PRACTICING PRESENCE AND SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY

Martin Luther King

I was going to continue to develop the theme of practicing presence that I began last time but, considering the current social climate in our world, and lest I be accused (or even thought of) as being a naval gazer and spiritual bypasser whose primary intention is to shut out the world in order to feel good, I need to reflect on the intention of living in the here and now. 

What’s the purpose of our commitment to personal development? Why do we meditate, or otherwise spend our time in training our bodies and minds to be calm and present? Is it strictly for our own well-being, spiritual insight or physical health and fitness? 

What’s my responsibility to be a contributing member of my community, my country, my world? What part does contemplation  and the practice of presence play in the struggles that face us all? 

What better place to start reflecting on these questions than with Tommy Douglas’s definition of fascism. You remember T.C. Douglas. Yes? The mild mannered minister from Saskatchewan with the impish sense of humour. You know, the premier of Saskatchewan who introduced universal health care to Canada and later was the MP for Nanaimo-Cowichan-the Islands and the first leader of the federal NDP. Not to mention the winner of the CBC survey “The Greatest Canadian”.

But I digress, Tommy Douglas’s definition of fascism: 

It need not wear a brown shirt or a green shirt – it may even wear a dress shirt. Fascism begins the moment a ruling class, fearing the people may use their political democracy to gain economic democracy, begins to destroy political democracy in order to retain its power and special privilege.

In our current vocabulary, “the privileged” equals the ruling class: those with special privilege. The phrase “social equality” could be added to “economic democracy”. The privileged include more than the rich, or the so-called elites, they are me and – forgive me, probably you.  And as Tommy Douglas infers, fascism is simply the defensive, self-serving reaction of the privileged to obstruct or even ignore the attempts of the excluded and the disadvantaged in their aspirations toward equality. 

So, what can we contribute if we want to resist that reaction and commit ourselves to make our contribution toward social equality? 

It seems to me the first task is to acknowledge our privilege, and then, from that perspective, undertake to become an ally. 

What is an ally? An ally of what, to whom? The answers are complex and evolving. I’d say, joining with those who are on a sustained quest for social change toward equality and fairness in the name of humanity’s survival.  

So, I circle back to considering the purpose and possible contributions of the practice of presence to this quest – and to standing with the disadvantaged. This is my humble contribution to the conversation about becoming an ally. 

Again, does the pursuit of individual peace and well-being have anything to contribute to the work for social equality and peace? I’m hoping you’d guess that I insist yes, the practice of presence has a positive, even vital role to play. Mostly because there are pitfalls that often overtake the passionate, committed activist. 

Thomas Merton, the contemplative monk, in his book Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander identifies the things that can lead to overwhelm and paralysis and end in wasted effort:

There is a pervasive form of contemporary violence to which the idealist most easily succumbs: activism and overwork. The rush and pressure of modern life are a form, perhaps the most common form, of its innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence. The frenzy of our activism neutralizes our work for peace. It destroys our own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of our own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.

Even though Merton’s words have meaning for our hyper-busy, distracted culture, it’s important to mention they were written in 1966. 

Of course resistance to change is not necessarily violent, coercive or even intentional. It would be difficult to effect real change if the privileged remain entrenched in the most insidious of reactions:  indifference and apathy. 

Love, compassion, and tolerance are necessities, not luxuries. Without them, humanity cannot survive.  

Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama

We, the privileged who have a desire for real change in the world can become activists in our own way 

We can contribute compassion, tolerance and I might add, vulnerability and empathy to the conversation. They are indispensable ingredients if we are to overcome the many scourges that plague us:  

If we attempt to act and do things for others or for the world without deepening our own self understanding, our own freedom, integrity, and capacity to love, we will not have anything to give to others. We will communicate nothing but the contagion of our own obsessions, our aggressiveness, our own ego-centered ambitions.

Thomas Merton

Self-understanding that leads to wisdom begins as a tiny spark in the heart that is gently fanned into a flame through the practice of turning inward with love and attention. The diligent practice of quieting the mind and developing deep concentration, calm and awareness of the present moment grows compassion and insight into the interconnectedness of all life. Ideally, the connections that arise from our body, speech and mind reveal what has meaning in our lives. In that way, we will learn when to act – and when to rest – and so fulfill our obligation to be responsible people in our time.  One never knows when a tiny act or gesture will have significant and wonderful consequences. 

I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear: knowing what must be done does away with fear. 

Rosa Parks