obama (a sign he carried asking how we liked Bush dark - Obomba ), our government, the empty houses and all the evils of capitalism. I asked if he had enough for dinner that night, he said he could use a little more so I dug out my last three bucks. I told him it was the least I could do for the guy who could get the sun to come out. We waved farewell as if we were great pals, both happier for the interaction with our fellow human.

There is so much wrong in the world and yet there are these special days filled with moments fleeting yet somehow frozen in time where everything becomes crisp, clear and perfect. The world fills me up with its beauty providing this brief glimpse of how it could be if only we would let it. May I learn to see every day as if it is the first break of sun after a long darkness.

My Resurrection

2011-04-05T12:11:00.000-07:00

The taste of damp sweet Spring teases the palate
A craving for warmth sends chills deeper into bones
Tiny green sprouts struggle for survival
Feeding upon the humus of the old
Birth and death reflected in a drop of morning dew

As the shadows of winter fade my journey turns
Once maiden, then mother
resurrecting once again
Dipping an apprehensive toe into cool wise waters
Enter the crone

As fertility of my flesh fades
Seeds of creative freedom sprout
Feeding on memories of pain, passion, of youth
Dipping the quill into the dark
Rich ink of the soul
May life begin again

Last Sunday Rev Sinkford spoke about resurrection, how we are born and reborn many times in our life. One life change shaking us up and moving us in new direction. Pema Chodron dedicates a whole book to the idea that when things fall apart, when the solid ground beneath out feet suddenly becomes thin as air and we find ourselves in a free fall, it's not necessarily a bad thing. These are moments of tremendous growth.

As I gallop headlong through my 45th year of this life I am confronting new realities. My eyesight is less reliable, requiring drug store cheaters to read. Allergies are cropping up that have never been an issue in the past. And now I begin the transition into the crone phase of this full and wonderful life. With the onset of menopause come new challenges. My early morning meditations are often accompanied by a hot flash or two, reminding me ever more deeply not to mistakenly think myself immortal. Sleep can elude me more with the occasional night sweat. Taking time to relax physically and mentally has become important. For this reason I have taken up knitting, finding that as I tie little knots into yarn, the tight bundles of knots in my mind loosen as do my muscles. Another great relaxation is walking back from school with my six year old daughter. The more present I am in the moment, the more relaxing it is. Mindfulness is a practice for all ages (pun intended).

I search my feelings for anything hinting of fear or anxiety but find only a sense of relief. I've wondered at this for a time and it has dawned on me that the women I most admire have all achieved their greatest accomplishments late in life. I've caught myself many times searching for gray hair on my head and being disappointed when I don't find it. I'm hoping that I have my greatest accomplishments still ahead of me. Most of the women I work with in the USNPCA and the UU Peace Action Committee are older than me and I admire their wisdom, beauty, poise and relentless persistence for the cause of peace and social justice. They are my constant inspiration and role models.

Our culture is so devoid of spirit and heart. I find myself yearning for a ritual that would connect these moments of passage with my larger sangha or social circle of friends. With first menses there is a blossoming into womanhood, the maiden. It is a busy time of love, heartbreak, work, struggle and finding our inner strength. Many cultures have beautiful rituals surrounding this rite of passage. As we birth new life, dancing with a new spirit who carries some of our spark, we connect with a deep, primitive force that makes us one with all of existence, past, present and future. By burying the placenta under a rose bush for which my daughter is named, I created our own ritual. Prior to birth our culture has the baby shower, and my pagan sisters performed a beautiful birthing ritual for me just prior to Alexa'a entry into this realm. Suckling our young we feel a sense of the order and perfection of this life, just as we doze off to sleep the new born sleep. We nurture our child and forget ourselves, focused on protecting that bit of our heart with legs, arms, and an inquisitive mind not yet afraid to engage this world. We give all we have... and then we let go. The hormones begin to slow, the family needs us less and at last there is space to create in a new way. A chance to more closely examine the cracks in the mortar to see what we have blocked away in our busy-ness. Finding wisdom hidden in the hair and mud buried beneath years of tacky wall paper. In there we are all three; maiden, mother and crone. In this sacred matriarchal trinity, I am reborn whole.

A New Year

2011-01-10T12:50:00.000-08:00

A lot has happened since my last post in July. I finished a five month web project redesigning the previous static website for United States Nonviolent Peaceforce Chapters Association into a dynamic site to help connect the chapters more closely. I assisted in organizing the Annual Conference for the USNPCA in Boston, to be held the second weekend in October. The conference was a great success. We honored Gene Sharp, or maybe he honored us by attending and giving a talk, with a nice certificate and dinner. After the conference time was slipping quickly into November, at the end of which I had to finish writing the first draft of a book chapter. In fact, while my daughter enjoyed a big feast with family, I pedaled to the Red Cross, donated a little of my life blood, was gifted a pumpkin pie for my effort and I spent the remainder of that holiday in my office writing and eating pie. After sending that off to the editors the holidays were well underway and the dark days upon us. We enjoyed a beautiful solstice celebration at Whitefeather, leaving all electric lights off while each guest lit four candles upon arrival with four wishes for the New Year. By the end of the evening the house was bright with candlelight and with renewed energy. Just before solstice an opportunity came up to join a women's community home in NE Portland with other children, so Alexa would have mates to play and grow with and my bike commute would decrease significantly. It was also a way to avoid going to see an allergist for headaches and asthma that had begun to plague my respiratory system since moving into the peace house. So quite out of the blue I picked us up and moved us over the New Year's Eve weekend. Last night my daughter and I enjoyed our first soak in the private hot tub in the back yard and I felt all the tension and hard work of 2010 begin to leave my weary bones, and today new energy is flowing in. The morning headaches have vanished and I'm using the nasal spray less and less. Although I'm a few miles South, I will continue to be an active member of the Whitefeather Peace Community.

So I begin the New year with a new perspective and energy. During the time since the IPRA conference in Sydney I've given much thought on my future and how I might bend my vocation more towards nonviolence. I've explored teaching and leading workshops and find that much to my liking. I also enjoy doing research. That's what got me into science to begin with. So my real interest seems to be in the intersection, looking deeply into the science of nonviolence and then sharing that learning with others. After looking at PhD programs in the universities across the US and beyond I began to feel a bit stranded from my source. I realized that for me this work had to be grounded in the philosophies from which it had sprung, my Buddhist leanings. So I've decided to take a slightly less traveled path and take a course at Maitripa Buddhist College in Portland titled, Engaged Buddhism: Non-Violence and Social Justice in Buddhist Thought and Practice. As one who tries to walk the path of an engaged Buddhist, this class intrigued me. This will be my first class at the college, but not my first event there. I attended a talk by Robert Thurman - I love his books, but love his public talks even more. His joviality does not come through in print as it does face to face. I feel very fortunate to live in a city with a thriving Buddhist college, and I look forward to supporting it with my tuition and my attention. After this class I'm sure my path will bend again, and I will come back to the blog and take you on that journey as it unfolds.

On another note for the unfolding year, I'm becoming more involved with the counter-militarism subgroup of the UU Peace Action Committee. Looking back on all the violence in speech, politics and action unfolding in the culture around me I see an urgent need to hold a mirror up to people. It seems we've gotten lost in the forest and can no longer see the bigger picture and how terribly disturbing it is. More and more American's are embracing violence as the way to solve their problems, from school yard shootings to assassination attempts. The NRA and it's supporters jump up and down about the right to bear arms while others are convinced that the government wants to take their guns away in order to control them and the rest of us wonder about the national insanity level and if there's any hope for a future here. I think the entire country needs a time out, liberals in one corner, the conservatives in the other and the rest of us in whatever corners they leave. While in that time out, clear your mind and just breathe for a moment. We all want security for ourselves and our families. We all want our children and grandchildren to have the resources and time to enjoy life, and a beautiful planet to enjoy as well. We all really want peace. But how to get there. That's up to what you envision during your time outs. If you're letting your imagination vision death and suffering to those you feel are to blame for your problems, then you will never have peace, nor will those around you. Take those time outs to paint the reality you desire and begin to take steps to get there. Look in the mirror everyday and try to see the good in yourself. You CAN make a difference.

There's a sticker on my bike that says, "We're all in this together". We need to help each other through this. Let's make this a New Year we'll want to remember.

Missing July but Finding My Way

2010-07-31T19:00:00.000-07:00

July almost escaped me entirely without even a single blog post. It's been such a high speed, world traveling month for me that writing has been mostly of the private note-taking variety in hopes that I might sort it all out later and make some sense, or better yet, some use of it all. I attended the International Peace Research Association, IPRA, conference early this month in Sydney Australia. It was my first time in the Southern hemisphere, and my first time mingling in the international peace community. Both firsts were expansive and exhilarating for me.

Elise Boulding was one of the founders of the field of Peace Research and of IPRA. She passed away June 24th after an amazing life brimming with contributions to our understanding of ourselves and how relate with one another. I'd heard of her through many friends and colleagues. She was one of the first financial contributors to Nonviolent Peaceforce, and the inspiration to many of the original founders and supporters. The more I learn of her the more I continue to feel her hand changing my life's trajectory. I'd all but given up on getting a PhD, but when I learned she received hers at age 50, I realized I too might be able to do it. Who knows, I might even finish by age 50. The global reach of her work has further erased borders from my imagination. I hope to work in a global capacity, raising my little wonder girl to see the world as one large home with plenty of room and food for all. Looking at pictures of Elise, her sparkling eyes and warm smile convinced me to dust off the feminist hat and fit it squarely and proudly back on my head. Women and children are key to opening the doors of peace in this world.

As I began to consider various career paths from here, I found myself perusing the classes being offered at Portland State University this Fall. As I scrolled through the Psychology I notice the class, "psychology of women" and I had to wonder why we need to study that and not the "psychology of man", which wasn't listed. It seems to me that it's the abnormal psychology of man that has put us on the brink of extinction. If we could get some better understanding of that psychology we just might be able to save ourselves. I suspect that this class was designed by men for men - feels very Fruedian.

There was no point to that last paragraph, just an amusing aside as I ponder this passing month. I try to find the unifying theory of my lifeline. I still love technology, discovery, science, both social and physical, and I can only wonder at where all these passions will lead me as they churn and swirl around with peace and social justice issues in a world gone mad with war and the suffering it brings. I wonder if humans can learn to enjoy the benefits of technology without destroying each other and the planet in the process. What a terrible shame if we can't. Our entire food system, and likewise our health, has been ruined by the technicians approach to raising crops and animals. Now our food poisons us, millions of animals live in misery without ever seeing the sun or touching grass only to die at the hands of a frustrated and under paid immigrant trying to make his own way in life by taking this dangerous unwanted work. Technology at it's absolute most evil sees its anniversary in a week, the dropping of the first atomic bomb. August 6th, 1945, America dropped the bomb, instantly killing over 100,000 human beings and slowly killing in excruciating pain another 100,000 in the days following. If you haven't read John Hersey's account of that terrible event, you must. That day, 65 years ago, Americans danced and celebrated in the streets. The day the Twin Towers fell in Manhattan, Muslim fundamentalists and others wounded by America's policies and actions abroad, danced and celebrated in the streets. We do unto others as they do unto us, over and over again in a retributive dance of death. And now technology makes it all the easier. We can watch each other die and dance on YouTube, or get instant messages and Tweets as events unfold for our brothers and sisters. And it also allows me to sit here and ramble on in this public forum or to say "I'm sorry" for America's horrible sins against humanity.

Each public event I attended in Sydney was started with solemn recognition of the First People of the area, the aboriginal tribe who had once lived on that land. There was even a public apology from the white community to the aboriginal community for the missing generations, including a march that filled the Harbour Bridge with apologetic people. The first event was followed by an annual "Sorry Day". It will take a long time to restore the dignity to the First People just as it will for the First Nations here in America. We haven't even begun the process of healing in America. White America has never offered an apology to the African Americans or the First Nations, much less offered any reparation to ease the hardships faced by over a century of subjugation, abuse and treaty violations. I for one am very sorry and will continue to work for an equal and just world.

Communication is another key to unlocking the puzzle of peace in this world. I met Birgit Brock-Utne in Sydney. She was friends with Elise and has been a global researcher since the beginning of IPRA. She's studying the relationship between security and language. She's also looking at how histories are being rewritten with the radical changes taking place in South Africa. Language, communication, technology, dignity, respect, indigenous wisdom, equality, women, children...these are the rubrics of change that we must strive to satisfy. Somewhere in this matrix I will find my way. We must learn to bridge the barriers of culture, gender, language in order to build a better world for all our children and their great great grand children. Let's not allow the human race to end with us just because of some abnormal male psychology that we forgot to study before it was too late.

Killing from a Distance

2010-06-11T11:14:00.000-07:00

The age of heroes
warriors
brave men
Fades with the parchment their stories are told on

Murder is mechanized
computerized
fun
In graphic color and surround sound war hums a new song

Only that dot blinking
A heart beat
A soul
A glassy eye can not see the tears
Cannot see the young of years

Sit safe in a bunker
while she cries
While he dies
And another dot on your screen goes out

Another dream ends
a nightmare begins
You play unseeing God with joystick in hand
As you spray the blood and brains of one "could-be" terrorist
You seed the ground to sprout a hundred more

You think you're safe
And for now you are
But we are all less safe for what you do
And who you give your dogged obedience to.

Pavlov is dead
Bite the hand
Put down the game of death
And come home.

War is over.

When you understand you cannot help but love

2010-06-11T09:40:00.001-07:00

When you understand you cannot help but love. Thicht Naht Hanh

Sometimes I feel as if I'm walking in a wold of blind, deaf and dumb creatures - my fellow humans. At the same time I also recognize that my true nature is identical to theirs in that I'm also just a walking, talking cadaver temporarily gifted with breath and thought. I'm but a speck of dust that for some mystical reason has this amazing opportunity to experience wonderment, love, fear and anger. Each and every one of us is destined to die. What death is and what happens beyond death, or what happened before our birth, no one can say. It is the uncertainty that drives myth. We build enormous stories that place our existence within a larger context, anchoring us to something permanent. But reality pricks our thoughts, constantly reminding us with each passing moment that nothing of our world is permanent.

Many are born to unfortunate circumstance of place (man-made or nature made devastation), time, or with physical limitations or ailments, or preoccupied parents. Many of us will never grow old and many who do will feel pain and sickness as the body decays, eventually forcing them to abandon the shipwreck of a body. Some may never experience the comfort of a warm and loving home while others will have it in spades. Just as we have no control over the place and time of our birth, we also can not choose the time or place of our death and I wonder if this isn't part of what drives our insanity. We try to control the middle portion of our life, that brief wink between two unknowns. In this desperate attempt to find something solid, something not changing, not decaying, not falling in or out of love, but just there, we have caused much damage to the planet and each other.

Contemplation of the nature of our existence melts away the artificial divisions that separate us from each other. Eventually we will all return to dust and mingle again with the Great Mother. Regardless of our political views, our skin color, gender, sexual identity, our intellect, our wealth or poverty, we will all be equal in the end. The addled addict begging for spare change at the train station is no less than the Donald Trumps of the world, just as the obese, video game playing American boy is no less or more than the bone thin, starving babes of Africa. The rapist and the victim, the soldier and pacifist, the mothers that kill their children and those that nurture, we will all share the same coffin called Earth. All that ever remains is the whisper of our actions carried in the breath of those that follow. Did we make a child smile? Have we opened our hearts to those who suffer to ease their pain without questioning the cause. Did you plant seeds of love as you stepped through life, or did you cling too tightly to a false belief of security and permanence?

When the Buddha achieved enlightenment he smiled. Boy, howdy, are we lucky he smiled. That when you understand all there is to understand about the reality of this existence, there is joy, there is love. There can be no more or less. Maybe this is the truest test of knowledge and understanding.

Peace and Christianity

2010-05-23T08:35:00.000-07:00

For those of us standing outside the Christian, Jewish and Muslim religions looking in often wonder how these religions claim to speak peace while at the same time they draw boundaries and build walls between themselves, each feeling that they are the chosen ones of God. I have no doubt that this is why John Lennon wanted us to imagine a world with no religion. It does simplify the equation. But the same religions used to bash and genocide indigenous cultures with are the same religions that often inspire the work of peace and justice. I support my religious siblings who take that vow of peace by peaceful means, working for justice and equality in this world.

The Presbyterian Peace Fellowship is recruiting and hoping to unite Christians in their latest campaign against gun violence. So many of our youth are embracing violence as the primary conflict resolution method because it's all they know. This is how our country settles all it's conflicts abroad and the way that Hollywood portrays all of humanity. There are many alternatives to this violent option and we, Christian, Muslim, Jew, Atheist, Buddhist, Hindu, ALL of us, must set aside our petty differences and work to save our species. We must engage our natural love of life and help remove the fog of hatred and fear from the eyes of others. Here's but one initiative you can engage in.

Gun Violence: Heeding God's Call
Friends,
The National Committee of the Presbyterian Peace Fellowship has spent the last six months discerning how to get more deeply involved in the work of preventing gun violence in communities here in the United States. We have made a decision that we would like to partner with a project called “Heeding God’s Call” that started last year in Philadelphia.
Heeding God’s Call is a partnership between urban and suburban churches who band together to ask gun dealers to sign onto an agreement that they will act responsibly. If dealers refuse to do so, the churches organize to use nonviolent direct action to call attention to the irresponsibility of the gun store owners. HGC is interested in expanding into other communities across the country, and is looking for partners like the PPF to do so.
If you would like to get involved with our effort to support and expand the work of Heeding God’s call, please send an email ppfwitness@gmail.com to let us know. We will respond with the information you will need to participate in a conference call on Wednesday night, June 2, at 9:00 Eastern Time.
Rick

To learn more about the Presbyterian Peace Fellowship here's a nice video to help you meet some of the good Christian Peacemakers in our world.

Movers and Shakers

2010-04-08T13:53:00.000-07:00

There are so many things to be afraid of in the this life, but "change" seems to be the one that gets most of us shaking. I've heard more than one person state that they prefer to deal with the devil they already know than to face the unknown. Even when change is for the best, we face it reluctantly if at all. But, for some unfathomable reason when I see change coming my way, I tend to charge into it head first and see it as a window of opportunity for even more change. Basically, if I'm going to throw my world into a tail spin anyway, I might as well tackle as many changes as I can so that once the dust settles, I'm done for awhile and can rest. It reminds me of the Buddhist practice of meditating on death. It is a major event, one of the biggest changes we each have to face, so it seems quite natural to want to practice for that moment so that as the knots of life begin to unravel we can propel ourselves into that change with the aspiration of achieving giant strides toward enlightenment and an auspicious re-birth towards that goal. My recent life changes may not get me any closer to enlightenment but they do take me closer to my goal of a more nonviolent existence.

Last month I moved. But more than just a move from one place to another, it was a move from one way of thinking and living to another. I have lived alone most of the last five years (with the exception of my daughter) and now I'm living with another adult, a fellow peace and nonviolence advocate, in a house that provides shelter to other activists working toward a world free from war and weapons of mass destruction as they pass through our lovely city of Portland. We're vegetarian (even the cats), drug and alcohol free and welcoming to new ideas and strategies for building toward that peaceful future. The house is Whitefeather Peace House, named for the Native American playwright and plowshares activist Larry Cloud-Morgan. If you're in our area you should keep an eye on the calendar for upcoming events including roundtable discussions, thought provoking films, guest speakers and of course lots of delicious vegetarian potlucks. Alexa, my daughter, welcomes all other children to visit and participate in our community.

We strive toward responsible stewardship of this planet and all its creatures, human and otherwise. To this end I will soon be car free. Between my bike and mass transit I'm finding creative ways of getting around town. It helps that I found child care that provides both pick-up and drop-off service, not to mention that my daughter loves her new friends. I'm also reaping the benefits of alternative transportation including feeling healthier, a strong sense of independence that mingles with feelings of being more connected to the human life and nature around me. I'm also learning that riding my bike in rush hour traffic provides me an excellent opportunity to practice deeper courage. I must place a certain level of trust in my fellow humans as they barrel toward downtown at 60 miles per hour on wet foggy mornings while I try to maintain my calm center and stay in the narrow bike lane.

As the dust settles and routine begins to assert itself, I find myself contemplating impermanence. The essence of this existence IS change. To fear change is to fear life itself. When I think about the movers and shakers in the world of peace and nonviolence I recognize that their acceptance of change and their flexibility in the moment was key to their courage and success. We have to recognize that change is inevitable, so why not work to ensure that the changes are good for everyone and not just a privileged few. Whether it's climate change, peak oil, police brutality, nuclear weapons, poverty, war, or any other issue, it will change but it's up to us to make sure that change happens in the right direction. It's this work that calls me and others dedicated to peace. I used to wonder what Gandhi's trainings in courage might look like, but I think I'm beginning to see how we can increase our courage simply by embracing change in its every form. Even in facing the ultimate change, that of death, may we find the courage to hold fast to the truth of nonviolence.

The Eighth Adventure in Nonviolence - Animals

2010-03-29T13:51:00.000-07:00

This Thursday April 1st from 6-8pm at First Unitarian

Gandhi once commented that "the most violent weapon on earth is the table fork." Thursday night, April 1st, we will explore the connection between nonviolence and animal rights with the help of two guest speakers.

Our first speaker is Chelsea Lincoln, animal activist and amazing vegan chef. She will share some of her journey with us and discuss how nonviolence has played part in her decisions and actions on behalf of the animal world. To see some of her great recipes and beautiful photography visit her blogs, http://flavorvegan.blogspot.com/ and http://animalkindphotoblog.blogspot.com/.

Courtney Scott will share her latest project with us. The War on Animals (http://www.beyond-productions.com/) is a documentary film that chronicles myth vs. fact about the use of animals in industry. It documents the power of industry representatives to control the message about animal suffering and death in medical labs, factory farms, rodeos, racing tracks, circuses, zoos and through animal traders like the “Class B” dealers who buy stolen pet dogs and sell them to labs and veterinary schools. The film also illustrates the many ways activists are working to alleviate the animals’ suffering, including the refuges and sanctuaries that offer a new lease on life to old or disabled farm, lab, zoo and circus animals. The film is in post production - watch for its release this summer!

Where: First Unitarian Church - Daisy Bingham Rm (below Main St. Sanctuary)
1211 SW Main St. PDX
There is a causeway between the two buildings on 12th. At the end take the door on the left, go down the stairs and then to your right.
If you find the door locked, please ring the doorbell labeled Daisy Bingham on the door to the left of the causeway, facing 12th.
When: 6pm - 8pm
Our Adventures are based on Coleman McCarthy’s Class of Nonviolence. Reading materials for each section can be viewed for free at www.salsa.net/peace/conv

Adventures in Nonviolence are part of the peace and nonviolence outreach of Peaceforce Oregon, a local chapter of the US Nonviolent Peaceforce Chapters Association.

There will be light snacks provided.

Fasting for Rachel

2010-03-18T13:05:00.000-07:00

Today is the monthly Fast for Gaza. As my stomach begins to rumble this afternoon, my thoughts travel back seven years to the day that an Israeli soldier cold-heartedly ran over Rachel Corrie, ending her short but meaningful life. This anniversary of her death is even more poignant as her parents are finally getting a hearing in Israel regarding her murder. Rabbi Brian Walt sat with the Corries in the courtroom and provides us with this heartbreaking report on his blog.

From his observations I found this short paragraph to be very telling.

There was a lot of tension in the room. Here was a Palestinian Israeli lawyer cross-examining an Israeli soldier, demonstrating the lack of seriousness of the military investigation for which he along with two others, was responsible. And this clash was being played out in front of a group of “zarim” foreigners, including the parents of the person whose death was being discussed. In this little courtroom we were watching the enactment of the complex relationships between Americans and Israel, Israelis and Palestinians, Jews and people of other faiths.

When I break fast tonight I will do so in honor of Rachel and her family. May we all be witness and stand next to them for justice.

Giving and Recieving Help - even when it's not asked for

2010-02-24T14:34:00.000-08:00

Taking the time to help a stranger seems like an easy enough task for most of us, but once the car is in gear and your mind is racing to the next stage of the day's game it's hard to put the brake on, get out of the car and offer assistance. I remember leaving a bank parking lot after using the ATM. There was an elderly man standing next to his car which had the hood up. He had a kind face and I felt ashamed as I pulled into traffic and sped off. I had basic tools and jumper cables. I'd worked on cars out of necessity and probably could have helped him out or at least used my cell phone to call someone that could. I don't know where I was headed in such a hurry, but I do remember the feeling of guilt. I wonder how many people I could help that I don't even see because I'm looking the other way. Studies show that the main reason we don't help each other is the sense of being in a rush. We're so preoccupied that we don't help.

When I'm working on something at home, my attention fully fixed on the project of the moment, and my daughter interrupts my thought for something I feel anger arise. It's taken some practice to realize that it's the same impulse that kept me from helping that man so many years back. Whatever I'm doing is more important than the well being of the other. Or more simply, I'm more important to me. My own self absorbtion is one of the biggest obstacles to my practice of compassion and ahimsa.

Walking out to my car in the grocery store parking lot one day a woman approached me and asked if I could give her a ride home. She was carrying two boxes of wine, not a light load. The day was colder than she had anticipated and she was recovering from foot surgery. Her foot was hurting much more than she expected from her walk there. I gladly gave her the ride home and enjoyed our brief conversation. I felt so good for days after that experience that I wondered if I shouldn't just don't go around offering more people rides. But she asked for help. I don't think I've ever turned down someone who has asked for help. But as a stubbornly independent person I know that asking for help is not an easy step for most of us. If the man in the parking lot had asked I'm sure I would have stopped instantly. His eyes asked and I knew it, but his ego stopped him from asking.

It is interesting to note that as debase and flawed as some like to paint the human picture, we find ourselves exceedingly happy when we give of ourselves. I chide my friends, who like myself, will suffer in isolation when ill instead of asking me or another friend for help. We cheat ourselves of some much needed comfort and also cheat our companions on this journey of the great euphoric joy of helping out. Movies that show tremendous personal sacrifice for others are the ones that bring tears, even to the tough guys in the audience. The nonviolent path is challenging, but it has many rewards.

Sometimes it's even nice to help someone without asking, maybe even anonymously. To the anonymous kind souls of the world, namaste.

Asking for and giving help...may we stop struggling with the simple things.

Connections and Fall Out

2010-02-22T14:45:00.000-08:00

When one tugs at
a single thing in nature,
he finds it attached to
the rest of the world.

~ John Muir

James Cameron's blockbuster movie, Avatar, reminds us of the subtle connections we have to this planet. Although the Na'vi are highly idealized, falling easily into the category of Rousseau's Noble Savage, it challenges us to question our version of civilization, technology, science, etc., over the simpler state of existence or have we reached a place where the two can enhance one another.

As Obama moves forward with plans to support the building of a nuclear plant in Georgia, we are reminded once again of the catastrophe that is nuclear energy. We still have no methods of dealing effectively with the waste produced. The potential hazards due to human error and time are far too great to make this a feasible option. Yet there are technologies that do work with nature to enhance our lives with electric power. Solar energy, wind power, wave power, etc. We know how these work and there are no nasty side effects like the heart breaking birth defects as noted in Tom Hasting's recent blog, Nonviolence Unplugged.

In Avatar the Na'vi could tap into the network of the planet. We need to learn to listen to our mother planet just as well. She's speaking loud and clear with increasingly severe and unpredictable weather across the planet. We may not be able to network through some cool dread locks or braids, but we can use this media, the Internet, and connect to each other to work toward nonviolent solutions to not only the energy problem, but war, hunger and so much more.

Cameron also reminds us of the deadly connection between the US military and corporate powers in this world. This is not myth. This is all too real and has taken countless lives of indigenous peoples across this planet. Even now the oil we crave is being purchased with blood, as have cocoa beans, diamonds, and anything else coveted for its profit margin. It's time to stop this monster. Cameron's film is a wake up call. Enjoy the painfully beautiful pictures painted of a planet with 10 ft tall super models and glowing forests, but be sure not to miss the message. Cameron failed to show a true solution to the problem. If the "unobtanium" is precious enough to the powerful, bigger guns will come. Without a nonviolent solution, this cycle will never end.

Simple living in tune with nature is sweet living indeed. But if we make and use technology wisely, it can enhance this existence in new and exciting ways. We can all be connected, and we can also win this battle nonviolently.

Starbase - Education that Kills

2010-02-19T06:13:00.000-08:00

In other countries children are abducted from their beds and forced to serve in a military. In our country the child recruiters don't have to go to all that trouble, they have full access to our children at school. Not only that, but the school provides the Department of Defense with the personal information on our children, unless we fill out a form to "opt-out". Under the No Child Left Behind (a program that becomes more sinister as we learn the military implications of this program) schools are required to report to Uncle Sam certain demographic information on our kids. Is your child struggling with math, chemistry, etc.? Is your child late or absent often? Is your child from a single parent home or on reduced lunches or from a poor neighborhood? Uncle Sam wants to know if your child fits any of these markers. If so your child will become the target of aggressive recruitment. But now DoD has taken another big step in recruitment strategy. Rather than go to the schools to recruit, the schools are bringing the kids, K-5, to the military bases under the guise of science, technology, engineering and math (STEM) education. Here, your child will be told about all the great career opportunities available in the military (but they won't hear about the realities of war or what these machines they are being allowed to touch and experience do to the children in Iraq and Afghanistan).

The US is struggling to maintain it's military strength over the world. We have over 1000 bases spread across this globe, residing on sovereign lands of other people. We make and sell over 70% of the arms and weapons used to kill human life on this planet. We are The Empire on this planet. In the 80's it was recognized that more and more of the capability to kill mass numbers of people on the planet's surface depended on our dominance in space. Now our soldiers use space technology and robotics to target and kill from a distance. As our military becomes more technologically sophisticated, it needs kids that can do math and have a basic understanding of science to maintain this Empire.

June 2, 2005 the Industrial College of Armed Forces published a report, U.S. Defense Industrial Base: National Security Implications of a Globalized World. In this document is a section on human capital strategies, and here we learn more about DoDs recruiting efforts using it's Starbase program. Other industry that requires STEM expertise can fill that need with foreign workers. DoD can't use a Chinese nationalist to spy on China, or trust them to follow through when the time comes to kill their own. For this DoD must cultivate the human capital here at home, and so they've come up with this insidious plan to convince children at an early age that the military is a force for good in the world, and can also be a way for them, underprivileged as they are, to get ahead in the world.

To some war hawk supporters this may seem a perfect marriage. It's a way to eliminate the next wave of poor on the streets and fill the military with more sacrificial lambs. This thinking is classism and racism. Rather than spend the $20 million on classes on military bases, let's use that to build better science labs in the schools. Rather than recruiting future soldiers, let's recruit and pay better teachers. For parents who want their children to be militarized, encourage them to join ROTC and that subset of kids can go on field trips to the military bases. Just keep in mind that these military bases store toxic materials (i.e. jet fuels) and were not designed for children. Also, we're a country in perpetual war, so a military base may not be the safest place for your precious child. You might also want to evaluate your core values and principles. War is never good for children.

There's been much in the news about the disturbing level and acceptance of violence in American culture. We have a zero tolerance for weapons on school campuses, yet we allow our children to be taken to military bases to see the big exciting killing machines. If we really want to cultivate a culture of peace, we must stop programs like Starbase. We must pull the plug on Big Brother's access to our children's personal information or at least insist that our children get all the information by allowing counter recruiters to sit side by side with military recruiters. Our children need us to take a stand now.

The board of Portland Public Schools will be voting on whether to renew this program as soon as February 22nd (unless they postpone it again). Maybe you're not in Portland but want to know if this program is targeting the children in your area, find out here. If you are a PPS parent and would like to voice your concerns to the Board, their emails can be found here. Thanks for standing up.

A Call to the Heart

2010-02-16T13:37:00.000-08:00

The monthly Fast for Gaza is this Thursday. Over the last month there have been some positive developments for the people of Gaza, including a letter urging President Obama to pressure Israel to lift the siege, signed by 54 members of congress (thank Oregon's Blumenauer for signing). Seventy-seven members of the British House of Commons has taken a similar stand. The world is beginning to take notice. As long as Hamas doesn't do anything stupid like launching bottle rockets over the wall, I hope that even more of the International community will begin to recognize the dire conditions that these people are facing daily.

On the anniversary of the brutal attack on Gaza by Israel, 1400 good people, bearing gifts and humanitarian items, from across the globe assembled in Cairo,Egypt for the Gaza Freedom March. Of that number only 90 were allowed entry into Gaza, while the reamiaining marchers held fasts and vigils in solidarity from Cairo. Since then I've read numerous accounts of the events there, but few from those that made it inside of Gaza. Today, on the FOR website, David Hartsough provides that account. David Hartsough is the director of Peaceworkers and co-founder of Nonviolent Peaceforce.

Reflection: Somehow, we have to get out of this vicious circle of violence and oppression and counter-violence. All of us -- Israelis, Palestinians, and Americans (whose government supports the Israeli apartheid regime and the war and siege of Gaza) -- must come to understand that security comes NOT through more arms and guns and oppression of others. It can ONLY come by treating all people as children of God, and with respect and dignity as our brothers and sisters. If we -- Israelis, Palestinians, and Americans -- could only understand this, we and the whole world would all be much more secure.

To read the rest of his blog:
http://forpeace.net/blog/david-hartsough/returning-gaza-60-years-later-visiting-same-refugees-my-father-once-knew

If after reading David's story of his visit you feel the urge to take some action, however symbolic, I'd urge you to join the fast, even if you just skip lunch that day. Visit http://fastforgaza.net/statement#signup
Be sure to tell your friends too, so they might participate and continue to grow awareness of this tragedy.

Goliath's Last Days

2010-02-12T15:23:00.000-08:00

The now ubiquitous peace symbol began as part of the nuclear disarmament movement in 1958. The symbol itself is a combination of the semaphoric signals for the letters "N" and "D," standing for Nuclear Disarmament. Yet, here we are more that 50 years later and further from that desired result than ever. President Obama even received a preemptive Nobel Peace Prize on a promise to disarm our nuclear arsenal, and yet in his budget he's expanding the program. Many Americans have sacrificed their freedom in order to bring attention to this issue, or to stop the expansion. And yet the majority of Americans seem to cling to the idea that this arsenal of evil is somehow keeping them safe.

In a desolate swamp somewhere between Kissimmee and Melbourne Florida on Hwy 192 is a little white house grandfathered into the Bull Creek Wildlife Management Area. I lived in this little house for a year, five miles from a paved road, and many more miles away from anything that remotely resembled civilization. As I soon discovered this tiny refuge was not only home to alligators, snakes a-plenty, wild pigs and amazing bird life, but also some of the most violent and racist men I'd ever met. There were more guns and other weapons in this tract of swamp land then there were people, and one of these guns, a shotgun, resided next to my bed within easy reach and loaded each night as I went to sleep. At the time I thought this made me safer from any human predators in the swamp, yet as I reflect on it from a new vantage point I realize it was a false sense of security at best and actually increased the level of danger. If, for example, one of these two legged swamp rats had come in drunk, but unarmed, I most like would have survived the attack, but the mere presence of the loaded gun could easily change that balance to my loss. Realistically, is the perp going to stand there and wait for me to fumble in my sleepy daze until I get a good aim? Even though I was a practised shot and knew my weapon well, I doubt I could have managed to get off a shot coming out of a dead sleep.

In wee hours of the morning I would wake to feed the animals in my care on the homestead. In the evening I did likewise, often also taking a walk several miles deeper into the swamp to watch the thousands of resident birds come in to roost. Never once did I take a gun with me, or any weapon other than Duke, my loyal boxer. Looking back I recognize that it was at these moments, and not while I slept, that I was the most vunerable to attack. Life is risky. Unless your vigilant to a point of constant paranoia, you will on occasion be vunerable. But there's a better way forward. When I learned to arm myself with nonviolence, rather than a gun, I began to feel much safer. I don't put myself into unnecessary risk, but if confronted I know that there is a creative way out for both me and the perpetrator, I just have to be smart enough to find it.

Our country could have that same enlightened intelligence about securtiy, but so far we don't. We have amassed a nuclear arsenal capable of destroying the planet many times over, and yet this overwhelming threat did not deter the 9/11 attacks. In fact, for the unfathomable amount of money our country pours into defense, it only took a pair of box cutters costing less than $5 to drop us to our knees. That alone should be enough for us to stop and rethink our security strategy. We don't need more bombs and bullets, we need nonviolent conflict management. We have over 1000 military bases across the world. In other words, we're attempting to be that ulta vigilant paranoid country I warned you about. How many foreign military installations are on American soil? none. Yet we have the gall to say that people "hate" us because they're jealous of our way of life, that it has nothing to do with the fact that we have a gun to their heads. So if I'm feeling suspicious of my neighbor, I should be able to train a missile at his bed while he sleeps just in case he wants to attack me while I sleep. I sure hope he doesn't snore. It reminds me of the Bugs Bunny cartoon where he and Elmer Fudd are chasing each other back and forth with a larger weapon each time. But the reality is that the US is so big now, and so complicated that it's the simple things that break us down. We are the Goliath and David's simple stone is headed our way. Now we're reduced to checking people's underwear at the airport and doing full body scans. I try to live as transparent a life as I can, but this is getting ridiculous. Is this freedom? Is this peace? There is a choice.

Just because you live in a neighborhood full of guns doesn't mean that having a gun yourself makes you any safer. Likewise, just because other countries have nuclear weapons, having more doesn't make us any safer. One thing that we've been learning since the beginning of unarmed civilian accompaniement in the 80's, is that if you go into a conflict zone armed, even to do peace work, you chances of survival decrease dramatically. Whereas our people going in unarmed, with clear signs of that being the case, live to do the peace work they set out to do. This is no longer conjecture, but fact. Carrying a gun will get you killed. By building up our military America has made itself the biggest badest target in the world. It's the same appeal that bringing down Microsoft has to hackers, only in this case the hackers want us dead. If we were to change our stance and begin talking with our opponents rather than sending lethal drones over sleeping civilians in the night, creating horror and more hatred, we might save ourselves the big fall that every Goliath ultimately meets. If we're educating and feeding the world, rather than enslaving it and all it's resources, we would have far fewer David's with slingshots at the ready.

I realize that we're a long way from demilitarizing this country, which is my ultimate wish. But if we can start somewhere, let's start with the nuclear weapons. No one should have to live in fear of our country doing this to them. There have been activists working on this front for many years now. They need more help. We need Americans to see these weapons as the ecological and moral calamaties that they are. We certainly don't need these in our fight against terrorism. The only other reason we would build them is to sell them, and that's even more morally bankrupt then keeping the stockpile to ourselves. Right now the media is filled with information about the dangers of nuclear weapons and energy. It's a good time to educate ourselves and act. When you're ready here's a good place to start.
http://www.nukewatch.com/

Guns are not security - you are your best security. Be smart, be safe and be nonviolent. Let's help Goliath be a friend to humanity.

A Forest of Peace

2010-02-09T11:03:00.000-08:00

What we plant
in the soil of contemplation,
we shall reap in the harvest of action.

~ Meister Eckhart

Nine strong. That's the number of Redwood sprouts growing in pie dishes at the Whitefeather Peace House. Seeds from small cones collected beneath the shade of two giants at a nearby park were gently persuaded to awaken. These fragile beings are filled with the potential of the ancient Goliaths, once the most plentiful trees on earth. The oldest known Giant Sequoia lived for 3500 years. It makes our 90 year life span seem rather puny. Yet, in our brief time we have even greater potential to reach amazing heights of awareness through action.

In the world of peace I see myself as barely a sprout. I've spent most of my years secluded from the rest of my species, a recluse, thinking and geminating my early life experiences. I was happiest alone in the forest, sheltered from opinions and egos, free to think openly with only the trees, owls and elements bearing witness. Just as the Buddha touched the earth, I touched the earth, and more importantly the earth touched me. She's absorbed my tears as I've struggled to comprehend the topsy turvy landscape of this human experience. Why do we destroy this very spaceship that gives us life? How did our vision become so narrow? Why do we create so much of our own misery? We cage those that struggle for justice while letting the criminals responsible for mass murder walk free as exalted leaders. Americans have allowed themselves to be convinced that high values like democracy, peace and justice, can be imposed on others through violence. Those pushing this propaganda know that it's not true, but as long as they reap the profit of the lies, the lies will continue. Our world is being run and ruined by the hungry ghosts, whose appetites can never be satisfied no matter how much innocent blood is shed. Suffering, sickness and death are a given in this life. Yet there is much we can do to alleviate unnecessary suffering. We can stop giving money to those who destroy life, like Israel. We can stop bombing Iraq and Afghanistan and step up to help women rebuild these nations and others, from the community level up, by educating them in new schools, providing tiny microloans, etc. If we really want to end violence there and at home, we have to end our violence both there and at home. The creative capacity of the human mind is limitless and yet so many minds walk around in their host bodies in sleep mode, closed off and focused only on grasping at personal pleasure and avoiding discomfort. When was the last time you did something creative, generous, kind and caring? When was the last time you cried for the suffering of your fellow space travellers, your neighbors, really letting their pain into your tender heart?

These questions are hard. It's much easier to watch tv, to let some blowhard tell you what to think and assure you that there's nothing you can do about it. You may, for a short time, even be satisfied with going to the 9 to 5 job, spending your money on material things destined for the land fill. Or maybe you'll be one that complains bitterly, yet does nothing, believing that somehow someone else is responsible for your misery. But if you don't wrestle with these questions now, when will you?

We all have choices in the life we lead. But when your last breaths begin to rattle in your chest and you start to untie all the knots of attachment to this world, what then will you contemplate? Will you be able to relax into the arms of the universe knowing that with each passing day you had strived to reach even higher than the day before. Will you be able to stand tall as the redwood with your roots solidly held by your mother earth and your arms reaching high toward father sky and state with confidence that yours was a good life, that you honored your parents and cherished and loved all your siblings in this existence. When you exhale for that last time, will you be at peace?

The first Whitefeather Redwood sprout appeared on Groundhog Day, and is fondly referred to as Portland Phil.

No More Guns

2010-02-07T10:23:00.000-08:00

Well it was Sunday bloody Sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the Free Derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!
—John Lennon and Yoko Ono "Sunday Bloody Sunday"

My first trip out of my own country was to (London)Derry Ireland in October 2001. It was also my first experience in a conflict zone. From the moment I arrived I was confronted by a new reality of what it means to live with the constant threat of violence and the remnants and artifacts of the violence both past and present. The city of Derry is a walled city, surrounded by a medieval, defensible fortress. Armored police vehicles crawl the streets after dark. The shop windows close their eyes at night, cold metal eyelids shuttering out the world. Any windows not covered have spiderwebs of cracks or shattered holes. Concertina wire adorns the tops of fences and walls. Surveillance equipment seems to follow your every step along these ancient streets. Graffiti and vandalism scar much of the visible facade of Derry, never letting you forget that death and violence are walking nearby in the hearts and minds around you.

There is sanctuary from the street, the pub. At night the residents of Derry take solace in jolly camaraderie. I joined in, eager to imbibe the stories of these people. How did this happen to them and why? And more importantly why does it keep happening?

By the late 60s the "Troubles" of Northern Ireland found the Roman Catholic nationalists and the protestant unionists openly fighting one another. January 1972 the people on the bogside of Derry organized a peaceful protest against the violence. The protest ended in bloodshed when the British soldiers opened fire on the protesters. These were fatal shots for 11 people, while two others were run down by armored vehicles. By firing on a peaceful gathering the British radicalized the youth of Northern Ireland, sending them to the doors of the IRA (Irish Republic Army) to pick up guns for their retaliation. Violence began to escalate, spilling the blood of many innocents. No one felt safe in their yards and homes. Everyone became suspect and neighbors lost trust and hope of each others humanity. If only Nonviolent Peaceforce, or other unarmed civilian peacekeeping, had been available to them then, much suffering might have been avoided. The walls of this city have witnessed bloody battles since the 1600s, and it was clear that it was not yet to see peace.

Few in Northern Ireland have escaped the harm of the Troubles. Nobel Laureate Mairead Corrigan and Betty Williams were deeply affected by the violence in Belfast when the three children of Mairead's sister, Anne, were run down by a member of the Provisional Irish Republic Army (PIRA). Betty Williams witnessed the event. the grief stricken mother, Anne, ended her own life. This event galvanized the women to action and they began "Women for Peace" which later became the "Community of Peace People", winning them the Nobel Peace Prize in 1976. The group began the modest work of re-education, planting the seeds of peace and nonviolence in hopes that one day these concepts would grab hold the collective imagination of the people.

I sat in my hotel room in Derry in 2001, watching the local news. Martin McGuinness, a Derry local and leader of Sinn Fein, was making an announcement to the people of Northern Ireland. McGuinness is highly respected in the local community, he was also one of the youth that had been driven to join the struggles as a member of the PIRA after Bloody Sunday. After so many years of violence, he stated, the IRA was ready to begin disarming and handing over their weapons. I sat in disbelief. As I spoke with locals I found this skepticism to be the norm. Yet there was hope. Could these people, after so many decades of fear and mistrust, learn to live in peace? Most seemed weary of violence and ready. This was a big moment. As time passed it has happened, but not until 2006. I guess it takes time for those seeds to sprout, but unless they're planted nothing will ever happen.

My five year old daughter brought in the mail the other day. Inside was a coupon booklet from Bi-Mart. It had hearts on the front for Valentine's Day. She flipped through the book to find other sweet gifts of love on the pages. She came up to me with a very concerned look on her face and showed me the page that earned this sad look. There were guns. She said "Aren't guns for war, for killing people and animals?" I told her yes, that is what guns are intended for. We both agreed that guns should not be a gift for a day dedicated to love. We will write a letter to Bi-Mart, stating of protest of their sale of guns. The members of the IRA had to obtain guns illegally, yet in our country we have the "freedom" to walk into a large box store and buy a lethal weapon. Some claim that owning a gun keeps them free, but I'd suggest that the people of Derry discovered otherwise. That the more guns on the streets, the less free they were. The more concertina wire, surveillance equipment and shuttered windows are the cost of that kind of freedom and it's not the kind of freedom we should be asking for. Let's disarm our hearts and our homes, and truly be free.

Free the Hikers

2010-02-02T05:48:00.000-08:00

This is a picture of Kurdistan, a beautiful and relatively peaceful area in Iraq that is near the Iran border. Six months ago three U.S. Hikers from California lost their bearings in this vast wilderness and accidentally stepped into Iran. They have been detained there ever since. Josh, Shane and Sarah need your support, as do their families. Visit the website at freethehikers.org to see what else you can do to help.

The Culture of War and Lipstick

2010-02-01T14:39:00.000-08:00

The sexy singer from Barbados, Rihanna, has a new video for her song "Hard". I have to wonder if she wasn't paid by the military recruiters to make this video. If she wasn't, she should have been. It attempts to make war itself desirable and sexy. It's an appeal to the "bad-ass" mentality. To me it represents so much of what is wrong with the American war culture. The real bad-asses are the ones standing unarmed in front of the guns and tanks, demanding justice and security for the innocent civilians caught in all the red-blooded, testosterone driven nationalism. I'd rather see Rihanna using her sex appeal to get the boys to put down their guns, rather than adding more bullets to an atmosphere already heavy with lead and death.

The message to young women is clear, that by adopting the "hard" violent persona you are somehow more sexy, desirable and secure. There's also the implication that your sex is itself a weapon, and that a girl can use it to control and manipulate the man's world. It's far from a new message. I got the same message when I was a young woman from Cher, Madonna, Tank Girl, etc. The messages are that "we have what they want and can use it to get what we need" and that it's somehow safer to join "them" in the game rather than to play by our own rules. What exactly is it that we need from men that we can't get from a sperm bank? R-E-S-P-E-C-T as Sister Aretha spelled it out for us all. This is the clearest message being delivered in this video, that if your woman enough to straddle a pink tank, you will have that desired respect from all men. It's a tragically flawed message.

The reality of our war on terror is that more of our soldiers have died by suicide than have been killed by the "enemy". War is not sexy. It is wholesale murder, mostly civilian. A greater percentage of female soldiers are raped while in service, Enemy within: rape in US military ranks. Their sexuality and acceptance of violence as a way of life did not protect them. They did not even get the respect of the men that they were fighting side by side with. Please, my beloved sisters, do not join this team. It can only bring suffering.

How does war affect a woman? Does she bring a soothing quality to combat? Or can she kill another woman and her children as cold-bloodedly as a man? Turns out that she can. Women have proven to be just as, if not more so, brutal than men. Often they claim that they have to be to prove that they aren't "soft". Some of the worst atrocities in the Rwanda genocide were waged by a woman,

Mother of atrocities: Pauline Nyiramasuhuko's role in the Rwandan genocide

At age 18 Israeli girls must serve in the military. They are speaking out on how that service has changed them.

Female Soldiers Break Their Silence

Sure, we can be like the famed Amazons, we have warrior hearts, but let's use that courage and ferocity to wage peace. Of the two genders women should best understand what it takes to bring a beautiful human being into this world. Let's not break each others hearts by killing those precious beings we've worked so hard to nurture. Let's own our sexuality sisters. What is more sexy than a mother nursing her child, or playing hide and seek in the park, or the mother holding the peace sign outside the White House demanding a better, safer life for all mothers everywhere. Let's make peace the sexiest game in town.

Here's a better video, join the tribe.

SOA4 Prisoners of Conscience

2010-01-28T06:14:00.000-08:00

This is the current jail where Fr. Louie is being held. He could be transferred at any time. I will post an updated address as it's made available.

Louis Vitale #15875
Crisp County Jail
197 Hwy. 300 S
Cordele, Georgia 31015

If your letter is returned you can also send it to

Louis Vitale
C/O The Nuclear Resister
PO Box 43383
Tucson, AZ 85733

I'm not certain if Nancy Gwin and Ken Hayes are at this same facility, but I plan on sending their cards here anyway. If they're returned I'll update.

Micheal Walli, the fourth of the SOA4, conscientiously did not return for trial.

A Decade Late

2010-01-27T14:39:00.000-08:00

Most of my life I've had the feeling that I was born a decade late. As a child of 1966, born to parents unconcerned with the larger world picture, the turmoil, the successes, the frustrations and the anger of the times were largely lost to me. Our parents were the disillusioned, and many passed this sense of hopelessness and helplessness on to us. The Generation X, post Vietnam babes like me, were fed on the fears of atomic obliteration, just as we began reaching out via a new super highway of 1s and 0s. Most of us came home to empty houses at the end of the day, the first latch-key generation of the dual income household. We learned what we knew of our world and how to navigate the complex spectrum of human emotion watching the Mod Squad, Star Trek and Giligan's Island. We are also the best educated of the first 13 generations in America, but we make less money as the economic pie has been plundered by the elite. The first presidential election I remember clearly was that of Ronald Reagan. I found him plastic, laughable and way too ancient to be running my country. Yes, I was exhibiting the sarcasm and cynicsm often attributed to GenXers. But like many of my generation, there was a fascination with the 60's. We listened to Jimmi Hendrix, Joni Mitchell, and I wore out more than one cassette tape of Janis Joplin. We all knew who John Lennon was and it was in his music that I could best feel the energy, passion and dreams of that earlier generation and movement. Last night I watched the movie The U.S. vs. John Lennon with a dear friend who did experience that time first hand. It made me feel much closer to that experience and see my own generation in a new light. Maybe I wasn't born too late after all.

The flower children of the sixties planted many seeds that are just beginning to bear fruit in my generation. We're seeing the permaculture movement getting traction, locavore and vegetarian eating habits are much more common, urban homesteading is getting some starts across the country, rainbow families, alternative schooling and parenting (sans tv), an emphasis on harmony with the earth, cooperation over domination, all these ideas and more are becoming mainstream ideas. As my generation faces midlife I hope that more and more will embrace the important values and principles that support life on this planet and abandon the ways of death being propagandized by our government. With the aid of web technology, developed by GenXs and Ys, the world is getting smaller and we're communicating with people across the globe, witnessing atrocities first hand rather than through a mass media outlet moderated by our, or someone elses, government. For example Twitter and the recent elections in Iran. In real time we were getting status updates from people on the ground, personal stories and impressions, not some Fox news, made for corporate power, hogwash. Activists here in America began to donne the green in solidarity, and do whatever other supportive actions that came along. The World Wide Web of human connections will change us and how we do social justice actions. Ironically the Internet was developed for military purposes, to decentralize data like launch codes so that if a missile hits one command center, another can step in and launch the counter punch. That same strategy can work for the peace movement. We need to take peace "viral".

In the movie John and Yoko put up large billboards in major cities across the world. Today we need to put those billboards up all over the Internet. We need peace signs, ads, and positive images plastered all over major sites like Yahoo, Google, YouTube, etc. If your peace group has the money, please use some in this way. As John said we need for every housewife to see that peace is a viable option. The corporations may have the major networks licking their boots, but my generation and the next are the Internet. The military might have concieved it, but we MADE it. It is so critical that we protect this. The FCC has tried several times already to shut it down, but we continue to demand uncensored access. My generation doesn't have a Walter Cronkite, we have each other, our blogs and social networking. There's already a couple examples of street protests being organized in minutes using phone texting. There are cameras at the ready to capture images of brutality and transmit them across the world in seconds. As Gaza was being bombed last December I recieved daily updates from Sameh Habeeb, a Palestinian. Fearing for his life he asked his friends at Michigan Peace Team to ask eveyone they new on Facebook to link to him. We did. He made sure that thousands of internationals were watching him through this new connection. He survived and is now travelling the world telling the stories. These are just a few applications of the new world of political and social activism. Nationalism vanishes on web and we're all just people trying help each other.

As I reflect on the protest culture and hippie movements of the sixties I feel tremendous gratitude for their work, sacrifice and determination to change this world. I see those seeds already taking hold in my five year old daughter and recognize that I'm only a bridge, or a stem with maybe a leaf or two. Hopefully my daughter's generation will be the peace flower that was planted and nurtured for the past forty years.

I'll be playing plenty of Lennon to my daughter so that she can feel the stirrings of a passion for peace.

Training the Terrorists - An American Specialty

2010-01-26T09:54:00.000-08:00

Of the two men pictured above, which would you prefer to have walking free in the world? One was trained in Fort Benning Georgia at the School of the Americas (now Whinsec) and was later responsible for massacres, rape, torture and acts of genocide against the indigenous peoples of Guatemala. The other was sentenced yesterday to 6 months for trying awaken your conscience to close this school of assassins. I know my preference.

The kindly looking man with the warm smile is Fr. Louie Vitale, age 77. Last November 20-22, as most Americans were thinking about what to cook up for Thanksgiving, Louie and over 10,000 others congregated outside Fort Benning as part of an action organized by the SOA Watch. Besides Fr. Louie, two others were sentenced to the maximum of 6 months, Nancy Gwinn, 63, of Syracuse NY and Kenneth Hayes, 60, of Austin TX. One other man, Michael Walli of the Washington DC Catholic Worker, refused to appear in court.

For those not familiar with the training provided by SOA or the illustrious man pictured above, here's a brief history lesson from Wikipedia:

The Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation (WHISC or WHINSEC), formerly the School of the Americas (SOA; Spanish: Escuela de las Américas) is a United States Department of Defense facility at Fort Benning near Columbus, Georgia in the United States.

Between 1946 and 2001, the SOA trained more than 61,000 Latin American soldiers and policemen. A number of them became notorious for human rights violations, including generals Leopoldo Galtieri, Efraín Ríos Montt and Manuel Noriega, dictators such as Bolivia's Hugo Banzer, some of Augusto Pinochet's officers[1][2], and the founders of Los Zetas, a mercenary army for one of Mexico's largest drug trafficking organizations, the Gulf Cartel.[3][4] Luis Posada Carriles was educated there in 1961, although he never graduated.[5][6][7] Critics of the school argue that the education encouraged such internationally recognized human rights violating practices and that this continues in the WHINSEC. This is denied by the WHINSEC and its supporters who argue that the alleged connection is weak. According to the WHINSEC, the education now emphasizes democracy and human rights.[8][9]

Intelligence training manuals

On June 28, 1996 a Report issued by the Intelligence Oversight Board stated that «School of the Americas ... used improper instruction materials in training Latin American officers from 1982 to 1991. ... certain passages appeared to condone practices such as execution of guerillas, extortion, physical abuse, coercion, and false imprisonment.»[16]

On September 20, 1996, the Pentagon released seven training manuals prepared by the U.S. military and used between 1987 and 1991 in Latin America and in intelligence training courses at the U.S. School of the Americas (SOA). The manuals were based in part on lesson plans used by the school as far back as 1982 and, in turn, based in part on older material from Project X.[2] According to Lisa Haugaard of School of the Americas Watch, these manuals taught repressive techniques and promoted the violation of human rights throughout Latin America and around the globe.[17] The manuals contain instructions in motivation by fear, bounties for enemy dead, false imprisonment, torture, execution, and kidnapping a target's family members. The Pentagon admitted that these manuals were a "mistake".[18]

After this investigation the Department of Defense discontinued the use of the manuals, directed their recovery to the extent practicable, and destroyed the copies in the field. U.S. Southern Command advised governments in Latin America that the manuals contained passages that did not represent U.S. government policy, and pursued recovery of the manuals from the governments and some individual students.[19] Notably, David Addington and Dick Cheney retained personal copies of the training manuals.[20]

Participation

In 2004, Venezuela ceased all training of Venezuelan soldiers at WHINSEC.[21] On March 28, 2006, the government of Argentina, headed by President Nestor Kirchner, decided to stop sending soldiers to train at WHINSEC, and the government of Uruguay affirmed that it will continue its current policy of not sending soldiers to WHINSEC.[22][23] In 2007, Oscar Arias, president of Costa Rica, decided to stop sending Costa Rican police to the WHINSEC, although later reneged, saying the training would be beneficial for counter-narcotics operations. Costa Rica has no military, but has sent some 2,600 police officers to the school.[24] In a letter to the Commandant of the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation (WHINSEC), U.S. Army Col. Gilberto Perez, Bolivian President Evo Morales formally announced on February 18, 2008 that he will not send Bolivian military or police officers to attend training programs at the institute formerly known as the U.S. Army School of the Americas (SOA).[25]

Legislative action

A bill to abolish the school with 134 co-sponsors was introduced to the House Armed Services Committee in 2005.[26]
In June 2007 the McGovern/Lewis Amendment to shut off funding for the Institute failed by 6 votes.[27] This effort to close the Institute was endorsed by the non-partisan Council on Hemispheric Affairs who called the Institute a "black eye".[28]

The man pictured above next to Fr. Louie is Jose Efrian Rios Montt, leader of the military regime in Guatemala in 1982-1983, later de facto President. The atrocities committed under his leadership included torture, rape, and genocide of entire villages in some of the most brutal and barbaric fashion. After reading Sister Diana Ortiz' account of her abduction and torture one cannot help but want to close the SOA. America has been supporting the most heartbreaking stories of repression in Latin America, using this school to train assassins who have the ability to pull out and infants fingernails in front of the mother, only to cause her agony prior to cutting her throat. Is this the America that we want to project into the world. Thanks to a whistleblower in Abu Gharib we know what atrocities we are capable of. It's time to speak truth to power and say "no more torture".

Still today we struggle to get the records released on the CIAs involvement in torture in Guatemala. The picture of Montt that I have pasted above is cropped from a larger picture that I encourage you to take a look at (and read the story associated with it), here. Yes, it is who you think, the Gipper. The dream man of the Republican party, but a nightmare to the indigenous peoples of Latin America.

If torture and repression on the rule of dictators is something you find intolerable, as I do, please take some action. I'm not asking anyone to get arrested or go to prison, unless you feel called to do so. All I ask is that while Fr. Louie, Nancy and Kenneth are serving their time, send at least one thank you note to each. I will post where to send correspondance as soon as that is availalbe. Also, continue to support the closure of this school and the release of CIA records.

Father Roy Bourgeois, a Roman Catholic priest and the founder of SOA Watch, the organization that works to close the School of the Americas said "Judge Faircloth has sentenced our sister and brothers to 6 months in federal prison for speaking the truth about the SOA/WHINSEC. We are saddened by the court's continued blindness and hardness of heart, but we are stronger than ever in solidarity. These sentences are symbolic of our nation's misdirection, but they are also great steps forward for our resistance movement. It is truer today, than ever before, that although they jail the resisters they have not, and cannot, jail the resistance!"

Growing the Garden

2010-01-25T06:23:00.000-08:00

Remember that children,
marriages, and flower gardens
reflect the kind of care they get.

~ H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

I love gardening. Starting seeds in early Spring in the house, with good soil and regular water and as much sun as the Portland sky will permit. When the seedling grows strong enough, I begin to prepare the world outside for its debut. I soften the soil for it, add some rich compost, and then, at last, plant the tender roots into the Great Mother Earth. Then comes the watching, weeding, feeding and care that will bring the plant full circle.

Caring for the ones we love, especially our children, is far more consequential to all of society. Raffi, the singer/songwriter of children's songs took his mission a step further, creating a covenant of child honouring. I wrote a blog on his idea back in September 2007 . Today I revisited Raffi's site to see what progress he's made on this mission. Just this month the Centre for Child Honouring opened its doors in British Columbia. They are reaching out to educator's, parents and all adults to help foster in this compassionate revolution. We must restructure our thinking so that our most vulnerable world citizens, our children, are always the first consideration. If we honor the child, we must also honor the mother and the father. It means engaging in nonviolence in our parenting styles, but also in the world and it's conflicts. Nothing could be more detrimental than living in a conflict zone. Being dedicated to the child is without borders. The children of Sudan, Palestine, Burma, India, China, Sri Lanka, etc., all need to be honoured and allowed to grow in a healthy and loving environment.

There are three actions highlighted by the Centre. One is for the environment, changing to chlorine-free paper. Anything good for the planet is good for the child. The second action item is nonviolence - including an end to corporal punishment in our world. And finally a call for a commercial free childhood. Our children are not for sale! Commercialism breaks family bonds, causing conflict between children and parents.

These actions are a beginning point only. I'd like to add a few child honouring practices to the list;

disarmament - a world with a nuclear arsenal is not child centered or life centered. Vigil, write letters, and stay informed and involved in the effort to eradicate this evil from our world.
An end to war.
Outreach to areas where guns are common in the home to help foster a desire to disarm. Too many children are harmed by home firearms. It's an unnecessary danger.
Less violence in the media (including video games) and more family centered programming.
Connecting children of the global North to counterparts in the South so that they learn from each other, and help each other. Think without borders.

If you think of other actions to move our world to a better place for children, please add them to the comment section.

Our children and families are the most precious resources on the planet. Keep watching, weeding, feeding the hearts and minds of the children and soon the world will be at peace.

Raffi had a nice chat with the Dalai Lama on Child Honouring.

Mysogyny and Superstition

2010-01-22T14:34:00.000-08:00

Hinoeuma, the fire horse, of the Chinese zodiac is a powerful and beautiful image. Every 60 years there is born a new herd of fire horse children. The last two herds were born in 1906 and 1966 (my herd). In most of the world this is meaningless except to make small talk at parties. But in Japan it's taken much more seriously, so much so that the birth rate for 1966 dropped by 26%. Even in countries where attempts to reduce birth rates are successful, they're not this successful.

In Japan the fire horse woman is considered headstrong and deadly to men. The herd of 1906 suffered extreme poverty, homelessness and isolation associated with not being able to marry and raise families. This discrimination made national news when on New Year Day 1928 two hinoeuma women, lamenting their misfortune, threw themselves from the Tokyo Pier. Ironically, there has been a positive side for my 1966 herd. As it turns out both men and women born this year in Japan have married much later in life, if at all, instead choosing education over tradition.

Misogyny is often born from superstition, not just in this case, but the world over. Religious texts including the Bible have placed women in an inferior position to men, making the abuse of women easier to justify. A woman suspected of being a witch would be examined publicly for any marks of the devil which included birth marks and supernumerary nipples (used to suckle demon children). For this, women were publicly tortured and slowly but ultimately killed. The basis of the mass slaughter of women during the witch craze came directly from the church leadership.

But that was a long time ago right? Don't women have it much better today? Well, at least those of us fortunate enough to be born in the right place, enjoying the rights won for us by the hard work and sacrifice of our mothers and their mothers. In Africa where the superstition has spread that a man can rid himself of AIDS by sleeping with a virgin, the women are not faring so well. In cultures where a woman must bleed on her wedding night, otherwise be stoned to death, they are not faring well. Now that rape is officially recognized as a weapon of war, women are not faring well. Wife burning, female infanticide, genital mutilation, acid disfigurations, brutal rapes, forced sexual slavery, prostitution, etc, etc. Violence against women has not gone away, in fact it's worse than ever. The types of torutre used on women equal and surpass the worst the Inquisotors could have imagined. For those of us fortunate enough to live in a place and time where we can shout, fight and write, we must do so for our sisters. In honor of our Mothers, Grandmothers and all the gentle spririts burned on the pyre as witches or hung or crushed by stone, we must take up this cause. Engage your inner fire horse and demand change.

Join Ta'anit Tzedek - Jewish Fast For Gaza

2010-01-21T05:25:00.000-08:00

Today I observe a monthly fast, alongside over a thousand others, both Jewish and non-Jewish people of conscience. We desire an end to the blockade of Gaza. It's been over a year since the siege and since then, so little humanitarian aid and/or re-building supplies have reached these people. Peace talks must happen between all parties involved, including Hamas. Today, I will remain aware of the suffering of both Jew and Palestinian. I will pray that these brothers and sisters will come to embrace a nonviolent approach to solving this, ensuring the safety and human rights are respected for all.

Other info on the monthly fast:

Background:

Do not stand idly by when your neighbor’s blood is being spilled (Leviticus 19:16).

As Jews and people of conscience, we can no longer stand idly by Israel’s collective punishment of the Palestinian people in Gaza.
Since Hamas’ electoral victory in January 2006, Israel has subjected the Gaza Strip to an increasingly intolerable blockade that restricts Gaza's ability to import food, fuel and other essential materials, and to export finished products. As a result, the Gazan economy has completely collapsed. Most of Gaza's industrial plants have been forced to close, further contributing to already high levels of unemployment and poverty and rising levels of childhood malnutrition.

On three things the world stands: on justice, on truth, and on peace (Mishnah Avot 1:18).

From this we learn that justice, truth and peace are interdependent and irrevocably intertwined. Thus we cannot separate our call for justice in Gaza from the painful truth of this conflict and the ongoing tragedy of war in this tortured region. We condemn Hamas’ deliberate targeting of Israeli civilians. Out of the same ethical commitments we also condemn the use of much greater violence by the Israeli government, causing many more deaths of Palestinian civilians. Since the end of Israel's recent military campaign, the severe humanitarian crisis in Gaza has grown all the more dire.

The Fast:

Is this not the fast that I have chosen: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, and that you break every yoke?” (Isaiah 58:6)

In Jewish tradition a communal fast is held in times of crisis both as an expression of mourning and a call to repentance. In this spirit, Ta’anit Tzedek – Jewish Fast for Gaza is a collective act of conscience initiated by an ad hoc group of rabbis, Jews, people of faith, and all concerned with the ongoing crisis in Gaza.
This water-only fast will take place on the third Thursday of the month, beginning on July 16, 2009, from sunrise to sunset. In addition to signing on to the statement above, participants are asked to donate the money they save on food to the Milk for Preschoolers Campaign of the American Near Eastern Refugee Aid (ANERA). This important relief campaign combats malnutrition among Gazan preschool children through daily provisions of fortified milk and high energy biscuits.
Those who are unable to fast for the entire day are encouraged to engage in a partial fast or to find their own meaningful ways to observe the day. Participants may also initiate public events in different communities that will further the goals of the fast.

Forgiveness

2010-01-20T06:18:00.000-08:00

When we attempt to learn a new behavior, something we have never tried or seen others model, we can feel a bit disoriented or off-balance. This state is termed "cognitive dissonance". Although it feels uncomfortable, it provides an opportunity to learn a new response, to put in place a new neural pathway in your brain. For example, if you have always put your right leg into your pants first you have created a neural highway by repetition so that the moment you grab your pants the next action is already starting, almost without your volition. It's habit. But you can try an experiment. You can try putting in the left leg first. As you do this new behavior you begin to construct a new pathway and with repetition that pathway grows in bandwidth, becoming the faster more automatic response. Our brains are amazingly plastic in this way, and that gives us hope for change not in simple tasks but in the more serious task of dealing with crisis, anger, and stress. Do we respond violently, or learn new nonviolent responses to old impulses?

On January 21, 1995 Tariq Khamisa, a 20 year old San Diego State University student, was delivering pizzas to a false address. Waiting in ambush was Tony Hicks, a 14 year old fresh recruit to the gang life. Tony's life had not been an easy one up to this point. His mother was only 15. Each attempt to make contact with his father found him beaten by this man whose genetics he shared. Tony's guardian, his grandfather, a Vietnam vet, Ples Felix, tried to give Tony the help he needed in coping with his anger by getting him counseling. Ples worried over his associations with local "homies". On the 20th Tony left a note for his Grandfather, saying that he had to run away from home. The next night, Tony killed Tariq as instructed by an older gang member. Tony had been drinking and smoking pot and now wanted food. The violent pathways etched into his brain made this conclusion the only way. When Tariq's father, Azim Khamisa, got the request to come identify his sons body an enormous mental gap or moment of cognitive dissonance, occurred, as it would for any parent. Azim describes it as atom bombs exploding in his heart. For me, if it were my daughter, I'm sure my first impulse would be to find the one responsible for my pain and make sure that person suffers too. We've seen the plot hundreds of times played out by Hollywood. Samuel L Jackson's character in A Time to Kill, hides in the courthouse and murders the boy that brutally raped his 10 year old daughter. He is the protagonist. He gets sympathy from us, the audience. We identify with his response because it is the response we've learned from our society. It's revenge, retaliation and it's killing too many people. But Azim Khamisa did not stalk and kill Tony Hicks or Ples Felix. He jumped the mental ruts a socialized human response and instead recognized that there were "victims at both ends of the gun". It is most likely that Azim's strong spiritual tradition gave him the inner strength and wisdom to see the tragedy clearly. He is Sufi Muslim. As he puts it, "one of my life goals has been to emulate a lifestyle that draws on the spiritual wisdom of the East, the material wisdom of the West, and the soul-wisdom of Africa." Did Azim entertain thoughts of violence and revenge? I'm certain he did, but fortunately these were not the thoughts that were allowed to manifest into action.

So in that moment, when the bombs are shattering your heart, what can you do? What did Azim Khamisa do? Azim honored the Spirit of Life by finding his way to forgiveness, not only in words but in action. Azim reached out to Tony's grandfather Ples, and together they formed the Tariq Khamisa Foundation (http://tkf.org). Through the foundation they have reached out to youth populations that are in gang areas, where violence could easily become their primary method of conflict resolution. They go to the schools with their programs to guide children in alternatives to the violence that is their daily reality, in hopes of re-routing the neural pathways to non-violent solutions. TKF has reached out to over 8 million students in 12,000 schools via their documentary. TKF offers several programs to empower students to make non-violent choices. And what about Tony? Tony was the first juvenile to be tried as an adult. He received a sentence of 25 years to life. He won't be eligible for parole until he is 46 years old. Think of it for a moment. In just an instant, a muzzle flash, Tony will lose all the experiences we take for granted between the ages of 14 and 46. First love, gone. Marriage and children, likely gone. But he has his grandfather and he also has the father of the boy he murdered. When he does get out, he can begin again. He will take his place in TKF, working so that other young boys do not have to grow up in prison like he has. At age 16 Tony became a ward of New Folsom, California State Prison. He has since been moved, four times in five years. He now resides in Pelican Bay State Prison. Prison is not an easy life. If you think the streets of San Diego or Oakland are violent, then you can just imagine what it must be like to put all that anger and hatred into one building. Prison guards are often war veterans who themselves are struggling with PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) and trying to make sense of the evil they were forced to do to innocent people abroad. Here their abusive training is appreciated. Our prison systems are but training grounds, galvanizing our most violent tendencies. But the Spirit of Life still lives in each of these people, both the guards, the murderers, the rapists, the child molesters, yes, even them. Let's try a new response. Let's get out of a false comfort zone and begin the restorative process of forgiveness.

Unconditional Loving Kindness

2010-01-19T05:58:00.000-08:00

From the Metta Sutta
May all beings be happy.
May they be joyous and live in safety.
All living beings, whether weak or strong, in high or middle or low realms of existence, small or great, visible or invisible, near or far, born or to be born, may all beings be happy.
Let no one deceive another, nor despise any being in any state; Let none by anger or hatred wish harm to another.
Even as a mother at the risk of her life watches over and protects her only child, so with a boundless mind should one cherish all living things, suffusing love over the entire world, above, below and all around without limit; so let one cultivate an infinite good will toward the whole world.

In the Pali cannon of Buddha's teachings we find the Metta Sutta. Metta is translated as loving kindness. It is differentiated from compassion in that it describes a benevolence toward all beings that is fee from selfish attachment whereas compassion is an active sympathy where one is willing to accept the suffering for another. The practice of metta meditation is a powerful tool in overcoming anger.

Metta practice does not immediately begin with all beings everywhere. We must always begin with ourselves. When I first began working with metta I was startled by how much anger I had directed at myself. As the saying goes, if we cannot love ourselves, we cannot really love others. Practicing metta towards ourselves is the foundation for building our work for peace in the world. To begin, sit comfortably, in a quiet space and recite to yourself, "May I live in safety. May I be happy. May I be healthy. May I live with ease." This practice is deceptively simple but will often bring to surface hidden feelings of inner directed anger, even self-loathing. I spent many weeks at this stage, finding tears with each recitation and then sitting with whatever feeling arose, evaluating it's source and having compassion for my own suffering. When I was able to sit with these phrases, engaging myself deeply with each phrase without evoking a strong response, it was time to move to the next stage.

Once we've cultivated loving kindness for ourselves, we then extend the phrases to someone we deeply care for, a close friend, a child, a family member, a partner, etc. Visualize this person sitting in front of you. Look at them and recite, "May you live in safety. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you live in ease." For most this step comes more readily, although surprises can arise. You might unravel resentments that you didn't even realize were there. You might discover conditions on your love for this person. These conditions and resentments show us our attachments. We may discover that our love is based on the behavior of the other, that we desire some hidden control mechanisms. We might even begin to see our own passive aggressive behaviors reflected back to us. Metta practice will help loosen these attachments.

For the third stage, think of someone how is going through a difficult time.

"May you live in safety. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you live in ease."

In the fourth iteration we think of someone we are neutral about. For instance, a bank teller, a store clerk, or the cashier at the check-out counter of the local store are all likely candidates. Place them in the visualized seat in front of you and begin.

"May you live in safety. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you live in ease."

At this point, extend the metta to all beings everywhere.

"May all beings everywhere live in safety, be happy, be healthy, live with ease."

I've used metta practice a lot in the last decade as our country has engaged in the destruction of so many innocents in the Middle East. My anger at the American leaders was robbing me of my effectiveness in my political actions. In principled nonviolence it is through our concern for the morale well-being of our opponent that we place ourselves in harms way just to highlight the brutality of a system that our opponent happens to be part of or even the leader of. It is to love the sinner while hating the sin. I'll admit that doing metta practice for Dick Cheney is still a challenge. I clearly still cling to certain attachments. Metta is not forgiveness and I will continue to seek culpability in his actions but hopefully my reasons are not ones of retribution and revenge. The most loving thing we can do for someone is to stop them from hurting others. In a world where karma is the most basic rule, where every greedy, self-centered, evil action generates more negative reactions in both the originator and in the hearts of those affected, it is our morale imperative to take action from a place of loving kindness so that all beings everywhere can indeed live in safety, be happy, be healthy and live at ease.

Dr. King - A True Radical

2010-01-18T11:30:00.000-08:00

Nonviolence means avoiding not only external physical violence but also internal violence of spirit. You not only refuse to shoot a man, but you refuse to hate him.
Martin Luther King, Jr.

The word "radical" means root. Dr. King was not satisfied with a struggle just to bring legislation about to change the status of African Americans, but his dream went much deeper, to the root of the problem, our hearts. He hoped to transform hate to love. In his memory, let's dedicate ourselves to this radical vision, first eliminating the violence within our own hearts, and then working to eradicate it in our world.

Be radical - be nonviolent.

be fearless, be love, be free

2010-01-16T08:44:00.000-08:00

I am faith, faith I am.
I am hope, hope I am.
I am love, love I am.
I am fearless, free I am.

I cannot recall where I found these words, but they resonated well for me and are posted on a note on my desktop as a daily reminder.

Being fearless means I take risks by putting myself up front, telling my stories, showing my white underbelly and having hope and faith in the compassion of others. It also sometimes means listening, even when the stories are painful to hear, watching when the scene breaks my heart and absorbing the suffering so that it may be transformed.

What does being fearless mean to you?

Anger

2010-01-15T06:16:00.000-08:00

I have learnt through bitter experience the one supreme lesson to conserve my anger, and as heat conserved is transmuted into energy, even so our anger controlled can be transmuted into a power which can move the world. (YI, 15-9-1920, p6)

There is a heat
white hot and burning
that surges
too hot to hold
it leaves me
eager to burn
to scorch
begins with a pinprick
at the base of my spine
vigilance is needed
to save
to change
mutate
turn it from white
to rosy hues
from hate
to love

A horn honks behind me on the Ross Island bridge. It keeps blaring out its indictment of the driver at the front of our long procession to enter the bridge that takes us to SE Portland. I begin to feel a tingle deep within me. It rises so quickly - maybe only a few nanoseconds later my own voice begins to mutter some unpleasant words for the person whose hand continues to pound on the car horn. A scene flashes in my head of me getting out of the car and going back to tell him what I thought of his rudeness. I even visualize his reaction if I carried a gun in my hand as I walk back to his vehicle. Awareness of these fleeting violent thoughts give me pause and I call my mantra to my mind, make it hold the OM longer than usual. I repeat it until I release my hold on these negative images and stories that I've created about the man behind me. I stop thinking of his action as an affront to my sense of what is right behavior in this situation. What if he really has an emergency? Maybe his wife needs him at home because labor pains have started? Maybe his boss was particularly hard on him today and he's carrying that stress home with him? Or maybe he really is just an ass? But I recognize that his action need not create and equally negative reaction in me. Whatever his reality, one thing I realized with certainty, he was suffering. He was not at peace with himself, or with us or likely with the rest of the world which he perceived as working entirely against him, keeping him from the bridge and life. Once I could see him as one suffering my compassion arose. My anger transformed into something else, something better for the world.

Being in the car bought me extra time for awareness. It provided a buffer zone, allowing the poison of anger time to transform before striking its intended target. As a parent my opportunities to practice in transforming my anger have multiplied. I recall the harrowing thoughts that flashed in my mind when my newborn infant would cry incessantly from the pains of colic. With so little sleep and support from others, I began to understand why so many infants become victims of their primary care givers, their mothers. I also began to realize the tragedy of isolation. My Latina friends live in multi-generational homes where their mother and often even grandmother are there to support them at these times. As I sat with my crying infant my mind reflected on how much we've lost, how much women have lost, when the concept of the nuclear family was formed. A woman today is expected to shoulder a career while still meeting the needs of her child or children and don't forget the husband or partner, they also have needs and they're to do this without the help of other women. It is when we are so focused and driven that we are easily irritated when someone else's need steps in and demands our attention, whether a honking horn or crying child.

Learning to deal with anger is another important skill for the nonviolent warrior. We must learn to see a persons action without immediately making a judgment about the action. At this moment there is a train horn calling out a warning as it nears the intersections where cars might be present. I feel no attachment of resentment of that sound, or the actions of the train engineer in blowing it. Someone else in the neighborhood, still trying to sleep at 6am, might be having a more negative reaction because they tell themselves that the engineer is doing it just to annoy or waken them. Certainly when a child cries it's because the child has no other language yet with which to get it's needs met, not because the child wants to interrupt your important thought or work that you're doing. My experience is that when my anger arises it's a big red flag that I've become too self-centered on my own needs. I use it as a warning sign to step back and reevaluate my priorities. Is the work I'm doing at that moment so important that I can't take time to care for my child's need? Rarely is the answer yes.

Practicing with aversion is a Buddhist meditation practice. It means to hold your meditation regardless of the mosquito biting you, the heat prickling your skin, or the noise out in the street. It's about being in the world, taking each moment as it arises, then letting it pass without attaching labels or spinning out stories about it. It is a practice that we should all take into our daily waking lives.

Good Friends

2010-01-14T05:45:00.000-08:00

A reformer cannot afford to have close intimacy with him whom he seeks to reform. True friendship is an identity of souls rarely to be found in this world. Only between like natures can friendship be altogether worthy and enduring. Friends react on one another. Hence in friendship there is very little scope for reform. I am of opinion that all exclusive intimacies are to be avoided; for man takes in vice far more readily than virtue. And he who would be friends with God must remain alone, or make the whole world his friend. I may be wrong, but my effort to cultivate an intimate friendship proved a failure. (Gandhi, AMG, 31-32)

The great Duke Ellington had just such a friend in Billy Strayhorn. Neither man required reform and both nursed near the breast of Jazz's muse. Watching them at the piano together composing it becomes clear that they each felt moved by the same phrase or melody. They could complete each others sentences. Ellington described him, "my right arm, my left arm, all the eyes in the back of my head, my brain waves in his head, and his in mine". Duke was a figure larger than life, a womanizer and a showman. Billy was an openly gay man in a time when homophobia ruled the minds of the masses. The music shared transcended their differences and together they changed the nature of jazz.

Most of us will never meet our Billy. Our thoughts feel strangled in the folds of our gray matter, unable to unleash their unique and authentic voice into the world. We seek that compliment to ourselves; someone that inspires that voice, words, and action simply because they also feel the internal struggle and seek the same expression for truth. We long for another heart that can share an intimate silence and still hear the songs of our soul. My life has been a long march of acquaintances, each one loved by me, but none that truly resonated with my deepest reality. So I've often fallen back to this quote by Gandhi to assuage my own feelings of failure in the realm of personal relationship. It's at these times I take a step back and look at all the friendships I have and how each one has brought some unique gift into my life, enriching my experience of this world. A relationship such as that shared by Ellington and Strayhorn is such a rarity, but friendships are a necessity.

Jazz is a strange blend of sounds both harmonic and dissonant, built on the improvisation of many moods and interpretations. It took more that just Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn to bring the music to life. That's where a rich palette of friends will add color to our lives, helping us to shine ever more brilliantly than we ever could on our own.

Hug Yourself

2010-01-13T06:23:00.000-08:00

First mend yourself,
then mend others.

~ Jewish Proverb

Each flight begins with a safety demonstration. We are instructed to place the oxygen mask first over our own face before attending to anyone else. This message is important in dealing with any life crisis. It's wise advice. If we cannot breathe, we are less likely to help others catch their breath.

I think of the Red Cross Emergency workers, Mercy Corps and countless others in flight now to Haiti to care for the victims of earthquake. A dear departed friend of mine used to work with Red Cross Emergency Response. If he were still living, I have no doubt he would be on a plane right now. He was an exception to their three week maximum exposure rule. He had the ability to spend months pulling bodies from the rubble without himself collapsing from the overwhelming level of human suffering and grief that he witnessed. He could do this because he understood self-care.

You don't have to be a First Responder or Emergency worker to benefit from self-care. This is a cornerstone skill for anyone taking the practice of nonviolence out into our violent world or to those managing the daily stresses of life. Like most skills they must be cultivated and practiced to be most effective in a crisis. Below is a list of ten self-care techniques.

TO RELAX. Throughout the day, take "mini-breaks". Sit down and get comfortable. Slowly take in a deep breath; hold it; and then exhale very slowly. At the same time, let your shoulder muscles droop, smile, and say something positive like, "I am r-e-l-a-x-e-d." Be sure to get sufficient rest at night.

PRACTICE ACCEPTANCE. Many people get distressed over things they won't let themselves accept. Often, these are things that can't be changed, for example someone else's feelings or beliefs. If something unjust bothers you, that is different. If you act in a responsible way, the chances are you will manage that stress effectively.

TALK RATIONALLY TO YOURSELF. Ask yourself what real impact the stressful situation will have on you in a day or in a week, and see if you can let the negative thoughts go. Think through whether the situation is your problem or the other person's. If it is yours, approach it calmly and firmly. If it is the other person's, there is not much you can do about it. Rather than condemning yourself with hindsight thinking like, "I should have...," think about what you can learn from the error and plan for the future. Watch out for perfectionism -- set realistic and attainable goals. Remember: everyone makes errors. Be careful of procrastination -- practice breaking tasks into smaller units to make it manageable, and practice prioritizing to get things done.

GET ORGANIZED. Develop a realistic schedule of daily activities that includes time for work, sleep, relationships, and recreation. Use a daily "thing to do " list. Improve your physical surroundings by cleaning your house and straightening up your office. Use your time and energy efficiently.

EXERCISE. Physical activity has always provided relief from stress. In the past, daily work was largely physical. Now that physical exertion is no longer a requirement for earning a living, we don't get rid of stress so easily. It accumulates very quickly. We need to develop a regular exercise program to reduce the effects of stress before it becomes distress. Try aerobics, walking, jogging, dancing, or swimming.

REDUCE TIME URGENCY. If you frequently check your watch or worry about what you do with your time, learn to take things a bit slower. Allow plenty of time to get things done. Plan your schedule ahead of time. Recognize that you can only do so much in a given period. Practice the notion of "pace, not race".

DISARM YOURSELF. Every situation in life does not require you to be competitive. Adjust your approach to an event according to its demands. You don't have to raise your voice in a simple discussion. Playing tennis with a friend does not have to be an Olympic trial. Leave behind you your "weapons" of shouting, having the last word, putting someone else down, and blaming.

QUIET TIME. Balance your family, social, and work demands with special private times. Hobbies are good antidotes for daily pressures. Unwind by taking a quiet stroll, soaking in a hot bath, watching a sunset, or listening to calming music.

WATCH YOUR HABITS. Eat sensibly -- a balanced diet will provide all the necessary energy you will need during the day. Avoid nonprescription drugs and avoid alcohol use -- you need to be mentally and physically alert to deal with stress. Be mindful of the effects of excessive caffeine and sugar on nervousness. Put out the cigarettes -- they restrict blood circulation and affect the stress response.

TALK TO FRIENDS. Friends can be good medicine. Daily doses of conversation, regular social engagements, and occasional sharing of deep feelings and thoughts can reduce stress quite nicely.

In the list of ten it's good to note that most are related to the stories we're telling ourselves in our own heads. For this reason I'd add that a meditation practice can be very helpful in a daily self-care regimen.

Now, give yourself a big hug, take a deep breath and enjoy your day. Peace.

Source of ten self-care techniques. (http://www.reachoutmichigan.org/learn/stresmgt.html)
This information was prepared by Kent T. Yamauchi, Ph.D., reproduced from Innovations in Clinical Practice: A Source Book, Volume 5, P.A. Keller & L. G. Ritt (Eds.). Copyright 1986, Professional Resource Exchange, Inc., PO Box 15560, Sarasota, FL 34277-1560.

Sadness

2010-01-12T05:40:00.000-08:00

A familiar friend sits at my table
drinking in tears like morning's first coffee
long dark braids holding the knotted memories of life
black eyes hold me
breathe
then let me go

In memory of my cousin

I'm sorry life brought so much sadness

May you rest in peace

reunited, at last, to the arms of you mother

An Ojibway Prayer

2010-01-11T12:02:00.000-08:00

Grandfather,

Look at our brokenness.

We know that in all creation

Only the human family

Has strayed from the Sacred Way.

We know that we are the ones

Who are divided,

And we are the ones

Who must come back together

To walk the Sacred Way.

Grandfather,

Sacred One,

Teach us love, compassion, and honor

That we may heal the earth

And heal each other.

As an adolescent I spent many hours in the solitude of the forest, loathing my species. We were in the cold war days. Reagan was ratcheting up the anti-communist speak and planning to arm even the space around the earth to protect America. There were days that I prayed these insane world leaders would just do it, end human life on the earth so that this Great Mother could begin to heal herself from our diseased way and with any luck no new self-destructive and planet-destructive species would evolve to replace us. We narrowly escaped Armageddon as the Soviet Union crumbled (and not from the US influence, but from a nonviolent movement within). I decided that if we weren't all to perish just yet I should start working for the health of the planet and her "good children", the animals. I followed and supported the work of Greenpeace and PETA, beginning to hone my public speaking skills with their messages. But as I matured I began to realize that we are not separate from the system. If we hope to heal the earth we must first heal the human family. Thus began my journey into human rights.

I had the privilege of hearing Julia Butterfly Hill speak at a conference a couple years back. For those who don't know Julia, she lived in a 1500 yr old California Redwood tree, affectionately named Luna, for 738 days, from December 10th 1997 to December 18th 1999. She recalls looking out on the forest surrounding Luna watching the clear cutting already in process by the Pacific Lumber Company and coming to the realization that until humans quit clear cutting each other no forest on the planet would ever be safe. I've heard this concept echoed by other teachers, that what is internal conflict for the human is magnified and made manifest in the larger world. In other words, what is most ugly and destructive in our world has come from us. This is the premise of deep ecology, deep because it never ceases to question why and how we got here and then address how do we best begin to repair the damage to both ourselves and the environment. In other words, I have come to view the work of peace, social justice and human rights as an extension of the environmental movement, not apart from it. I believe this holistic approach to the world's dilemma is the only way we will find a sustainable cure.

Examples of this thinking are happening all over the globe and must continue to catch on, especially in the Western culture that is primarily responsible for the damaged world we live in. This past month we saw the rescue of the last dancing bear in India, but not at the expense of the Kalandar community dependent upon the bears for survival. Activists have worked diligently to help the families find sustainable solutions to support themselves. Patrick Satyanarayan gave a brief invited TED talk on the end of this brutal practice. Green energy, green buildings, buying local, growing organic, returning to natural farming practices in tune with the animals and environment are all encouraging signs that many on the globe are understanding this interdependent web of life of which we are part. The ones dragging their feet are the governments, military and corporations who will no longer have a place in this new integrated vision, and they are fighting the propaganda war of their lives to keep us stuck in our narrow destructive ways.

How do we win over these hold-outs, the most wealthy and elite of our world? Clearly this cannot be achieved by violence. We must in the end walk side by side with them as they are our brothers and sisters too. It is through our compassion and fierce hold on truth that we will win, and so will they. We must educate them, help them find a new way of living just as was done for the Kalandar community of India. Those who have accumulated immense material wealth are among the most broken of the human family. They are the impoverished souls that walk this planet with an insatiable appetite. It is our job to help them. We must remind them that they too are part of this web, and as such dependent upon us and the planet. The more we learn to live compassionately, altering our living and purchasing habits, the clearer the message we'll be.

Let's get off of our knees and walk the Sacred Way as one large family; earth, animal and humankind.

A Time for Beauty

2010-01-10T14:00:00.000-08:00

Blessed are they
who see beautiful things in humble places
where other people
see nothing.

~ Camille Pissarro

When we choose to live a life engaged in the work of social justice and peace we expose ourselves daily to the deepest, darkest sorrows of humanity. We also spend hours planning, organizing and building community, only to find that our heartfelt effort has fallen short of our expectations. Burnout is often the result. In the latter case we must constantly remind ourselves that our only duty is to do what we feel called to do and not hold tightly to expectations. If our effort reaches only one other person, it was a worthwhile effort. We can never truly know how our actions will affect change. But if we choose to do nothing, we know without doubt that nothing is exactly what will happen. But how, in the first case, can we take in with our senses so much suffering without ourselves sinking into despair by the sheer magnitude of the pain? We must take time for beauty.

We don't need to run to the museum or opera each week to take in the beauty of life. Beauty can be found in the most humble of settings. Dorothy Day, caring and feeding the homeless in the Bowery during the Depression years, always noticed any green surviving the industrial setting, or a certain cathedral slant of light reaching down between tall buildings. As time permitted she'd retire to her room to listen to opera on a small transistor radio. Likewise, when I feel the oppressive choking heartache of the world threatening my own stability, I either take a walk or bike ride by the river or I listen to Andrea Bocelli or I simply stop, breathe and find something, even if it's from my memory, that brings a smile. As Thicht Nhat Hanh so wisely put, "Because of your smile, you make life more beautiful.” A smile is a simple act and yet it can change not only your own level of joy, but also that of those around you. We must always make an effort to smile. I've discovered that it is truly contagious. Such a simple yet meaningful gift.

My daughter's Grandmother once commented to me after spending time with other children that Alexa smiles so much more than the others. Then I saw a light of recognition as she continued, "but you smile all the time too. She must get that from you." But this has not always been the case in my life. I remember a time when I didn't smile. Recovering from early childhood traumas and facing issues of sexual identity without any support pulled me under the current to an unreachable place. Life became too overwhelming and I retreated from any joy or smile. My husband even noted that it had been so long since he'd seen me smile. This depression ultimately led to a nervous breakdown, divorce and a new start. As I began my new journey on stronger legs, joy began to trickle into my life. One morning as I sat watching a couple chickadees hop scotching around the yard I felt a dull pain in my cheeks. I rubbed my face to discover that both my cheeks were quite tender to the touch. It took a few moments for the cause to reveal itself. I'd been smiling, a lot. And I haven't stopped since. As long as I keep smiling my heart continues to grow larger, making even more space for the sorrows of this world. If you find that that world has robbed you of your smile, your joy, and you feel near the edge of burnout, please take time to seek out beauty. Or you can visit me and I'll gladly share my smile with you.

Keep smiling for peace : )

Peace is a Mother

2010-01-09T17:31:00.000-08:00

At our recent Adventure in Nonviolence we read the following poem in unison:

Peace Is A Woman And A Mother

By Ada Ahroni

How do you know peace is a woman?

I know, for I met her yesterday

on my winding way to the Wold's fare.

She had such a sorrowful face

just like a golden flower faded

before her prime.

I asked her why she was so sad?

She told me her baby was killed in Auschwitz,

her daughter in Hiroshima, and her sons in Vietnam,

Ireland, Israel, Palestine, Lebanon, Rwanda,

Bosnia, Kosovo and Chechnya...

All the rest of her children, she said,

are on the nuclear black list of the dead,

all the rest, unless the whole world understands -

that peace is a woman.

A thousand candles then lit

in her starry eyes, and I saw cherubim

bearing a moonlit message:

Peace is indeed a pregnant woman -

Peace is a mother

As we read, the memories of birthing my own daughter filled my heart and threatened to bring tears to my eyes. At age 37 I was quite surprised to find myself with child, a very pleasant but unexpected surprise. I located midwives to help me through the prenatal, delivery and postpartum experience. I was determined to have a natural home birth, using the water tub for pain management. Some have called me a stubborn woman, while those more generous have labeled me tenacious. This quality has served me well in many circumstances and I've only questioned it once, childbirth was the moment. After 14 hours of laboring my baby girl emerged from the water, but there was a problem, she wasn't breathing. For the briefest moment I held her, calling to her by her name, "Alexa Rose, please breathe, please breathe for Mommy". I could hear the panic rising in my shaky voice. Still connected by the umbilical cord the midwives and their assistant hurried us to the bed and the midwives went to work on little Alexa. With each tick of the second hand a new fuse lit in my heart, threatening to demolish all that I was if that beautiful light had gone out. But at last a cry emerged and they brought her to my arms and we, mother and child, mixed our tears together as I choked out a song to her, for the first time face to face.

I've been reading "Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide" by Nicholas D. Kristoff and Sheryl WuDunn. I realize just how fortunate I was to be assisted by three knowledgeable women, two with many home births to their credit. If a problem had arisen there was a modern hospital only 20 minutes away. But for millions of women this is not so. They birth alone, and usually at such young ages as 14 and 15, their bodies not yet able to handle the stress of childbirth, resulting in obstruction. They agonize for days, the baby dies and they often do as well. If not they are left unable to walk and with fistulas. The fistula and resulting infections create a smell offensive to their family and community so that they are placed in a hut at the edge of the village as food for hyenas. In the Sub-Saharan a woman has a 1 in 7 chance of dying in childbirth at some point in her life. These deaths are preventable as are the early pregnancies. Some have called fistulas the new leprosy. It's victims and poor, rural females. If not from pregnancy, the fistula is from violent rape, another common occurrence for women in the developing world. There are solutions. You can support the growing number of hospitals that treat fistulas. Giving girls educational opportunities is another solution which has multiple benefits, including postponement of child-bearing. Education also enriches the entire community when she is able to join the labor pool. We are also discovering that educating girls may even reduce terrorism and extremism. The empowerment of women is the best hope for ending poverty. and bringing true peace

To learn more visit, http://www.halftheskymovement.org/

Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea, provides more information at http://www.girleffect.org/

I now enjoy the company of a beautiful five year old whose sapphire eyes sparkle with intelligence and life. I know the pain of bringing a child into this world. I can only imagine the absolute destruction of a mother's soul in losing one. There is no natural resource on this planet as precious as a child's life. Not even our sense of security is worth killing and starving children in other countries. It's time for mothers to stand up and say NO to war and YES to building this global community. Let's help our sisters so that they can experience those precious moments of holding their healthy newborn and singing it softly, and lovingly into a peaceful world.

Peace is a mother.

The Cost of Peace

2010-01-08T18:23:00.000-08:00

"There is no peace because the making of peace is at least as costly as the making of war–at least as exigent, at least as disruptive, at least as liable to bring disgrace and prison and death in its wake." Daniel Berrigan (from a longer blog found at, http://disarmnowplowshares.wordpress.com/2010/01/07/dberrigan/)

I sit here barely awake after last night's Adventure in Nonviolence reading Berrigan's essay, wondering; am I doing enough, can I do more, what am I willing to risk for the cause of peace? Being a single parent means that my young daughter is impacted by my answers to these questions. Yet I insist on being a model of what I believe is most important in this life, also for her sake. I've considered the impacts of war tax resistance, incarceration, self selected poverty but I weigh carefully my desired goal against my action.  All of these are valid actions that I support. But my goal is to build a community, a community that nurtures a growing culture of peace.  As I explore ideas, I invite others on the journey. Education of ourselves and each other is key, not only theoretical learning, but experiential learning and practice of the methods of nonviolence. How do we change ourselves and our world? How do we open the hearts and minds of everyday Americans to the idea that peace is possible? We do this through outreach. We must share our ideas and our struggles. Throughout our short history Americans have shown themselves to be committed to the ideas of peace, democracy and justice, yet today most people that I talk to in my day to day life just glaze over and stare blankly back when these words are uttered. That's my goal, to see a light shine in the eyes of everyday Americans when the words peace and justice are mentioned. To see immediately that we are all engaged in the struggle for a better world, not just the few peacemakers against the Goliaths of the corporate war machine.

It's easy to turn away from the difficult question of war but it's critical that we stop ignoring the monster that we've let loose in the world. Apart from the moral and philosophical pondering, we are confronted by the economic reality that our entire industrial system spins on the government dollar. People scream that they don't want the government involved in the private sector but the reality is that the government is already intertwined in every aspect of our world, both public and private. The big $$ behind research and development is almost always signed by DoD or DoE, and these two are conjoined twins sharing the same twisted root system. The biggest consumer of petroleum products in the world is the American military.  DoE is not going to push too hard for alternative energies while its twin is building war machines that require oil. It's the procurement of crude that oils the mechanisms of war with human blood. Once America decided to maintain a standing military it became necessary to support that bad habit, and the only way to continue to justify and support it is to continue to wreak more havoc in the world.  And since we're also a capitalist country, we might as well make a profit off of all the death and destruction while we're at it.

I can't think of any one large corporation that is not somehow connected with the U.S. Government.  Those with close ties to our leaders get the big contracts to rebuild (ever so slowly) and extract resources (ever so quickly) from the countries we destroy. They use our military to enslave the peoples of the lower half of the world's hemisphere to ensure a future of cheap labor. Our tax money goes to the war machine, the profits and spoils of our ideas go to the war machine and of course our children's bodies and minds are required to feed this machine. This reality, life's hard edged drama where in a flash thousands are killed, or left homeless and starving, is too much for most Americans to digest after a long day at work. Hollywood and the world of professional sports provide the easy way out. Better to watch and worry about the love lives of the rich and famous or go shoot a few hoops with the guys, or watch cars careen around a track, rather than to care about who we're bombing today or about how to change that.

Jane Goodall said, "Only if we understand, can we care. And only if we care will we help."

I may not be able to make the great sacrifices that the Berrigan brothers have to peace, but I will give all my energy, love and care for those who can make such sacrifice. I will continue to read, learn, share and listen to my heart. What is love calling you to do? What price are you willing to pay for peace?

A Shepherd in Wolf's Clothing

2010-01-07T13:58:00.000-08:00

In our culture we often delineate between two types of people, the sheep, or herds of poor ignorant masses that follow the pop culture or buy into whatever the latest fashion is, i.e. the followers. And then there are the leaders and promoters, those who manipulate these masses with media, misleading stories and propaganda that convince the masses that they can have all the riches if only they buy into the storyline provided. No, these are not necessarily the wolves in sheep's clothing, they are mostly sheep too, having themselves bought into a picture of reality so deeply that they have become a part of it. The wolves are the ones that see through this picture of reality, they discern the truth and then use it for ill or good.

Truth can affect us in a couple of ways. We can become hard and cynical, sharpening our tongue with sarcasm towards anyone showing their ignorance. This is the wolf in sheep's clothing. They sit with us at work, but never a kind word is shared. They await our perceived weakness or ignorance and then pounce, pricking us with their words in an attempt to puncture our belief, trust and confidence. It is these acerbic, yet sharp-witted people that find themselves both admired and reviled. Some make it into radio and television, using their talents to help manipulate the masses, to scare them into doing what their handlers want. These wolves benefit in keeping the sheep fearful and unsteady so that when the time comes for them to bark the order, their followers are at the ready to obey, even if it means sending their own children off to the slaughter in a foreign land.

But then there are the others, the one's that discern truth without becoming cynical and hateful. They become the shepherds sometimes donning the appearance of the wolf and sometimes of the sheep. They care for the flock, attempting to give the truth in metered doses to gently persuade changes in attitude and direction. They know the direction the flock should turn, but often have to take drastic steps to get the flocks attention. Examples are Gandhi, MLK Jr, and even Jesus. But there are many many more that don't get the great accolades. They are the peacemakers, activists, teachers, writers and even a few media personalities that attempt to remake this world into one of cooperation and fairness. They see past the minimalized version of what humankind is. While the wolf sees the sheep as animals, unable to control their impulses and easy to toy with, the shephard sees the sheep as potential shephards.

There is a debate on human nature. One side sees us as a slave to our primal impulses, to violence. It gives us an excuse to be bad, to make the wrong choices to harm rather than heal, to neglect rather than nurture. The other side argues that human nature is naturally cooperative and peaceful. But reality seems to indicate that we exist somewhere in the middle of these two extremes with varying levels of free will, depending on early life experiences, and the crowd and environment we find ourselves in. If we surround ourselves with wolves we are almost certainly going to participate in conduct that most people would deem immoral, just ask the soldiers that worked at Abu Ghraib. They were normal American kids that decided to join the wolf pack that we call the military. They did it for noble reasons, not realizing the reality of war, literally having the wool pulled over their eyes. Yet there was one, a shephard in wolf's clothing, a hero, willing to risk all to show the atrocities being committed there. All of us have a choice to make. If we want peace, we must seek peace. The world is only an unfair place because we make it so. Let's shear the wool out of our eyes and begin the journey awake and willing to chose the road towards peace.

Working Together

2010-01-06T06:04:00.000-08:00

We don't have to
agree with each other
in order to explore
together.

~ Margaret Wheatley

The strength of team work is in the diversity of experience and ideas in the team. Working as I do in the semiconductor industry I've seen this dynamic play out over and over again. Admittedly, getting the team through the beginning stages is the hardest part. It takes time for the group to solidify and learn each others work styles. Much of this is cultural. And certainly if it wasn't for the artificial necessity of work, these teams would not make the effort.

But I'd think that peace is worth that effort. There are so many different groups working on peace related issues that rarely cross pollinate. I spent years working on GLBT issues, never meeting others working on Human Rights issues globally. Yet I see now that it was a loss to our work, as the global work has crossed many of the difficult bridges we were struggling over. But what about something even more diverse. What about the sacredness of human life? We all agree that murder is wrong. But then what about state sanctioned murder, war and capital punishment? What about abortion? How can anyone say that life is more precious before birth than after? I see so many possibilities for humans to work together on the sanctity of life issue. But for so many people it seems that life is only special when it is still in the womb, unable to defend itself, and American. In the name of Freedom and spreading Democracy we have annihilated so many innocent children and pregnant women by dropping bombs indiscriminately on civilian areas. Are darker colored humans less than a single American embryo? I should hope not.

I'm reading Nicolas Kristof's, Half the Sky, that shows the brutal violence against women worldwide. We're talking about young girls being sold into sexual slavery, or girls allowed to starve while their brothers eat and get medical care. In China and India Ultrasound techs are not allowed to reveal the gender of the child because females will be aborted. Instead we find that the female child in these countries has a very high likelihood of dying by age 5, a very slow and miserable death at that. The level of misogyny in our world is overwhelming and heartbreaking. I wonder if throwing stones or yelling hateful words at young, poor pregnant women attempting to get into an abortion clinic isn't exactly that, America's misogyny. Women have the unequal burden when bringing a child into this world. It is her life that will be most drastically altered. It seems to me, that if we all banded together to work on improving life for women in the world, that would reduce abortion. And one way to improve the lives of women in this world is to end wars and help provide support in education and health care both to women abroad and at home.

I hope that we can all begin to find common ground to work from. The richness of experience we all bring to these issues can help us foster into existence a truly sustainable solution.

What do you Need?

2010-01-05T06:03:00.000-08:00

We all share the same human needs

for security, autonomy, empathy, love

to celebrate and laugh

for dignity, meaning and integrity

beauty, peace and inspiration

community, acceptance, trust and respect

shelter, rest, food and water

and touch

What do you need?

Listen and you will know

Are you feeling curious? Search for meaning

Are you feeling confused? Search for connection

Are you feeling downhearted? Search for peace

Feeling overwhelmed? Seek out rest

Feeling lonely? Seek out love

For every feeling that swirls in your breast or aches in your brain

there is a need, a longing, and desire

What do you need?

Balance

2010-01-04T12:48:00.000-08:00

I hold this
to be the highest task
for a bond between
two people:
that each protects
the solitude of the other.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

It is a fine balance between connecting with the other and maintaining our own individuality. I'm just beginning to see that strong autonomous and independent drive in my five year old daughter begin to assert itself. She goes to her own room and proceeds to the doll house, entering a world of her own making as she does. I'll hear all sorts of conversations float from that imaginary realm of Alexa's world and I let them float right past me, respecting her space for exploration. I don't apply analysis or creative criticisms, I simply let her ride her own stream of consciousness for as long as she can.

As an adult it's hard to find this space to let the imagination run wild and free. The pressures of work and family often rob us of that freedom unless we intentional block some time for ourselves. It's not unusual for a partner to feel left out or worse rejected when we take time to head off to the study to read, write or just simply think. But this is a need we all have. Many have learned to deny themselves this, especially the super Mom's of today. We work, exercise, cook for our family, get everyone up and going in the morning, and it leaves so little time for our own play time. There's a desire when we return to our homes at night to have quality family time. We succomb to feelings of mother's guilt for wanting our own space, a room of our own as Virginia Woolf noted so many decades ago. Maybe after the dinner is finished, and the conversation dwindles, everyone could do with some pretend time. As a single parent I know that when my daughter heads off to the bedroom or while she plays with her toys in the bath, this is my time to let my imagination run free too. Whether I grab a book, my laptop or just sit and think, I know that what I'm doing makes me whole.

At night, when I curl up with my little girl in bed for story time, I can revel in her improv story lines about the Birthday Buddha, knowing that by allowing her the freedom to explore alone means she'll have the coolest story lines ever. Her imagination astounds and delights me. And when she kisses me goodnight and says "you're the goodest mom ever", it warms my heart and encourages me toward another day (we'll get to grammar another day).

As we anticipate cohabitation in March, this lesson will stay with me. I will be ever vigilant that all members of our new home enjoy a room of their own, a special space guarded by deep respect and love, for great creative work requires no less.

Truth is not Shakespeare

2010-01-03T07:31:00.000-08:00

The truth
needs so little rehearsal.

~ Barbara Kingsolver

Truth may need little rehearsal, yet it does need silence and reflection. Discerning the truth in any matter, but particularly in matters of politics or religion, places us squarely against others whose truth is informed by other influences. When I look at the differences between the progressive and the conservative minds it is clear that what is "truth" becomes much less obvious. The conservative truth is one based on scarcity and fear where competition and the survival of the fittest becomes the metric of success. It is supported by the Luthern concept that God rewards the "good" people with material wealth (i.e. security) in this earthly existence, while He punishes the "bad" with poverty (i.e. insecurity). This "truth" also relies heavily on the acceptance of the medieval concept of the Great Chain of Being that places the King nearest God, then men, then animals, on down to insects and inanimate Earth at the bottom. It is in this paradigm of truth that capitalism was born, leading to the consumerist and wasteful existence we now all share as Americans. It is this paradigm that has allowed genocide and exploitation of indigenous peoples the world over through colonization and occupation. This truth is very rigid as were the childhoods of those most often following its dictum. There is a strong connection between the harsh, strict father who relies on the authority of the harsh, strict heavenly Father for his power over his family. This is a paradigm dependent on violence.

Progressive truth is not necessarily one of nonviolence or cooperation, but it should be. The human race is in a struggle against itself and this living ecology that supports us. While our attention is on Christmas, terrorism, war, Tiger Wood's love life or the latest Hollywood gossip, the truth is slipping away. We will soon run out of scapegoats for the failures of our social structure. The capitalist economic model is failing, we've destroyed so much of our planet it is beginning to change in ways that will make life very difficult for many millions of us and yet we continue to cling desperately to that strong father figure in our government, hoping that it will use Biblical force on those who threaten our way of life (security). I'm not calling for the eradication of religion or the end of government. But I ask believers to look more closely at their teachings. Is there no room in your religion for other people of other colors, genders, ages and yes, even other religions? Is there no room for love in your religion? How about cooperation? Or respect for this amazing planet we ride effortlessly upon?

It's time to stop. Sit in silence with your own thoughts. Let your heart wrap around the suffering caused by our own greed. Stop rehearsing and just let the truth shine.

New Doors, New Ways

2010-01-02T07:16:00.000-08:00

I have become
my own version of an optimist.
If I can't make it through
one door, I'll go
through
another door -
or I'll make a door.

~ Rabindranath Tagore

There will always be bumps in the road of life. Often the obstacles are more important to our progress than the times of smooth sailing. Each personal crisis or conflict in our lives allows us the opportunity to stretch, to respond in a kinder way than we did before. It offers another chance to practice self care, anger control, and compassion. Think of the delicate looking crocus that is the first sign of Spring here in the NW. It must first struggle against the hard shell of the seed, and then it pushes through often frozen earth, just to find the slant sunlight of late winter. It blooms so early that it risks freezing, and yet it pushes forward. It may appear delicate to our eyes, but there is a fierce will to survive and make it's way toward light that we would do well to emulate.

After the struggle
Life returns
stronger

Transformation

2010-01-01T13:48:00.000-08:00

A new decade unfurls it's wet wings
prismatic possibilities in a fractal space
the universe compressed in each human mind
but where will thought lead
rest now young one
let wings dry
heart warm
then glide
gently
into
peace

Welcome 2010

2010-01-01T11:05:00.000-08:00

I wish all a year without suffering, one filled with great joys and most of all peace.

As the year begins I engage in the annual pastime of setting resolutions by reflecting on the last year with critical 20/20 vision that highlights my successes and my weaknesses. As a parent I have continued to build the bonds of trust and love with my daughter always engaging her opinions and ideas in household decisions. I revel in her confidence, overall happiness and curiosity. Balancing my individual needs with hers has often been a challenge but it is a dance of priorities that we are learning new steps daily as she finds ways to engage on her own more and more.

My work with peace and nonviolence continues to deepen and engage more of my spare and rare free time. This coming year I am taking steps to increase my daily experience of living ahimsa by going car free and spending many more miles on leg-powered wheels. I will work closely with a mentor this year to practice and learn more as I strive to be a better "ocular demonstration" of nonviolence. I continue to un-complicate and un-clutter my life meaning many trips to Goodwill. This year will see a continuation of my meditation practice and an exploration of bridging my spiritual and physical realms, bringing the simplicity of the physical into my mind while letting the peaceful equipoise experienced in my deepest meditation to radiate in my wakeful engaged moments.

My livelihood remains in the tiny technical world of electron microscopy. Although I continue to work as a corporate library administrator, I hope to see a segue from the semiconductor world in the world of information management, peace and nonviolence information in particular. As long as I'm shackled to debt this transition will need to be metered and cautious. But when the universe opens the opportunity to me, I will do my best to be ready for the leap.

In love, I will remain open to each moment and each heart that I encounter on the journey. I have taken a more discerning approach to my personal relationships. In the Dhammapada Buddha says it is better to travel alone that to travel with a fool. I interpret that to mean that the one we choose to journey with must be on a similar path and if fortunate, the same trajectory toward a common goal. So often I've fallen to the fanciful whims of my romantic heart and am happy to have learned the limitless nature of my love; not to be boxed in by gender, age, race or status. But as my journey becomes focused on a goal I realize that an intimate partner must share the vision, drive and passion for peace and nonviolence that I have. They must live ahimsa, nurturing themselves both physically and spiritually so that they can give fierce love to the hurting world without depleting their own reserves or becoming self destructive. In this year I've accepted that my life may be one of solitude, yet filled with the love of community. I believe this explains my fascination with monastic communities, but my community must be engaged in social action toward a just and safe world and not just focused on personal spiritual perfection. I am just beginning to get to know the peace community here in Portland, and am finding the warmth, love and support I need to nurture my own growth. This year I will open myself to, and engage myself more, with this beloved community.

Of course, I will also work toward a better diet and more exercise with everyone else.
And I WILL blog more and wax poetic on life's daily joys and challenges.
May we all be healthier and happier. I look forward to sharing this new year with all of you. May we link hearts, arms, and blogs in our work for peace.
Namaste.

Winds of Change

2009-12-23T17:39:00.000-08:00

As the days grow longer and the holi-daze fades into crisp edged reality once again, I peer into my future, willing in to form what change I wish to bring into my life. Since our tragic descent into the abysmal role as worlds primary war addict, I've felt nothing but shame each time I pull into a gas station. I see that the love of freedom on wheels that I have ignorantly enjoyed since my teens is also death and misery to hundreds of thousands who just by chance were born on top of the oil we hunger for. We literally destroyed an entire country on a lie and are in the process of obliterating yet another. Each time I press down the gas pedal a new widow mourns, and other widows starve with their children in dangerous streets. The SUV craze that has grasped the hearts of American Soccer Moms is causing the suffering of so many other mothers in the world. Just as it was when I learned of the mass slaughter and misery of beautiful life forms we call "food" animals created in me the vegetarian heart, so this too has taken my will and pleasure of driving the roads across my beautiful country.

The decision to stop driving takes preparation, both logistically and emotionally. Like all young Americans I couldn't wait to get my drivers license. I learned how to feed and car for my car, changing my own oil, spark plugs, points (yes I'm that old) and tires. I loved everything about cars. I liked to go fast on the highway, but I also loved to crawl over the back country slow in a Jeep. I never would have imagined a day would come that I would voluntarily give up my four wheels. It is like the story often told of a conversation between George Fox (founder of The Religious Society of Friends) and William Penn (founder of the Province of Pennsylvania) where William expresses concern over wearing a sword, a common practice in the time. Fox responded saying "Wear it as long as thou canst". On a subsequent meeting Penn announces "I have taken thy advice; I wore it as long as I could". To be true to my principles of nonviolence I must admit that I have driven for as long as I can. The time has come to learn a new way which just happens to be healthier in many ways.

I am now the proud owner of three bikes, a trailer bike for longer rides with my daughter and her bike as well. Between the three I'm well equipped for many types of travel. One is set up as a grocery runner with large panniers on the back and a big produce basket on the front. My Kona Smoke is set up as my hauling bike, with attachments for trailers. My Kona Dew Plus is my run around ride, with a seat on the back that my daughter can use until she gets to 70lbs. I also get a monthly pass for the light rail and buses. The area that I live currently is not the easiest for this, so to make this transition even easier I will be moving to a more mass transit friendly area of the city.

My lease vehicle goes back to Toyota in May. I'll be posting more on this experiment then. I had felt some dread, but as the day gets closer I'm getting more excited. It's getting almost unbearable to drive my car now. Being on the bike feels much more like freedom to me than the smothering enclosure of the car. And physically I feel so much stronger and healthier. Admittedly, Portland is one of the most bike friendly cities in the U.S. but hopefully more cities will catch on.

I wish all beings everywhere a happier, healthier New Year. May we all find the path of peace easy to tread, but if not get a mountain bike and enjoy a challenging ride.

The Womb - A Solstice Poem

2009-12-22T06:20:00.001-08:00

In the longest night we gather our courage
Each heart beat awash in memory
like waves depositing ancient bones from the depths
trapped in the cogs of the galactic timekeeper
haunted by the ghosts of lost souls and promises
swimming in the womb of wonder at what might come

The decomposition of the maiden’s bridal gown
now nurtures hard shelled shivering seeds beneath the snow
Her court of evergreens bend genuflect in icy winds
groaning in anguished anticipation
we fill the silence of our naked vulnerability
with songs of hope, bathing in each others warmth

Her chill breath awakens our nascent fears
of a never ending darkness, emptiness, and death
her cold wet kisses wash our strained features
We wait in childlike wonder and horror
for the birth cries of a new sun
praying it shine so warm and bright
as to melt the hardened hearts and fears of mortals

Commitment to a Dream

2009-10-17T17:53:00.000-07:00

On the evening of October 10th the members of United States Nonviolent Peaceforce Chapters Association (USNPCA) listened to a story, a remarkable story. As part of our annual retreat we invited David Hartsough and Mel Duncan to tell the story of their own dedication to a vision, their meeting and their courageous effort and sacrifice to bring this vision into reality. That shared vision was Nonviolent Peaceforce.

Throughout their lives both of these men have been moved to action in the face of injustice. At the early age of 15 David Hartsough shook the hand of Martin Luther King Jr. When he went to college he selected Howard University, a black college, which allowed him opportunity to participate in the Civil Rights Movement. He and his college mates began lunch counter sit-in in Arlington, VA., where they endured insults, being spit on and having lit cigarettes dropped in their shirts, but they continued their nonviolent struggle. At one point David was confronted by a switchblade wielding man who gave him two seconds to leave or die. Rather than attempt to physically protect himself, he told the man, "I'll still try to love you, but do what you think is right". The man left and David continued to sit.

In the 80's David went to Guatemala during the worst period of the "scorched earth" campaigns by the US backed Guatemalan military. Over 800 villages vanished during this program of death and destruction on an indigenous people. Torture and disappearances were common. In 1985 a group formed to attempt to find out the truth of their missing loved ones. Two of the leaders were kidnapped and brutally tortured and killed, including pulling out the fingernails of the two year old son of one of the victims. The two remaining leaders of this group approached Peace Brigades International (PBI), which David was with, and requested 24 hour accompaniment so that they could continue to speak out but not die. PBI did this and more, emboldening a people. To learn more about PBI and this work please read Unarmed Bodyguards: International Accompaniment for the Protection of Human Rights. ‘Their courage inspired others. And they didn’t die. Walking down the street with these courageous people was one of the scariest things I’ve done.’

David has continued his journey to support nonviolent struggle abroad by going to Kosovo in the 1990s, where civil society groups were working diligently to build a nonviolent movement against Milosevic and the encroaching ethnic cleansing. He went to the Hague Appeal for Peace in December of 1999 to encourage nonviolent support for the people of Kosovo. He had a vision of a large team of peacekeepers, global in scope, that could be rapidly deployed to areas nearing a flash point of violence. This vision was shared with another man in the crowd of 9000 peacemakers, Mel Duncan.

Many years before the Hague, Mel had also felt the call to help protect human rights. He joined with other witnesses to go to the border between Honduras and Nicaragua where the US backed Contras were targeting civilians for torture and murder. The situation was very similar to that of Guatemala, except that the US was backing the rebels against the the Nicaraguan government while in Guatemala the US backed the military controlled government. This became an area dominated by terror for the citizens during the Reagan administration. Mel shared in the feelings of fear, but like many of his fellow witnesses, was inspired by the fact that as long as internationals were present the Contras did not attack. This observation germinated into Nonviolent Peaceforce.

Like David, Mel went to the Hague to organize other peaceworkers around the idea of a global peace army, like the one envisioned by Gandhi, the shanti sena. Feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of people, 9000, he stepped back and listened, taking the loving advice offered by his wife. While listening he heard a man standing on chair asking a speaker about why we couldn't have a global peace team that could be deployed to conflict areas. Mel pushed his way through the crowd and grabbed the man, David, by the elbow and asked if he was serious about that idea, and if so he wanted to help organize it.

While in the Hague, President Clinton announced that ethnic cleansing in Kosovo had begun and that the world had two choices, to turn a blind eye or to send in a military solution. David and Mel, and many others at the Hague, knew that in fact there was a third choice. The nonviolent choice would have minimized both the loss of lives and the lasting effects of the environmental damage of chemical and radioactive by-products that continue to harm the people that NATO had hoped to save. When Milosevic fell, it wasn't by bombs or a violent revolution, but by a nonviolent people's movement in Serbia. This movement is documented in the film Bringing Down a Dictator.

From 1999 to 2002 David and Mel worked diligently, "maintaining the focus", as they say and bringing in people from all over the world. They borrowed cars, slept on couches, made up fliers in the middle of a rain storm, brainstormed in the cabin in the woods while a blizzard snowed them in and so many stories and minds joined together to make the convening event in New Dehli a reality.

Luckily for all of us, one of the members of USNPCA had taken a leave last year to hone his skills as a documentary filmmaker. David Berrian recruited a couple volunteers and together they captured this amazing story on film. So I will stop telling the story now in hopes that by this time next year you will have the opportunity to hear it as it unfolded for all of us on the evening of the 10th.

I will add that everyone in that room was deeply touched by the story of Nonviolent Peaceforce. The previous night we had listened to Rita Webb, who had spent 5 1/2 years in Sri Lanka on the first team deployed. Her powerful talk reminded us of why we work so hard each year telling Americans not only about the power of nonviolence, but how Nonviolent Peaceforce is taking that vision and making it a reality in the lives of real human beings. It is for these people, trapped in conflict areas, that we tell this story. It is for their safety and security that we bring the story to others so that you too can help continue the story for them and many more.

In celebration of the ten year anniversary of their journey, Nonviolent Peaceforce asks you to become a founder too. Mel will soon join David in retirement, leaving his position as Executive Director (but don't think we won't hear more from these two). If you share the vision of a less violent world with us, then join the founders circle by committing financial support over a three to five year period. Learn more here.

Nonviolent Peaceforce has teams in Sri Lanka and the Philippines. We were also able to send a rapid deployment to Guatemala for 10 months to protect human rights workers there during election time. To learn more visit the website. If you would like to get involved with a local chapter of the USNPCA just ask me, or visit here.

The following video will show you more about Nonviolent Peaceforce. Thanks for reading. I hope to see you in the founders circle.

Adventures in Nonviolence and the Quest for Peace

2009-09-06T21:13:00.001-07:00

The following is a talk I gave on September 6th at The Unitarian Universalist Congregation Of Salem (UUCS).

___________________________

Why Adventures in Nonviolence? Gandhi thought of his life as a series of experiments in nonviolence. I’ve worked in labs quite awhile and experiments are generally well planned and controlled. My life, on the other hand has been neither. Each year I offer a series of nine monthly meetings that explore topics in nonviolence, which I fear would bring fewer people out if I called them “Experiments in Nonviolence” rather than an “Adventure”. An Adventure suggests excitement, something that gets your heart pumping. Many Adventurers take great risk just for the thrill of the journey. I’d suggest that when Rosa Parks took her seat at the front of the bus, knowing full well the possible repercussions of her actions, her heart was beating furiously. When Gandhi reached down to clutch salt from the sea or when Dr. Martin Luther King Jr marched his people, they were indeed engaging in moments that made them feel very much alive, a peak moment of heightened human potential. Nonviolence is not a passive activity, it’s alive and thriving.

When embarking on a perilous journey we rely on tools for navigation. Today we have the handy GPS built right into our phones. But for centuries it was the North Star helped seafaring souls find their destination. For Gandhi, MLKJr, Dorothy Day and so many others, that North Star was Nonviolence with a destination of Peace. I can never achieve perfect nonviolence, and that is not my goal, anymore than it would be to walk on the North star. For each time I take an antibiotic to fight off a infection, or even more simply, when I boil water for my tea, I'm killing unseen life forms, little sentient beings that are part of this great interdependent web of all existence that we affirm in our seventh principle.

It is inevitable that we will cause harm to others just as others will cause harm to us. I've met no one who has gone through this life without feeling hurt, sorrow and pain due to the actions or in-actions of another. But once harmed how we respond is of utmost importance. Do we lash back in anger, or can we learn to react calmly and intelligently in the most nonviolent way possible.

If I were to strike my left thumb with a hammer, my right hand would immediately go to it’s aid, rubbing the injured appendage. My left thumb would not hide from the offending hand that had just struck it, nor would it try to get a hold of the hammer to retaliate against the right hand, it would just accept the loving kindness being offered. Our bodies are naturally interconnected and interdependent just as the larger world is. It is this kind of love and forgiveness that we must all try to cultivate toward those we might call our "enemy".

Speaking of the UU Principles, I'd like to point out that all of them relate to the practice of nonviolence on some level.

Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth;

A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
The right of conscience;
The goal of world community with peace, liberty and justice for all;

All are important to the work of peace, but I’d like to focus on our first principle, the recognition of the inherent worth and dignity of every person. It's easy to recognize the worth and dignity of those of like mind to us, or even those who are downtrodden by the unjust systems our society, or of a different race or sexual orientation or gender identification. None of us wants to suffer, that is a common desire of all living creatures. As human we also find we have little tolerance for the suffering of others.

When I was in grade school there was a special needs boy in our class named Stephen. He wore thick glasses, was physically uncoordinated, was mentally slower and he wore a protective undergarment for any “accidents” that might happen. Some of the boys in the class found him an easy target for ridicule. I found their teasing intolerable and would come to his aid, positioning my body between him and his aggressors, a technique known as “interpositioning”. They would stop. Often I would even escort him home since he lived not far from me, and he and I were never harassed by the neighborhood “bullies”. Today I know that what I was doing was “unarmed civilian accompaniement”. These are a couple of nonviolent techniques used by groups like Peace Brigades International, Nonviolent Peaceforce, the Fellowship of Reconciliation to protect human rights workers, and civilians in conflict areas of the world.

But it’s not only the victims that we must recognize self worth and dignity of, but also of the aggressors of the world. What happens to our calm inner peace when we're asked to recognize the inherent worth and dignity of, say, Dick Cheney, George Bush, Saddam Hussein, or Hitler. Often peace activists are just as filled with hatred and anger as the perpetrators of war and genocide are. I was recently looking at some footage of anti-war demonstration from the sixties, against the Vietnam War - it was itself a war. I could see war in the faces of the "peace" activists just as surely as war came home in the eyes of our soldiers. We all carry war inside of us, now it's the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, but the pain, suffering, anger and hatred are still the same. The guilt and shame do not belong only to the men dropping the bombs or pulling the triggers, or the men telling them to do so, but we all share in this together. It is clear from the generations of suffering that violence will never bring peace in this world. We can only achieve peace by peaceful means. To do this we must first root out the weeds of war from ourselves and plant the seeds peace, care for them, water them and cultivate them. As Gandhi said in the responsive reading, Nonviolence is a plant of slow growth, growing imperceptibly, but surely.

So how do we begin to cultivate this nonviolent way of being, acting and reacting? We train and we practice, just like the athlete with Olympic hopes. As Thict Nhat Hanh pointed out in the opening reading, if we wait for the crisis or war to happen before we train, it will be too late. He also notes that "even if you know that nonviolence is better than violence, if your understanding is only intellectual and not in your whole being, you will not act nonviolently. The fear and anger will prevent you." To his insights I'd like to add that also your previous training will prevent you. That training came from your family of origin, your early experiences, and even from your entertainment and environment today. If we spend our leisure time watching violent movies or playing violent video games it only stands to reason that in a crisis our response will be violent.

Some of us grew up reading comic books where the hero is incorruptibly good, and violence never really hurts. When Superman swoops down to capture the fleeing bad guys they are only stunned until the police take them away and there's never any collateral damage or innocent bystanders injured or killed. And once the bad guys go to jail the story ends - no parole, no increased violentization of the person behind bars and no revenge on the community after they're released. Unfortunately these stories are deeply ingrained into our culture. The American culture is a culture of violence and it's up to all of us to begin the transformation to a culture of peace.

Strengthening your inner peaceforce to do this important work can be a simple thing. As simple as just sitting quietly, aware of your breath, your body, the world around you just as it is. Meditation is one of the oldest and cheapest ways of cultivating inner peace. You don't need to invest in an altar, cushions, or other equipment, simply sit quietly and mindfully. If you can't hold still, walk mindfully, wash dishes mindfully, vacuum mindfully, ride your bike mindfully, etc, etc. Maybe in the beginning you can only be mindful of five breaths or five steps, but with practice that number will grow. This will plant the seed and begin to weed out some of the negative emotions. The goal is not to repress negative feelings, but to sit in awareness with and touch these emotions. To cry or even break down in meditation is common. Sitting with the war inside ourselves is not easy, but until we do our inner peace will be weak and fragile.

Maybe meditation is not your way. Some people really struggle with this, but do not despair. There are workshops including mine, that give you a full 8 hours of nonviolence skill building. Marshall Rosenberg's Nonviolent Communication workshops are offered all over the globe and are a great way to begin introducing nonviolence into your language and relationships. Starting a nonviolence study or practice group is another option. Playing a nonviolent video game is even an option today - A Force More Powerful is a new video game (based on the movie) that allows you to try different nonviolent strategies and organizing in the gaming environment. And we always have a choice in the entertainment we choose, the foods we eat, the drinks we consume, and the company we keep. Everything that touches us is a training opportunity for nonviolence. And if the war inside of you is strong I'd suggest counseling or therapy to help in dealing with such strong emotion.

Thict Naht Hanh has worked with Vietnam Vets and suggests to them that rather than return to Vietnam to apologize as a way to end their guilt for those they have killed, to help the people and children here, today, that are living in despair. We all carry the war to greater and lesser extent and as our men and women return from Iraq and Afghanistan it is our duty to share their burden, hear their stories and share in their anguish. We must all become keenly aware of the truth of war and violence. From there great healing is possible and a new nonviolent way of living can emerge.

So you may wonder, other than inner peace and ultimtely world peace, are there any other benefits of this training, discipline, and inner struggle demanded by nonviolence?

The Mother of the boy Stephen, in my grade school class stopped me one day and asked if I would come to his birthday party. I told her I couldn’t buy him anything, but she insisted that it didn’t matter, that it would mean a lot if I would just come. So I did. Even tho it was his birthday, Stephen gave me a gift. I opened it to find a stuffed toy lamb, a soft white lamb. I didn’t need or expect the gift, I already had a sense that what I was doing meant something greater. It gave my young life meaning.

In case after case that I've read from field team members of Nonviolent Peaceforce, Peace Brigades International, Michigan Peaceteam, Fellowship of Reconciliation, and on and on, is that the work of nonviolence brings meaning and a sense of purpose that is so often lacking in our modern lives. The latest statistics from 2005 show that 10% of Americans are taking anti-depressants, that's 27 million people. This is a clear indication of a lack of meaning or a sense of helplessness in the turbulent sea called life. But I'd suggest that engaging in a practice of nonviolence might be a better cure. Just think if we had a peace army 27 million strong - peace would be possible on the global scale. Sue Severin a health educator in California was so angered by the terror imposed on Nicaraguan villagers during the Reagan era that she volunteered with a faith-based citizens' group to document terrorist activity along the Honduran border. While there they discovered that just their presence stopped the Contra attacks, a technique now referred to as protective accompaniment. She was so inspired by this realization that she came back and recruited more people and then returned again to protect more of the villages. In her words:

While I was there I never felt fear. I think the main reason was, I was there out of choice...I found- much to my surprise- that I became very calm in danger. I'm a Quaker and don't go very much with "God" language, but the only way I can explain it is, I felt I was in the hands of God: not safe- that I wouldn't be hurt- but that I was where I was supposed to be, doing what I was supposed to be doing. And this can be addictive. Maybe that's why we kept going back.

Mrs. Ege (egga), a Dane that helped organize the rescue of Danish Jews had these words to share:

We helped the Jews because it meant that for once in your life you were doing something worth-while...I think that the Danes should be equally grateful to the Jews for giving them an opportunity to do something decent and meaningful.

I can attest to this in my own life. As I continue the adventure, deepening my own practice I feel more alive, motivated and driven than I ever have. With each talk and workshop I learn more. It is an addiction worth feeding and encouraging. My practice is also encouraged and nurtured by my daughter's smiles and laughter.

We may not be called upon to rescue people hiding and running for their lives. Most of us won't have the life circumstances to join an unarmed civilian peacekeeping effort. Hopefully none of us will be attacked by some random act of violence. But if you practice nonviolence as a way of life, what we call principled nonviolence, you will find just as much reward as the women quoted above, you might even get a stuffed animal. In 2002 a technique for using MRI to study the brain activity while people interacted became available. Using this technique it was demonstrated that humans get pleasure from working in cooperation with one another as opposed to the me-only competitive interaction. In other words it makes us happy to be nice, no need for anti depressants in this way of life. As American's we have a long road ahead of us to reach a truly peaceful society. There is much work to be done and if it's done by individuals at peace, our culture will change to one of peace and this will be true peace.

We've all heard the phrase "you are what you eat", but it's more true to say "we are what we think". In the opening verse of the Dhammapada Buddha tells us that "Our life is shaped by our mind; we become what we think. Suffering follows an evil thought as the wheels of a cart follow the oxen that draw it. Joy follows a pure thought like a shadow that never leaves."

May you truly have peace of mind. May you all enjoy the adventures while you go on your quest for peace - mindful to keep your eye always on the guiding light of nonviolence which will followed closely by its shadow, Joy.

May it be so for all beings everywhere.
Namaste

Adventures in Nonviolence

2009-09-06T19:48:00.000-07:00

Where: First Unitarian Church - Daisy Bingham Rm (below Main St. Sanctuary)
1211 SW Main St. PDX
When: 6pm - 8pm
Our Adventures are based on Coleman McCarthy’s Class of Nonviolence. Reading materials for each section can be viewed for free at www.salsa.net/peace/conv

Adventures in Nonviolence are part of the peace and nonviolence outreach of Peaceforce Oregon. The purpose is to both educate and build a community of nonviolent peace workers. Each adventure is activity based, essentially a mini workshop. You will move around the room and work with markers, glue, etc, so dress casually. The sessions are crafted to help you in your own discoveries in this great adventure.

There will be light snacks provided.

Peaceforce Oregon is a member of the United States Nonviolent Peaceforce Chapter Association (USNPCA). Through our membership in USNPCA our chapter is a constituted Member Organization of the Nonviolent Peaceforce. This association allows our chapter members to participate and be a voting member of NP on such important items as long-term organizational plans and the approval and changes to the Nonviolent Peaceforce's by-laws. Our mission is to support the important work being done by Nonviolent Peaceforce by offering training, outreach, fundraising and community for those dedicated to nonviolence.

To learn more visit http://peaceforceoregon.org
http://nonviolentpeaceforce.org
http://usnpca.org

This years adventures are hosted by the Peace Action Committee of First Unitarian to provide an educational opportunity to their congregation and the local community.
For more info call Terri at 503-816-4826 or email her at tshofner@gmail.com

New Nonviolent Peaceforce Video

2009-08-07T22:03:00.000-07:00

Our Social Disease

2009-07-07T14:44:00.000-07:00

The Spirit of Life that I felt early in life succumbed to my training, my acceptance of the social meme of violence. "Meme" is a term first coined by Richard Dawkins in his book The Selfish Gene, as a way to adapt evolutionary theory to social and cultural ideas and practices. A meme, as a idea, does not require supporting, scientific truth to spread. That the earth was flat was both a meme, a paradigm, and also untrue. The word paradigm has some very difficult definitions that I will spare you, but a simple one that works for me is that it is a meme that everybody accepts as truth, and that all other memes must fit into. That one big overriding idea sets a framework. From that framework we build our political structure, our prisons, our legal system, our conflict resolution programs, and even our ideas of what peace means. One such meme today is that violence is our natural, genetic, predisposition. The meme states that violence is an inextricable part of human nature, and that there can be no other way, even if it means the extinction of our species. There have been tomes written on this meme. Yet, if we place this self proclaimed paradigm under the magnifying glass it begins to sizzle until all that's left is a charred spot and some smoke.

Probably the best way to examine the human propensity to kill another human is boot camp. Here we train our young men and women to fore-go any consideration of human life and kill someone that they do not know and who has done nothing to them. We need not go back to the Vikings to understand this, but just as an aside, the Vikings were a brutal group and yet if we look at their decedents today we find a changed paradigm. In Sweden we find peaceful resolutions on the national scale. That alone is encouragement that even America could one day live in peace. I will take us on a nostalgic trip down memory lane to World War II. The soldiers of this war have been commemorated by Hollywood for their bravery in combat. I certainly do not dispute their bravery. But I do want to point out that when questioned on the battle experience it was discovered that only 15 to 20 percent of the American riflemen would fire at the enemy. US Army Brigadier General S.L.A. Marshall coordinated the study. He went on to corroborate this study in the larger European theater, conducted thousands of interviews in over 400 infantry companies and again the results were consistent with the American study. What Marshall discovered was that even with training and demonization of the enemy there was a reluctance to kill another human being. Could it be that maybe this paradigm of violence has a flaw, a loose thread, that if we pull at it long enough, the entire wool covering our eyes might unravel to reveal our true nature, one of peace.

The Army took Marshall's studies very seriously. They could not tolerate conscientious objectors on the battlefield. Posturing by shooting over the enemies head rather then through it threatened the hierarchical chain of command. Changes were made. In Korea the resistance to killing dropped such that over half of our boys fired at the enemy. By Vietnam the numbers showed that 90 to 95% of our soldiers had no moral qualms in firing into another living person. Today, when our children are directed to kill every boy child of fighting age in Falluja, Iraq, they no longer grow a conscience as their grandfathers might have, they are able to kill children. So boot camp has changed, utilizing psychological warfare, not on the enemy but on our own beloved children. They began a process called "violentization" by the renowned criminologist Lonnie Athens. His life and work is presented in the book, Why They Kill: The Discoveries of A Maverick Criminologist.

How are violent actors created? This question plagued me for many years. My thoughts and dreams turned to violence more often than not. Lonnie Athens had grown up in a violent home. His older brother became violent yet Lonnie did not. His life's work centered around answering the question of why. Why didn't he also become violent? And once violent can we bring them back, restoring them to their community? Lonnie identified four stages to violentization.

The first stage is the Brutalization Stage. Within this stage the violent subjugation of the person takes place. This could be a drill sergeant spitting curses into the fresh faces of his recruits. This could be a father. I recall a particularly hot summer day in Nampa Idaho when my father put me and my younger brother to work moving debris in my grandfathers back yard into a pile for disposal. My father had left us to our work. After a time my brother, tired and sweaty, asked if we could take a break. I saw no harm and made the executive decision for us to sit in the shade for a bit. My father came out in seconds, screaming, face red, that we were not finished yet. We quickly jumped up. I tried to explain that we were only taking a short break. My father picked up a piece of antennae wire, grabbed me by the hand and began wailing against my exposed legs. My brother ran off, escaping punishment for the moment. When my father left I looked down at the bleeding welts raising up, angry as my father, against my white skin. I quickly returned to work, my sight blurred by tears of anger. I kicked and threw the garbage into the pile until I was exhausted. My brother rarely escaped these beatings. He suffered from ADDHD so his behavior rarely met with my parents approval. I witnessed his being whipped so many times. I know that he ultimately became immune to this punishment. This is another method of brutalization that Athens calls personal horrification. It is bearing witness to the violent subjugation of members of the primary group, for example a mother, brother, friend or fellow recruit.

Violent coaching is the final aspect of the brutalization stage. In this the coach teaches violence by glorifying it in story, ridicule or coercion. My brother, Scott, hated to fight. As a result my father called him some ugly names like "pussy" and "coward". One day my brother was running home and my father locked the door on him. My brother screamed to be let in because a neighbor boy was after him. My dad screamed back that if he wanted in he'd better kick that other boy's ass. Fuelled by his anger at my father, Scott turned and walked reluctantly back up the street toward the other boy. Scott was easily twice this boys size. Scott hit him one time and he went down. My brother received the heroes welcome after that. He had learned to be violent. He finally earned his Kentucky redneck. When the other boy's father came down to talk with dad, dad cursed him and his kid. Needless to say we weren't real popular in that neighborhood.

That brings us to the second stage, the Belligerency Stage. This is where we see a light bulb blink on above the subjects head. To stop myself or my group member from being violently subjugated I will need to take violent action myself. But this is only the first, mental step, toward violence. Usually at this stage we see verbal abuse and threats, not physical. At the completion of this stage is the first violent action. In High School I became friends with Tori, a fiery red-head with a personality to match. I went to her house to spend the night. Her mother worked in the local liquor store and gave us each two bottles of Tickled Pink before she drove off with her boyfriend. We walked around the night streets in this backwoods area of Shepherdsville Kentucky. A car pulled up. Tori knew the two boys in the car. She liked one of them. So they joined us for a walk in a field nearby. One of the boys offered us some ludes (Quaaludes) and we each took one. She walked on with the fella she liked and they laid down. I did likewise with the other guy. He proceeded to kiss me and I pushed him away. I told him I wasn't interested. He continued to persist in his plans, trying to get his hand down my pants. I jumped up and in a very loud and drunk voice told him he could go "f--- himself because I wasn't interested". My friend heard the commotion and jumped up too, zipping her pants closed. About that time I heard a shot and whizz of a projectile nearby, followed by an angry voice shouting something to the effect of "you blankety blank kids better get outta here or I'll kill ya". So we ran, stumbling and stupid drunk. The two boys were way ahead of us. As we reached the end of the field we saw their headlights heading away. I apologized to my friend for interrupting her evening but she didn't mind. We stumbled along, singing "how dry I am" at the top of our voices, all the way back to her house. Her mom was still out and the door was locked. As the ludes and alcohol swirled lazily in our heads, we lay down in the grass, cuddled together and fell asleep. The next week at school, the girlfriend of the boy who had attempted to fondle me (or worse), Donna, accused me of sleeping with her boyfriend and said she was going to kick my ass. She had caught in the hallway at my locker, trying to snare me into her triangle of love. I was bigger and taller than her. I knew I would win a fight with her. So, in my calmest voice, my eyes square on hers, I told her that I would meet her at 7am in the back parking lot but that I wanted her to know that this fight was not about the piece of s-*^ that she called a boyfriend, but rather I wanted to kick her ass for being so stupid as to believe that sack of s"-*^ could ever be faithful or truthful to her. I'd fight her all right, but only because I'd enjoy it. It was agreed.

That night I bragged to my father that I had a fight for the morning. He didn't seem quite a supportive as he had for my brother. I drank vodka and took a few Valium, but I did that often enough that it seemed to effect me more like coffee by that time in my life. Then I imagined every possible way I could hurt this girl. I pictured her over and over going down against the pavement and me grabbing her hair and pounding her head into it until it opened up for me. I did everything to keep my adrenaline high. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to prove to my father and anyone else that wanted to hurt me that I was no push over. My father drove me down to the appointed spot. All was quiet. I waited, pumped up on coffee, but still she never showed. I was deflated. I went in to class. I spotted her later in the hallway and confronted her. She humbled herself to me. She apologized. She told me I was right about her boyfriend, who was no longer her boyfriend. It was not the victory I had hoped for and I felt cheated. I was securely in the stage of belligerency and I would remain there throughout my college career, but not once did anyone ever give me the opportunity to act upon my violent thoughts, except for my father. Looking back on this incident what disturbs me most is that I never once considered the impact her death or injury might have had on those who loved her. Nor did I think about her as anything more than my enemy. I had somehow demonized this girl. I had rationalized my aggression placing the blame squarely on her. After all she was stupid enough to be with this jerk, so isn't this just survival of the more intelligent.

In observing my fellow Americans I've concluded that I am not alone in this state of belligerency. But here most of us stop the progression. Athen's speaks of the enormous energy, he even calls it courage, that it takes to actually go the next step, that of seriously injuring or even killing another human. This step is both frightening and dehumanizing. Athen's third stage is Violent Performances. Beyond making the resolution, a pact with violence, here the subject attempts real violence, uncertain of the outcome. If Donna and I had come to blows in the parking lot as planned, we would have instantly been surrounded by a ring of other students screaming and urging us onward. In the end one of us would have achieved notoriety in the hallways of the high school, while the other nursed their wounds. It's this reputation that sets in motion the next stage. Being respected and feared by your collegues makes the subject feel safe. This, after all, is the ultimate goal.The final stage is Virulency. With new fame comes confidence. Athens states the the subject becomes "overly impressed with his violent preformance and ultimately with himself in general." My father had his in-group, not unlike a gang but without the formalities. Many in this gang were brothers and cousins, the Cash boys. One had been a wife beater until the day that she could handle no more and hanged herself. All of these men were violent. They glorified their violence in recounting stories together while drinking and smoking pot. One night I opened the door only to see another door. John, Dad's close friend, had put his fist through a door in a rage. The swollen bloody fist could not then free itself. The group had removed the door from it's hinges and brought him to our house so dad could use his skillsaw to free him. Lucky for John, he didn't lose his hand in this druken episode. This group of belligerents scoured local bars looking for Mexicans. When they found a lone Mexican enjoying a cerveza they would begin antagonizing him. Eventually convincing the man to exit the bar and fight. I don't know if they ever killed anyone, but I hope not. This practice is clearly in the virulent stage. I doubt that my father was the instigator of this action, but his acquiesence was the same as approval.

Athen's believes that women often lack the coaching to become violent, but there are cases that show that these same stages work regardless of gender. These stages are independent of class, intelligence, race or age. The only requirement is the physical and mental competence necessary to perform a violent criminal act.

The question remains on how to bring someone back. With nearly 95% of our troops in Iraq and Afghanistan in this final stage of violentization we must find a way. The numbers for domestic violence are on the rise as are suicides. Post traumatic stress disorder, PTSD, is an epidemic among our children serving. They return to civilian life with a bottle of happy pills, sleeping pills and any other pills that might numb the cacophony of sound and images rattling between their ears. There's only one known antedote to this and that is a spiritual solution. It is a return to the pure state, before the subjugation, the coaching and the action, where the Spirit of Life could still be heard. It won't come in a pill. It takes hard work on both the part of society and the part of our wounded. We first must listen compassionately to the stories they tell. They need to tell them so many times, until the story loses it's power to break them apart. We must suffer with them. What they have been forced to do they did for us and we owe them our love and compassion. So listen. So cry with them. Go to a Winter Soldier event. Read their poetry and blogs. Hold them in their hour of despair. When all the stories are out, a quiet will ensue. They may try to drown it out at a local bar or dance club, but eventually they may hear it. The Spirit will speak just as it did for Leo Tolstoy, as it has for millions throughout the history of our species. When we listen to Life, we will stop training our children in the devastating art of violence.

International Day in Support of Victims of Torture

2009-06-26T06:11:00.000-07:00

Since its creation in 1945, the United Nations has worked to eradicate torture. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights in its Article 5, proclaims that "no one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment".
On 10 December 1984, the UN General Assembly (Resolution 39/46) adopted the Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment (CAT). This Convention, which entered into force on 26 June 1987, obliges States to make torture a crime and to prosecute and punish those guilty of it. It notes explicitly that neither higher orders nor exceptional circumstances can justify torture.
It was an important step to acknowledge that torture, and all forms of inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment, are absolutely and universally illegal. Proposed by Denmark, the UN General Assembly in December 1997 marked the historic date - 26 June - as International Day in Support of Victims of Torture.

When I read Sister Dianna Ortiz's book, The Blindfold's Eyes, the reality of torture came into painful focus for me. What I find even more disturbing is that the men torturing her (and many others) were trained at Ft Benning Georgia at the School of the Americas. To learn more about America's school for assassins visit here. Torture is terrorism in its worst form. It isn't about getting information, it's about sending messages. The message that the U.S. has sent to the world by allowing our leaders to torture without any culpability is that we all endorse this cruelty. Why do the women at Abu Ghraib want someone to kill them?

From Daily Kos' partial transcript of a video (link to REAL stream) of Seymour
Hersh speaking at an ACLU event. He says the US government has videotapes of
children being raped at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq.
" Some of the worst things that happened you don't know about, okay? Videos, um, there are women there.
Some of you may have read that they were passing letters out, communications out
to their men. This is at Abu Ghraib ... The women were passing messages out
saying 'Please come and kill me, because of what's happened' and basically what
happened is that those women who were arrested with young boys, children in
cases that have been recorded. The boys were sodomized with the cameras rolling.
And the worst above all of that is the soundtrack of the boys shrieking that
your government has. They are in total terror. It's going to come out."

These are our children raping their children. Our boys and girls proudly going to serve their country, and then being turned into the worst monsters imaginable. How can we live with this, and how can our children live with this on their souls? Why do you think so many of our brave soldiers are coming back and killing themselves? This is not just torture, but child pornography of the worst kind. This is what Obama's administration does not want to see released. So I'm sure the CIA is busy with the shredders and incinerators. The evidence can be destroyed, but the scars and hate will live on and grow.

If you want to better understand how a good American kid can become an evil torturer watch this TED talk with Phil Zimbardo, or read his book, The Lucifer Effect. Be forewarned, the TED talk has graphic scenes of violence from Abu Ghraib.

If you feel as angry as I that our government allows this terrible inhumanity to continue, please take time to visit TASSC and/or NRCAT and see what you can do to stop this.

Back to the Blog

2009-06-08T05:52:00.000-07:00

I've been too long gone from the blog world. New love blossomed this Spring and I found myself lost in that wonderfully warm and fuzzy world of fresh beginnings. But the world has continued to spin, people have continued to fight and die, there are new widows and orphans and more pain. There were also small victories happening too. On February 13th, Umar Jaleel, a Sri Lankan peaceworker with Nonviolent Peaceforce was kidnapped by nine armed men from the NP house in Mindanao in the Philippines. He was released by his captors last week, ending the four month ordeal. His freedom was not bought with ransom, but rather with words. You can learn more about Jaleel's release here.

The GLBT world community is gaining recognition of their human rights after many decades of nonviolent struggle. In March, Sweden became the seventh country to recognize same-sex marriages. Although the US is not quite there yet, just this month New Hampshire became the sixth state to recognize same-sex marriage. Ironically, California slid backwards in this effort, but only temporarily.

As we celebrate Jaleel's release, and celebrate the growing recognition of love and relationship in our world, we also watch the unfolding trial of another nonviolent hero, Myanmar's pro-democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi. Suu Kyi was coming up for release from house arrest, but that possibility is being challenged. An American man violated the terms of her house arrest by swimming to her island home, believing he'd recieved a message from God to protect Suu Kyi. Her generous heart could not force the exhausted man to leave without giving rest and food first. As a result she is facing up to five years in a prison known for torture and harsh conditions. The world is not standing by idly, but letters, phone calls and protests are growing as the junta drags out the proceedings. If love calls you to act on behalf of this great woman visit Amnesty International for ideas. The Buddhist Peace Fellowship is also posting actions as they learn about them.

Here at home things have been grim as I listen to Cheney explain his great fondness of waterboarding. Reviewing the Pew survey on American attitudes toward torture shows that 4 out of 10 Americans believe torture is "often" or "sometimes" justified. If we look at the demographics more closely we find that this number increases to 6 out of 10 for Southern Evangelicals. I find it troubling that these self proclaimed warriors of God entertain the idea that threat power and pain are the best methods for getting answers and control over others. The life of the nonviolent, self-sacraficing Jesus was clearly wasted on them.

Of course when the graphic photos and videos slip out the crap rolls downhill and it's our young girls and boys in uniform that are labeled "bad apples" and are portrayed as going off on their own to torture. Philip Zimbardo, notorious for his controversial Stanford Prison Experiment has much to offer on this topic. I do warn that the images he shows of Abu Ghraib in this TED talk, even edited as they are, are quite graphic. If these images trouble you, can you even begin to imagine the ones that our President has decided to keep from us because they are "too troubling". Zimbardo gives us a way to the future. Instead of teaching our children to go with group think, let's teach them to be heros and nonviolent heros at that.

In closing, we've seen lots of ups and downs in the world of nonviolence over the last three months, but at least we're seeing both. In honor of our hero Aung San Suu Kyi, I will end with quote by her and with the wish that we all have the opportunity to live up to our full potential. "Human beings the world over need freedom and security that they may be able to realize their full potential."

Emotional Hobo

2009-02-28T17:36:00.000-08:00

Relationships are a conundrum to me. My affections have recently been sparked, my imagination whirling in possibilities only to be reeled back to the ground forcibly by my reason tinged with my perception of reality. Relationships challenge us all. Our species yearns for deep connection with the other. Some can satisfy that craving by serving their Lord, or Truth, dedicating their lives and their passions toward the greater good of all sentient beings. When I've practiced this in short periods of experiment I find myself swimming in a steady stream of contentment. I notice my emotional life no longer undulates from extreme peaks of joy down to dark sloughs of despair. I become an emotional hobo, riding down a middle rail. But this takes great discipline for me. The hobo life is a lonely one. The dynamic waters of this physical existence are in themselves a strong lure. Just as in sea kayaking I feel myself called to this challenge, to be able to navigate the winds, tides and waves of relationship and not lose my bearing. So far in this life I have failed to get beyond the breakers without disorientation. But if love calls I will answer, donning my personal flotation device and relaxing into the rolls. Whether I paddle into the sunset of my Truth alone or not, I vow to enjoy this ride we call life.

Capitalism or a Den of Thieves

2009-02-17T13:09:00.000-08:00

As a child I was weened on the American Dream, one where if I worked really, really hard I could one day be a rich as Donald Trump, have a half dozen multimillion dollar homes, drive a different car each week, and literally throw worry and cash to the four winds. Well, I worked hard, went deep into debt to get degrees, then worked even harder and got to upper middle class then bam! - end of the highway. After paying my debts, having a big house with pool, hot tub, great family, visiting Europe, drinking expensive wine, eating the expensive cheeses and the 18 year old single malt scotch, I sat down I realized what a terrible nightmare that dream really was. I had all I needed and more yet I still felt an emptiness. This emptiness increased with my spending. As I contemplated this dilemma I realized that I was a thief. For every thing that I had above and beyond my basic needs, another human somewhere on this planet had less. For me to afford these things that looked like the luxury of the Trumps, I bought cheap knockoffs made by tiny third world fingers that lived in a system of oppression that my government's military supported and enforced. The more I came to understand world economics, and in particular America's role in it, the less I could enjoy things and the more spiritually bankrupt I felt.

I couldn't quite figure out what the connection was. Most people assured me that my epicurean tastes were fine to indulge in, that I had worked hard and deserved it. But the people that rolled my fine cigarillo worked many more hours and harder than I could ever imagine, and probably couldn't even afford to enjoy the fruits of their own labor. I didn't work hard at all. Who was I kidding. Sitting in a cube, evaluating numbers or writing scripts doesn't work up a sweat for me. As an Engineer working purely to enrich a CEO and stock holders I was paid more than 5 times what a child care provider is paid. Whoa! My work does nothing to enrich real people, or ensure a peaceful human being for tomorrow, yet I made 5 times what these women make. This is the falsity of the political economy that capitalism enforces. Ask yourself, what is more important to you: to have a new cell phone designed by teams of engineers taking a huge portion of the local economic pie, or that your child gets the love and care he needs while you're at your job 9 hours of the day?

I've searched deeply for some saving grace for capitalism but have come up empty handed again and again. Capitalism is devoid of morality when it becomes incorporated, and it is these large corporate entities that run capitalism in this new world economy. When capitalism was first envisioned corporations were illegal in the permanent sense, only allowed to exist for public works until the project concluded (like the railroad). Then lawyers stepped in, found loopholes, and corporations took over. A person can be a moral agent, but a corporation isn't. Yet a corporation has the same rights of a person with none of the moral responsibility. A corporation is self serving and self preserving. It lives only for growth at the expense of people, environment, and anything else that limits it's growth.

So when someone tells me that are true capitalist, I become suspect. They have either bought into the dream with all its propaganda or they are unclear on what capitalism implies. Well, there is one other choice, and that is that they are morally bankrupt believing that to serve the material happiness of a few it is okay to sacrifice the many.

Gandhi started off as a lawyer, albeit not a good one. But after success in South Africa he could have easily gone home to India and perused a private practice based on his popularity. Earlier he had bought into the look, life and indulgences of the British Western life proud to be a citizen of Her Majesty's Rule. But in South Africa he came face to face with the cost to those whose labor secure that life style for the British. One day on a train he opened a book by an English writer, John Ruskin, titled Unto This Last. Gandhi was transfixed, he gave up sleep on that train in order to finish the book. He was so taken with Ruskin's argument against the science on political economics, that he translated the text into his home language Gujarati and distributed to Indians as a way to warn them against the evil of industrialization and capitalism. Gandhi's paraphrase of this work was in such demand it was again translated back to English and available at www.forget-me.net/en/Gandhi/untothislast.pdf
the original text of Ruskin is here.
http://books.google.com/books?id=59UWAAAAYAAJ&printsec=frontcover
From these pages emerges the very concept I'm discussing. Each and every human has a gift to share with the world and should be allowed a comfortable life for that gift. We all have the ability to dig and clean latrines, we all have the ability to work in the kitchen and we're all responsible to see that the children are loved, cared for and taught how to be moral agents in this world. Capitalism in a pure form has never existed for a reason, it is deadly. As the world economy melts down before our own eyes, let us sweep it away and build a new way. It'll be painful for sure, but what's little suffering to the nonviolent soldier that can see what the future could be for their children and grandchildren.

Have a Namaste, and when sitting at the table of life just take what you need, so that your neighbor may eat too.

To Discern and not to Judge

2009-02-16T19:54:00.000-08:00

I participated in a conversation on the Israel/Palestine conflict yesterday. During the course of our dialogue we stumbled against the difference in discerning what is truth versus making a judgment. Merriam-Webster defines discernment as the quality of being able to grasp and comprehend what is obscure. But then who can judge whether someone is truly comprehended something that is obscure. Then we switch to the definition of judgment only to find out that it describes the process of forming an opinion or evaluation by discerning and comparing. The subtle difference seems to be that in judging one concludes with an opinion in that matter, while discernment avoids making the transition into opinion. Judgment can also be made based on beliefs or assertions.

Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh shared a terrific story that helps in dividing these subtle nuances. While nailing on a project in his garden, he left thumb was struck by the hammer. He immediately dropped the hammer in his right hand, then that same hand that had injured the thumb unhesitatingly wrapped its fingers tenderly around the sore limb. He said that even though the left hand knew that the right had been guilty of causing its suffering, it did not avoid the tenderness now shown, nor did it demand to have the hammer so that it might repay in kind the injury done it. The sore thumb discerned the reality of the situation without jumping to judgment or assumption that the injury was intentional or a repayment of a previous grudge held by the right hand for the left.

What does this mean in regards to the Middle East problem? Maybe Israel and Palestine are these two hands, Left and Right respectively, but neither trusting the other. At this present time the Left hand has hit the Right, leaving the bone shattered and exposed. If trust is to ever return to these hands, the Left must drop its hammer and comfort and care for the Right. If the Left can restore health and vitality to the Right, both hands might be able to hold one another, and the world, in a gesture of peace.

Let us end our judgments and begin to heal. May Israel's heart open to its neighbors, providing care, comfort, homes, hospitals, schools, food, medicine and love. If they continue to hit their Right hand with the hammer of hatred soon they will be left with no hand, only a bloody stump. It is their hatred that led to Hamas gaining power. When poor people have no options they turn to gangsters for help, but if Israel had been a caring neighbor to those they had left homeless then the world would be a safer place not only for them but all of us. And for the victor in war to show such care to it's victims would have won the Jewish people the highest of esteem from all people of all religions across the world. They did not, but there may still be time for them to change their ways. If they continue on this brutal trajectory I fear that antisemitism will increase world wide and we don't need to return to that.

May they have the courage to lead the world, showing us that they are capable of real and lasting peace. Because if peace can break out there, peace will be possible everywhere.

For the Love of Physics - Happy Valentines Day

2009-02-14T17:38:00.000-08:00

Most of my friends know that I love Physics, so much so that I ended up with a degree in it. But I'm sure you're wondering why I'd blog on something like my love of Physics on Valentines Day. What could Physics have to do with love. Admittedly, I'm single and home alone, so this may be the result of boredom but bear with me.

Newtonian Physics were straightforward and easy to visualize in my mind. Place some weights and forces on some slides and pulleys, examine the triangles and friction, shake it up with trigonometry and algebra, and suddenly the Whole Universe split open into easy to understand concepts. Every second year Physics student might think, "gee, this stuff is easy". But then we leave the sane macro world easily examined by the five senses and enter a world that can only be intuited through complex and advanced mathematical gymnastics. The human brain becomes the contortionist, bending itself around multiple dimensions of space, where electrons vanish and then reappear without giving away their travel plans. Then enters Heisenberg and his disturbing uncertainty principle. People of science are not comfortable with "uncertainty". He tells us that it is not possible to know both the location and the speed of an object under study because a soon as we attempt to measure one value, the other will become even more uncertain, the certainty with which we can know these values are inversely proportional so if certainty of position is increased then the momentum or speed certainty is decreased. What this suggests, which has become known by the name "observer effect", is that the mere act of observation changes the object being observed. This seems to rise above the physical world and into a world of magic and mist. It's a world that says if I look at you I change you.
Stepping cautiously from the realm of Physics to that of Metaphysics we see a similar concept emerge. Have you ever been sitting in a room of strangers, or on a bus, and felt eyes burrowing into the back of you skull turn to look and find indeed someone looking directly at you? I think most people have experienced this. Even our animal friends seem to be attuned to this phenomena. My cat may be sound asleep next to me, but if I look at her for very long her eyes open and she returns the stare. Remember that moment when you first made eye contact with your love and felt an explosion of butterflies set free from the daisy fields of your root chakra. Buddha instructs us to be our own observer. Do we change under our own gaze? I believe we do. We are much more powerful beings than we give ourselves credit for. Our eyes are more than just windows to the soul, they are doors that we chose to open or close to others. Why is it that when we're wounded and hurting we avert our eyes from others? We know that our eyes will give away our emotions, whether tears are present or not. When I want to make a complicated argument I look away from the eyes of the person I'm talking with so as to not get lost in their reaction to what I'm saying until I've completed the thought, then I immediately seek out their eyes to see if my words have resonated or been lost in translation. When I'm happy and secure I make eye contact with everyone that passes by me but on days when I'm down or distracted by the business of my life, I rarely engage, robbing both myself and others of this gift we all have to share.

As a child and as a mother I know both that look I got when I was trespassing on dangerous grounds and the look I give my own daughter when she does something I don't approve of. I also know the look she gives me when we're connecting and communicating, or the amazing smile she gifts me with when I've acknowledged her great creativity and individualism. By observing one another we change each other. The change may be subtle. Your eyes tell me if you like my look, my new haircut, my clothes, or even my gender and how I present myself. Your mouth may say one thing, but your eyes rarely lie. Each of us, from our earliest moments of life, have accepted these unsaid criticisms from others. We have an image of ourselves as we want to be and search the eyes of others seeking a reflection of that image and when it's not there we alter path, or become depressed.

It is here where science meets religion. Science can't explain why our observation changes the behavior of the observed. Science admits it doesn't know everything there is to know because if it did all scientists would be out of jobs. True religion, likewise, is experiential, a daily deepening into the unknown through prayer and meditation, reflection and contemplation. Extremists claim to know all there is and maybe that's why they're bored and driving the rest of us crazy with their Intelligent Designer, Creation Museum and the promotion of racist wars to hurry God along to Armageddon. But the religious contemplative accepts uncertainty, sits with it, and then smiles at the next person passing by. There is no greater religion or science than that of love. It is my belief that we are one, each of us like a ray from the same shining star, and when we look at each other in love we feel ourselves closer to that whole. We must look for that light in each others eyes. We must also recognize how deeply buried it can become under years of filters like unyielding dogma, abuse, neglect, anger, mistrust and endless other scars and scratches becoming cloudy cataracts over our beautiful lenses. When we see those scars in others, we cannot continue to avert our own light giving gaze, but rather burn through that haze to reflect to them that they truly are a beautiful human being.

So the next time that you pass by me please smile and look me in the eye, even for a brief moment, so that we might reflect to each other the Infinite light of love. And if your bored maybe we can go out for a coffee and talk Physics for awhile.

On that I invite you to enjoy the following Peter Gabriel video, a long time favorite song of mine, In Your Eyes.

An Evening with Parke Burgess

2009-02-14T16:04:00.000-08:00

Join us for another adventure in nonviolence as we welcome author Parke Burgess as our guest speaker. He will discuss his book Our Tragic Flaw, A Case for Nonviolence. For the first time in the history of life, a single species has acquired the means to destroy itself and all other living things on the planet. By most indications—if we ignore what it says but examine what it does—this species seems perversely bent upon its own destruction. This species, of course, is us. How did we come to imperil ourselves? And why do we continue to do so? Is it too late to change course? If not, how can it be done?
The discussion will be followed by a reception where Parke will gladly sign books. $10 donation suggested, but no one turned away for lack of funds. This event is hosted by First Unitarian Peace Action and Peaceforce Oregon.

Time and Place
Date: Friday, February 20, 2009
Time: 7:00pm - 9:00pm
Location: First Unitarian Curch of Portland, Channing Room
Street: 1011 SW 12th Avenue
City: Portland, OR

To learn more about Parke and his book visit OurTragicFlaw.com

World March for Peace and Nonviolence Latest News

2009-01-23T15:03:00.000-08:00

It's official: the World March is coming right down the I-5 corridor from Vancouver, BC, through Washington and Oregon, and into California! See the webpage devoted to PNW developments: http://www.ourtragicflaw.com/convergence/

Parke Burgess is coordinating this effort. Thanks Parke!!

Adventure in Nonviolence this Friday

2009-01-18T20:33:00.000-08:00

Peaceforce Oregon Adventures in Nonviolence Series presents "Joyous Renunciation"

We've made the New Year's resolutions and now we struggle to keep them, dealing with feelings of denying ourselves some pleasure. Gandhi observed 11 vows, as did his followers, that he believed cultivated ahimsa, nonviolence, in their community. His vows were no easier to keep then our resolutions, so how did he do it? He called it "joyous renunciation" and approached each vow by recognizing its liberating power. We will look at his vows and discuss their application to America 2009.

Date: Friday, January 23, 2009
Time: 6:00pm - 8:00pm
Location:Spirit Feathers - Downstairs
Street: 7704 SE 13th (Antique Row in Sellwood Area)

Discussion facilitated by Terri Shofner, trainer for USNPCA in nonviolent conflict intervention.

This is event is free and open to the public. Donations for Nonviolent Peaceforce gladly accepted.

The Winchester Ghosts

2008-12-29T17:34:00.000-08:00

I used to travel to San Jose on a regular basis. On a couple of occasions I took some leisure time to sight see, stopping by the Winchester Mystery House. This house was the home of Sarah Winchester, the widow of gun magnate William Wirt Winchester. After his death and that of her daughter, Sarah moved West and began construction on this grand ol' Victorian home. Construction continued non-stop until her death 38 years later. What's peculiar about this house is that there are stair cases that go nowhere, doors on high floors that open to the outside (and no stairs to the ground), there are false cupboard doors, the number of stairs are mind numbing and that's just a few of the oddities. Why did Sarah continue to build in such a strange and seemingly haphazard way? She believed herself to be haunted by the thousands who had perished by the guns created and manufactured by the Winchester family. She was convinced that this was why her husband had died young and her daughter. She felt that the crazy array of rooms, stairs and doorways would keep the spirits occupied so they would leave her in peace.

Sarah has been on my mind today as I also feel haunted by the innocent souls liberated early from this life by bombs stamped with "Made in the USA". I think continually of the fields littered with the remains of our cluster bombs, water contaminated from our depleted uranium, not to mention the children born with dibilating deformities and cancers from the toxic waste we've left them. My Christmas season ended as US made bombs killed nearly 300 already demoralized citizens of Gaza. This added to the Iraqi and Afghani death tolls. Yes, America the beautiful is responsible, just as the Winchesters were, for countless deaths and endless suffering. Unfortunately there could be no house big enough or convoluted enough to satisfy all the wandering souls killed by US weapons of mass destruction. From our Atomic bombs in Japan to our bunker busters, my mind swoons at the astounding numbers of innocent victims. Over 90% of casualties of conflict today are civilians, not combatants, but even a combatant is a human being, just one that is willing to risk their own life for what they believe in.

My wish is that America, if we trully desire to be a nation under God, quit providing the means for sending so many His way. Let's stop being the arms dealer to the world. Let's instead build schools, hospitals, and utility centers. Let's drop food and medical supplies from our F16s. We have the potential to do so much good in the world - if only we could wake up from this horrible nightmare of empire. Maybe we are all haunted by the spirits and that's why we're afraid to wake up, stop shopping, watching football or whatever you do to stay disengaged from the world and start working for change. It's civilians that are dying, and guess what, you're one too. If we don't stand up for them now, who will stand up for us when our time comes. Tomorrow there are emergency protests all across America - be there. Let your voice be heard.

Beach Side Philosophy

2008-12-26T11:53:00.000-08:00

I enjoyed an early morning stroll by the beach, enjoying the roar of the surf and the sounds of gulls begging the beachfront hotel guests for a bit of their breakfast. The coast of Oregon is not the warm and gentle experience of the Florida beaches but rather a brutal reminder of the cataclysmic beginnings of this land. Remnants of the previous ice age and volcanic activity litter the surf in the form of gigantic moss and barnacle covered rock formations. The waves crash against these formations sending spray and foam reaching high into the sky before raining back down into the chaotic eddy's dancing below. The trees perched perilously along the rugged features of this coast bend genuflect to the great mountain range behind them. There is an ageless battle between earth and sea that resonates deeply within my own soul. This place is about survival but also about death.

On return to my lodging, my eyes landed upon a dark lump in the distance, gulls and a couple smaller birds digging hungrily at it. As I neared I discovered the lump was a fallen comrade of the hordes, a dead pelican. Jagged red flesh exposed beneath matted gray feathers showed the place where the seabirds aided in the decomposition of their flying friend. He had lost his last battle against the sea, the very medium that had given him life and sustenance had taken it from him. Now he would be reclaimed to he bosom, his flesh continuing to soar great heights, reincarnated into the muscle and sinew of other birds.

At first it seemed tragic, one bird devouring another. Yet it is the primordial way, recycling and balancing death with life. Tragedy is the human condition. As we pick the flesh from the bones of our own kind we destroy ourselves. The Israeli's kill their neighbors and rob them of their homes, refugee camps border too many war torn areas, men rape and mutilate women and children mercilessly for no cause they could put words to, internally displaced people roam the countrysides the world over. Iraq, once a proud nation, has been reduced to rubble due to the vanity of another, better armed and more brutal nation. All of our tears, our suffering will one day be washed away, set adrift in the seas or buried deeply beneath new earth. This pain that we gift each other with is empty and meaningless, for we are all doomed to the same fate. Would it not make more sense to comfort one another in our inevitable decay and death rather than to exacerbate our agony? Let's open our eyes and restore balance to our existence. This is the truth of nonviolence. This is my truth as I know it.

The longest night

2008-12-23T06:41:00.000-08:00

Alexa and I are snowed in this solstice. I drove over snowy hills to collect her from her Dad's earlier this evening. It reminded me of the last freak storm in Dec03/Jan04 as I tried to get to a store to get a pregnancy test to confirm my suspicions. Well I did and I was. Now here I sit with an amazingly beautiful and smart four year old girl sleeping next to me. I remember those first thoughts as my mind spun out various future scenarios around the growing life inside me. And yet none of them came even close to this exquisite moment. I tried to convince myself that I wasn't pregnant - I was 37 and more lesbian then straight - so how could that happen, oh yes, I know the answer. It was my last chance and I took it. I wonder where we will be when the next freak snow storm hits. Where ever it is I'm sure that moment will be even more exquisite than I can frame on the canvass of my imagination sitting here now.

There is a bleakness that comes with snow. Much of life's color is suddenly lost. The temperatures drop and a desire to hibernate overtakes the body. Yet there is a beauty in this ghostlike world that pulls me toward the door. I've been donning the snowshoes and taking brisk walks trying to capture my thoughts in photographs. At one point I put the camera into black and white mode just to intensify the harsh softness of this colorless world. We live in stark contrasts - at least until they melt back into one.

I recall another winter as a teenager in Ky. I had missed my monthly calling and fretted that I might be pregnant. My Mother had gotten pregnant as a teen. She painfully reminded me of the life she dreamed, lost in that ill fated moment in the back seat of some Kentucky boys car. My very existence brought suffering for her. At that moment I could imagine no fate worse than pregnancy. In fact, I embraced death as my only true option and friend. I could not simply eradicate my error with an abortion. If I must destroy my own flesh I would do it completely, joining my unborn in the next world. The snow fell and the world became my silent witness as I walked into the woods, contemplating ways of ending this misery. Laden with heavy thought I sat on a fallen tree and stared blindly into the white, tears cold against my cheeks. Movement caught my eye and I looked up to see that I was being watched. A hundred yards away a gray and white she-wolf watched my misery. Her coat full and warm against the cold. As her eyes set upon my own I felt my shame begin to crumble in defeat, wrestled down by an atavistic desire to live. A primitive will was shared, a strength and a love. My eyes drifted to the ground and when I looked up again for my companion she was gone. I walked to where I had seen this winter spirit, and discovered that no paw prints littered the snow. I wiped away tears as I found my way back home with sorrow transformed.

I was not pregnant after all. It turned out that the birth control pills I was taking were the wrong strength for me. And whether or not the magnificent wolf was of this world or just an image from my mind, it matters not for she still comes into focus in my moments of weakness, reminding me of my own inner strength. It would be 20 years before I would experience motherhood. From 17 to 37 and now, sitting in the dark, listening to my daughter's soft and rhythmic breathing at age 42. The stark contrasts of my own life, only nostalgia for a snowy night before the warming sun sets free all the colors, painting from the palette of each unfolding moment.

Thursday Night Adventure at Whitefeather

2008-12-15T20:53:00.000-08:00

When: December 18th, following vegetarian meal which starts at 5:00pm

Where: Whitefeather House - 3315 North Russet Street - one mile west
of I-5 and one block north of North Lombard, behind Sterling Savings Bank, on bus line 75

Artwork by: Hillbilly Artist A Peace of Art a Day http://hillbillyartist.blogspot.com

Impermanence

2008-12-08T12:19:00.000-08:00

A Prince about to be coronated as king, the future Buddha, determined to see what was beyond the gates of his estate He employed a chariot to show him around against the will of his father. On his journey he observed an old man, a very ill man and a corpse. Then he saw an ascetic whose face relayed contentment. As Siddartha contemplated the meaning of what he'd seen he came to realize that we all suffer or at least find life less than perfect, the first of the Noble Truths. The second Truth is that the cause is attachment. The good news can be found in the third and fourth, that we can end our suffering by following the Eightfold path.

The first Noble Truth says that "Life is dukka". Often this is translated as suffering, but closer fit would be unsatisfying or imperfect. Few of us will deny that there is dukka. This dissatisfaction comes from the impermanence of EVERYTHING in this existence. Impermanence is not the flaw, it is the reality. Our attempts to make permanent that which cannot be permanent brings us suffering and unhappiness. It is our thinking that is flawed or at least deluded with regard to reality. All of us will experience illness, aging and ultimately death. We all hope that we won't suffer any illness more threatening than the common cold, nor that we will have to endure too much pain as we age and we always imagine sitting back when we've done all we can in this life and quietly releasing into death. This life is rare so to attach to this scenario can only lead to more dukka. Attachment is two-fold as I think of it. There is clinging or grasping after pleasurable things and thoughts while avoiding those that are not. The middle way is to avoid both and just reside in the moment as it is.

There is a Buddhist practice of meditating on death. The premise being that since death is inevitable a few rehearsals might be in order to help us get it right. It's also a reminder not to identify too strongly with the body. Often in my meditations I visualize myself a sitting corpse or sometimes a skeleton. I remind myself that this body and mind are only dirt and will eventually decay and fail me. Rather than a morbid focus I find this practice very liberating. It relaxes me. It reminds me to relish the itch on my nose, for it will pass with or without my scratching it. The painful veins in my legs may one day provide pathways for grubs as they aid in my decomposition. The pinched nerve in my neck, the nerve damage down my left side that causes an endless itching sensation - all these will fade away, becoming mulch for a new harvest of life. And then I look at my body in a new light. It is chemistry and electricity. It is the most complex measuring tool for my analytical experiments in space and time. Who the observer of these experiments is I'm not entirely sure. But then that is why I'm still just practicing and not yet a Buddha.

Thought does not come out of a vacuum and so it is true of this contemplation of the impermanence of life. There were two occasions recently that brought my mind to focus on this topic. First was my friend Seda's post on Dysphoria (http://silknvoice.blogspot.com/2008/12/dysphoria.html) and all the comments that it generated. No one, especially in our consumerist society, will be completely happy with their body image. But for the transgendered this experience is amplified. It reminded me of how my body image has changed throughout my life. Remembering times when I was thin, ribs prominently defined beneath my skin, and yet I continued to diet and exercise to match some unobtainable picture in my mind. My best friend in high school suffered anorexia to the point that her reproductive system was compromised and she ultimately ended up in the hospital being fed intravenously to save her life. I'm relieved to say I'm way beyond that now. With my shaved head and chemical free face, I feel quite at ease with my body and all it's imperfections, flaws, scars, and now wrinkles. The signs of aging are asserting themselves each morning as I look in the mirror or try to make out the number on my cell phone display when someone calls. I could use modern technology, surgery, makeup and such to try to fit the ideal look for the aging adult (or worse, hold on to some youthful ideal I never achieved in the first place), but I think I already learned that lesson as a young woman. I'm proud of the wrinkles, because they're primarily from smiling. I'm proud of the stretch marks because they remind me of the warmth of pregnancy and that amazing and most intense experience called birth. Each scar holds a memory of a frightened young girl who tried something just a little beyond her capability, but she didn't let it stop her from trying it again later. And some scars were self inflicted, which remind me of how far I've travelled both in this external world as well as inside this host. My time with the body is so brief, so now I take good care of her in the hopes that she will allow me some more experiments in this space and time constrained world. I have great compassion for my body and my mind - they've been through a lot and managed to do way better than just survive.

Life is too short. There are no one way tickets. The second event that started this internal and now external dialog happened Friday night. I was participating in a teleconference for Nonviolent Peaceforce, when I noticed an email from the Unitarian Universalist Peace Action Committee. I assumed it would be about our upcoming meeting. It was, but it also added that a dear friend of so many of us was in recovery from surgery. She had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer and surgery proceeded almost immediately. As soon as she is strong enough chemotherapy will begin in an attempt to kill off the 10% of the tumor that was inoperable. Four years ago her life partner died of this same cancer. My friend has given so much of herself to so many both here in the Portland community and abroad in places like Cuba, Budapest, etc. Now she is surrounded by a large network of friends who are giving their love, time and care, and hoping it will float her through this terrible experience. It's one thing to contemplate our own frailty and imminent death, but when it is a loved one the lesson can be so much harder. We must accept our helplessness while at the same time watching for every opportunity to give care and compassion. We have to maintain our strength and energy so that we can share it when theirs wanes. This is what we do. Humans are made to care for one another. Compassion is our natural state if only we'll let it be. Never deny an opportunity to help another and you will experience the contentment Buddha saw in the face of the ascetic. And when the day arrives when your own body begins to fail, you'll find yourself carried by the love and compassion of others, bringing you full circle.

Cheap Socks - something to kill for?

2008-12-05T05:26:00.000-08:00

I have a friend that participates, with her sisters, each year in the insane "black Friday" shopping fever. I asked her if there were really any deals good enough to get up at dark-thirty in the morning and go stand outside a mega-store filled with cheap Chinese made crap on a day when we should be sleeping in, revelling in our previous days feelings of gratefulness for healthy families, loving homes and full bellies. She told me she did it for the socks. Apparently Wal-Mart puts out a bin filled with socks that are dirt cheap, for which normally civilized women will do battle. They're not the nice warm home-spun woolies needed for the damp world of Portland that we share - no these are just cheap, white athletic socks that her kids will end up wearing for the coming year. So when I heard that a temp employee of Wal-Mart in Long Island NY was trampled to death by the early morning shoppers, while he attempted to open the doors and let them in, I had to wonder when America had decided that cheap socks were more valuable than human life.

As someone who shuns these stores anyway for their terrible impact on local businesses, I struggle to understand why stuff, cheap or not, can have so much power over the American mind. Are we simply controlled by the advertising community? Maybe since I've quit watching TV I'm less susceptible to this disease. I can't even listen to the radio, as soon as a song finishes and a blaring ad begins I have to turn it off. But even I have my reckless spending days where I feel a desire to buy, buy, buy. One of those days will come before Christmas and I'll visit Fred Meyers and find some fun learning toys for my daughter. Or.... maybe this year I'll skip Freddy's, since it's no longer a local NW company, and instead I'll visit the more expensive woman owned toy shop down the street from my home. I don't spend much money at Christmas anyway but what I do spend should support the woman that has made this store her life's journey rather than adding to the coffers of some large corporation in some far off distant land. I'll keep Christmas local this year.

If you find yourself filling a cart in one of those mega-crap-stores this Christmas, please ask yourself who you're really helping in this season of giving. The number of wrapped gifts under the tree is not a sign of success or happiness. Are your children better off because they have the latest Wii games or Dora pogo stick? Jesus, Mohammad, and Gandhi all taught that less is more, that people are what matter, not things. This Christmas light a candle for Jdimytai Damour, the 34 year old Wal-Mart employee and recognize how far America has strayed from the real meaning of this season. As a new year rolls around we might all want to consider this resolution - I will not become an animal with the insatiable appetite for cheap socks, and I refuse to harm my fellow humans in the pursuit of a bargain, keeping in mind that the human suffering caused by our spending habits is not always as obvious as a trampled person on the floor. And turn off the TV and radio - it really helps.

Nonviolence Works - A New Study Confirms What We Already Knew

2008-11-11T18:29:00.000-08:00

I don't usually post other people's work, but this study is important to those who study nonviolence.

http://www.progressive.org/mag/wxap103008.html

Nonviolence Is The Right Choice—It Works

By Amitabh Pal, October 30, 2008

Nonviolent resistance is not only the morally superior choice. It is also twice as effective as the violent variety.

That's the startling and reassuring discovery by Maria Stephan and Erica Chenoweth, who analyzed an astonishing 323 resistance campaigns from 1900 to 2006.

"Our findings show that major nonviolent campaigns have achieved success 53 percent of the time, compared with 26 percent for violent resistance campaigns," the authors note in the journal International Security. (The study is available as a PDF file at http://www.nonviolent-conflict.org)

The result is not that surprising, once you listen to the researchers' reasoning.

"First, a campaign's commitment to nonviolent methods enhances its domestic and international legitimacy and encourages more broad-based participation in the resistance, which translates into increased pressure being brought to bear on the target," they state. "Second, whereas governments easily justify violent counterattacks against armed insurgents, regime violence against nonviolent movements is more likely to backfire against the regime."

In an interesting aside that has relevance for our times, the authors also write that, "Our study does not explicitly compare terrorism to nonviolent resistance, but our argument sheds light on why terrorism has been so unsuccessful."

To their credit, the authors don't gloss over nonviolent campaigns that haven't been successes. They give a clear-eyed assessment of the failure so far of the nonviolent movement in Burma, one of the three detailed case studies in the piece, along with East Timor and the Philippines.

In some sense, the authors have subjected to statistical analysis the notions of Gene Sharp, an influential Boston-based proponent of nonviolent change, someone they cite frequently in the footnotes. In his work, Sharp stresses the practical utility of nonviolence, de-emphasizing the moral aspects of it. He even asserts that for Gandhi, nonviolence was more of a pragmatic tool than a matter of principle, painting a picture that's at variance with much of Gandhian scholarship. In an interview with me in 2006, Sharp declared that he derives his precepts from Gandhi himself.

Gandhi's use of nonviolence "was pure pragmatism," Sharp told me. "At the end of his life, he defends himself. He was accused of holding on to nonviolent means because of his religious belief. He says no. He says, I presented this as a political means of action, and that's what I'm saying today. And it's a misrepresentation to say that I presented this as a purely religious approach. He was very upset about that."

One of the authors of the study, Maria Stephan, is at the International Center on Nonviolent Conflict. The group's founders wrote a related book a few years ago, "A Force More Powerful: A Century of Nonviolent Conflict." Erica Chenoweth is at the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard.

This study is manna for those of us who believe in nonviolent resistance as a method of social change. We don't have to justify it on moral grounds any more. The reason is even simpler now: Nonviolence is much more successful.

Washing the Flag

2008-11-10T18:55:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday I participated in a ritual based on poetry by Mark Prime (AKA Poetryman in the blog world) - don't burn the flag, wash it - and we did. We placed the American flag in a basin of soapy water and as we felt compelled we stepped forward and washed the flag while stating our hopes for this symbol.

I was surprised at the depth of emotion that this simple task evoked in me. As I approached the basin I felt all the years of frustration, embarrassment, anger, shame, and pride. I was working in The Netherlands when we invaded Iraq. One weekend I took the train to Amsterdam for some R&R. While there I was spit at by a group of men of Middle Eastern descent. I quickly learned to keep my American mouth closed - as soon as the accent was heard, eyes would turn my way with suspicion, and even hatred. Before I returned home Bush had already declared victory. It was a ludicrous show of American ignorance. The next morning I saw an elderly American lady sporting her flag shirt and I shook my head in disgust.

I remember when I first realized that this flag was deeply soiled with blood, pain and the repression of budding democracies. I read several sources on the history of our South American brothers and sisters. Over and over again, as the people attempted to organize to control their labor and resources our government would step in with violence, not to help them build their democracy, but to squash it so that large fruit or coffee companies could be assured a huge profit margins. Armed with the knowledge of our history, I never once believed we went to Iraq to give democracy - besides democracy never arrives on a bomb or with torture. Torture, disappearances, mass graves, etc., were not supposed to be attributed to America - but apparently we learned well the lessons of Hitler, Stalin, Saddam, etc. I wonder how much longer it would have been before American citizens began to vanish into the bowels of places like Gitmo, or under the supervision of hired torturers like the Blackwater gang. After watching and hearing testimony from the RNC I felt deep fear about the direction America was going. I was the closest I've ever been to filing papers with Canada or France for a permanent visa.

I've always loved this country. No place else has attempted the amazing social experiment started by our forefathers. In writing the Declaration of Independence, Jefferson assured that the people of this great republic can only be ruled by giving our consent, and if the government becomes destructive in it's power, it is our duty to dismantle it and begin again. November 4th revived my faith in Jefferson's wisdom.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

As my hands touched this symbol my voice trembled. I felt tears well up in my eyes. "My hope is that this symbol will no longer cause fear to those who see it but will stand for hope, justice and mercy".

Yes He Is...

2008-11-05T05:37:00.000-08:00

My President! Damn it feels good to be able to say that again.

Speaking Peace - An Adventure in Nonviolence

2008-10-29T18:33:00.000-07:00

If any of you are in the Portland Oregon area, I'll be giving a workshop tomorrow night, the 30th, in the SE corner of the city. This should be fun. I've just started doing monthly adventures in nonviolence and the interest level is increasing as they continue. I don't have one for November, but on December 18th I'll be looking at Jesus as a nonviolent actor - should be fun.

Thursday October 30th we’ll explore a new language, a language that takes back that power, the language of Nonviolence.

This workshop is based on the work and experience of Marshall Rosenberg and Portland’s own “seriously pissed off granny” Bonnie Tinker.

This workshop is FREE - but donations are greatly appreciated

When: October 30th 7-9pm
Where: Spirit Feathers
7704 SE 13th Ave.
Portland, Oregon 97202

The Golden Rule Rules

2008-10-27T15:20:00.000-07:00

I have made a vow to myself to deepen my understanding of Islam so as to gain more respect for its followers and also to help me better understand its extremists much in the same way as I've been doing with Christianity for the past four months. To begin this journey I started with the animated movie, Mohammad, The Last Prophet. My daughter and I watched it together several times. Today I began reading the book Mohammad by Karen Armstrong. I was reminded again of the fact that much of this religion came from what was seen as the evil of the open market system (there I go using the word evil again - it's getting to be a habit). The Bedhouin's were nomadic tribes out of necessity and as such depended on community - the tribe was the first priority. As Mecca became a market place, indidual needs took over and community values were forgotten. Profit and materialism became more important than people. Those who suffered most were orphans (like Mohammad) and widows and others that were unable to participate in the highly competitive marketplace. The power was becoming concentate in only a few families while poverty increased its numbers. Beginning to sound familiar?

I became more curious about the author and found this TED talk on religion (if you're not familiar with TED please visit ted.org - you'll be glad you did). I'm quickly becoming a fan of Karen. The wisdom shared in this short talk needs to be shared across the globe. Although I've never been in a convent, like her I became very anti-religion, seeing it as the source of so much suffering and destruction to human life. But my own journey into nonviolence has helped me unravel a fallacy in my understanding of religion that she mentions in this talk, a confusion between belief and religion. In the world of NV the Golden Rule Rules! Religion is about going beyond our evolution - to refuse to be controlled by the selfish gene or the fight/flight mechanisms built into us. Once we take our ego out of the equation and place ourselves in service to all others - something changes and the pre-wired responses seem to lose their control over us. The positive side effects of this change of focus include joy in one's work no matter how mundane, joy in caring for our families, joy in participating in civil disobediance to affect positive change for others even at the risk of our own freedom and safety. I used to wonder why Gandhi always seemed so joyful, even when being hauled off to live in Her Majesty's prison system or cleaning latrines, but now I'm beginning to understand. May we all be so lucky as to quit living for ouselves and begin living for one another.

The End of America

2008-10-27T11:31:00.001-07:00

This short film is Naomi Wolf speaking on the 10 step program used by dictators throughout history to close a previously open and democratic society. It's long and even has commercials - sorry - but I felt the content was worth the time.

My ballot is in the mail!!

2008-10-24T12:35:00.000-07:00

Last night, after work, I sat down with my ballot, my laptop and some awesome reggae music in the background for inspiration (and I just love reggae music), and I filled in the ovals, the first one for Obama of course. Then I visited Basic Rights Oregon for guidance on the rest of the candidates and measures. I sealed it in the secrecy envelope, signed the outer one, attached postage and sent it on its way. I've done what I can do. I've sported my Obama/Biden bumper sticker, watched the yard signs sway in the breeze and now all I can do is sit back and see how my fellow citizens weigh in. Being a Gen Xer this is the hard part.

Will our country remain in the gutter of hate that I see espoused at the McCain/Palin rallies or will we finally move forward after 8 years of being stuck in reverse? One of the most disturbing issues is the constant referral to Obama as a Muslim and a terrorist. First off, I know some amazing and loving Muslims. In fact my daughter's last teacher was a Muslim from Iran and I trust her implicitly. She has shown so much respect and love to both me and my daughter. My daughter is no longer in that school since we moved, but Mrs. Sue still calls us to wish us well. None of the white Chirstian teachers do that. She's such a great testimony to her profession and her religion. Would I vote for a Muslim - you bet I would if they stand for justice and freedom.

Where terrorism is concerned, McCain should know better, since he is the one that dropped bombs on innocent villages in Vietnam from a safe distance. Let's be realistic, if a plane dropped bombs on your neighbors and then plummeted into a nearby lake - would you save the pilot? Not only did a man swim out and rescue him, he protected him from his own friends and neighbors whose children and lives had just been destroyed by this white demon from above. If there's a terrorist running for President of the US, that terrorist is J. McCain.

Don't get me wrong, I don't see our troops as terrorists. Most of them really believe the propaganda that they've been fed. They are as much the victims of the great evil of empire as are the Iraqi's, the Afghani's, the Venezuelan's, the Nicaraguan's, the Gueatemalan's, etc, etc... you get the picture. The US military is evil, but not the men that make it up. It's up to each and every soldier to ask themselves the hard questions - are they going to just follow any order like Eichman did for the Nazi's, no matter how immorral - or are they going to stand up for their own soul and sanity. Nonviolence isn't easy, it's not for cowards. But if you're someone who is willing to face death for your ideals by serving in the military, you're no coward, and you are strong enough to stand up for truth. If J. McCain had been a man of integrity he would have refused to kill innocents, he would have become a conscientious objector.

May this be the last election filled with bigotry, ignorance and hatred.

Eyes and Heart Wide Open

2008-10-22T11:18:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday IVAW, PDX Peace and many many more groups dedicated to ending the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, hosted Winter Soldier Northwest (Portland). I went in early to help with set up with the AFSCs real cost of war display "Eyes Wide Open". We placed boots belonging to many dead Oregon soldiers in the social hall of the downtown Unitarian church. As I placed the boots in alphabetical order on the floor my eyes wandered over the names, ages, pictures and sometimes even a personal letter that accompanied the boots. At one point I had to excuse myself from the work to regain my focus and composure. It's hard to fathom the complexity of emotion. Most of these young people joined the military for the benefits, seeing it as an option to move them forward in life, not realizing the full impact that killing another human being would have on their souls. I even wondered if these weren't the lucky ones in comparison to the tortured men whose testimony I was about to witness upstairs. I thought of the years of nightmares, failed marriages, drug dependency and bouts of violence that plagued my Uncle after returning from his Marine duty in Vietnam. He went AWOL - and I'm proud of him for it. He and his first wife hid on a house boat in the Gulf of Mexico. But our government tapped the phones of family members and ultimately caught him. He has survived his experiences and is now a loving husband, father and grandfather of a multi-cultural family. It's hard to know what the owners of these boots might have done if war and violence had not played into their lives.

It didn't end with the empty boots of GIs, but went on to include shoes of dead Iraqi civilians - children included. A young girl of "almost 10" helped me put the Iraqi shoes out around signs on the sidewalks. I saw shoes that would fit my four year old daughter. If it were my child... I can't help but insert myself into the heartache that a mother feels and then I have to multiply it for all those lost in these mindless battles between men. When I read stories from Darfur, Iraq, Afghanistan, Palestine, Mindanao, Sri Lanka and on and on, I don't shut it out, but I grieve with them, a witness to their hell. When I watch my daughter play, laugh, smile I feel such joy and I wish that for all parents. No one should have to live in a battlefield - and it's up to the citizens of this world to stand up and protect each other. I guess that's why I continue to educate people on nonviolence and the work of unarmed civilian peackeeping. It's only one small piece of what will make this world a better place for us all.

When I listened to the testimony of our vets, I realized how important the storytelling is. It reminded me of my own journey through ptsd. I was sexually abused and it took years to get over the nightmares, the manic depression, self-loathing and all that great stuff that accompanies trauma. But what helped me more than any one thing was being able to tell my story. The first time nearly killed me, but now I can talk about it easily. It no longer controls me but has rather become my tool for helping others. Our vets need to tell their stories - over and over again, until they also become tools for healing and helping us all to change our views on violence and war. I think every town in America should welcome their vets home by giving them a venue to speak in. For some it may need to be an anonymous space out in the cyber world - for others a loud speaker will only begin to do justice to the inner voice.

Humans have an enormous capacity for compassion and love. We do not tolerate discomfort easily and most of us try to shut out these painful stories, but to shut them out is to make them stronger. Some people worry that they will be overwhelmed with the sadness - it is overwhelming if you think you can fix it. We can't fix it as individuals, but each of us can bear witness and cry with each other. We can also share our joys. Let's open our eyes and hearts and help each other heal from all this pain.