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A Memory Triggered (and a Reminder to Live Each Day to Its Fullest)

The home page of The New York Times on-line today had photographs and an article about a deadly tornado in Joplin, Missouri.  Reading about the devastation brought the spontaneous emotions of compassion and concern, as we have with all such news.  I was moved to read the article more thoroughly than I might otherwise have done because for a couple of years of my life, I was deeply engaged in a matter that concerned Joplin and traveled there a number of times.

The original intent of the Employee Retirement Income Security Act of 1974 (known by its acronym ERISA)–my legal specialty– was to make sure that if workers were promised a retirement benefit, they would actually get it.  What has happened with the expansion and revisions of the law since is like any complicated matter in a society that is subject to the entanglements of the economics of business and human nature and far beyond the scope of this blog. 

At its most basic level, the ERISA requires that if a company promises to pay workers a certain amount on retirement, they must put money in trust to be able to pay it.  A company in Joplin had promised dozens of workers a retirement starting long before the enactment of ERISA and continued making the promise until the company closed in the late 1980s, but never made any effort to comply with the law when it was enacted.  The family and executives were fine financially when the company closed its doors, but a cadre of mostly pink collar retirees were left with no pension.  I was new to the Department of Labor and still litigating.  I was assigned the case to hold the owners and responsible executives responsible for not properly ensuring in accordance with the legal requirements that the necessary funds had been put in trust to pay the workers’ pensions.  This meant that I had to travel to Missouri to interview witnesses, to take depositions, and to appear in court.

One trip required a deposition in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  To save money and time for the government, I simultaneously scheduled interviews with witnesses in Joplin, which is about a two-hour drive east of Tulsa.  On that trip, an attorney junior to me was attending so that he could start learning with someone there to observe him.  My plane to Oklahoma was delayed by over 24-hours–first massive thunderstorms in DC; then, the bankruptcy of Transworld Airlines, which stopped flights while I was waiting for the new flight after the original had been cancelled due to weather.  Instead of arriving in Tulsa the night before, I got there at 10:30 am the day of the deposition, which had been scheduled to start at 9:30.  The defendants refused to wait and bullied the extremely nervous junior attorney into starting without me.  He muddled along and then I finished when I got there, although the defendents certainly had created an atmosphere of antagonism that is not really necessary.  (The best lawyers I know treat everyone involved in a case with courtesy, respect, and friendliness, with the recognition that each one has a duty to best represent the interest of his or her client.)

While the deposition was pending, one of the attorneys who was based in Missouri got a telephone call that the judge had ruled on the defendants’ motion for summary judgment–a filing that asks the court to rule that as a matter of law, there is no way that the other side can win regardless of what facts might come out.  This was before email and cell phone, etc., so we had to wait to find out what was in the ruling.  During the course of the day, the defendants threatened to go after the government for costs if we continued the deposition because they were so certain that they had won.  It was a long and challenging day, but we persisted.

At the end of the work day, we got into our rental car and drove from Tulsa to Joplin.  It is flat, open land–tornado country.  There had been afternoon thunderstorms with towering clouds and breaks of sun and blue.  Even though we were as tired as one might expect from this story, we managed to enjoy the roadtrip aspect, spinning the am radio dial at every song to find one we thought worth hearing.  As we neared the end of our trip (getting ready to check into the Ramada on the highway amidst the strip malls and fast food joints that had put out of business all the small family-owned shops with any charm in the downtown), we saw an enormous and full rainbow light up the sky.  One end was right in Joplin.

When we checked in, we were handed the decision of the court, which a co-worker had faxed to us.  We had prevailed on all counts; the case on behalf of the retirees could continue (not long after, we settled for as much as could have been gotten at trial because of the ruling).  That was almost 20 years ago, but I still remember the feeling that at the end of the rainbow was the small pot of gold for those workers.  Many of them were already in their 70s and older in 1992, and those that are living are truly getting on in years.  I hope they are ok.

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    Robber Barons v. Philanthropists (a memory triggered by reading the 1994 New Yorker article on SYDA Yoga)

    When I was in eighth grade, my history teacher, Mr. B,  assigned to the class engaging in a debate as to whether Rockefeller, Carnegie, and Mellon were philanthropists or robber barons.  We were put in teams and told which side we had to argue.  When we were given the assignment, I went to Mr. B privately and said it was not possible to argue one side or the other.  These men were only able to be philanthropists at their level of giving because of the money they had made as robber barons.  My teacher said that was an unacceptable position.  I was to argue the position I was assigned, I was wrong that it was not an either or debate.  I should understand that what was critical to this debate was which aspect was the elemental identifying characteristic.

    Where I think was our real difference of opinion was that Mr. B thought that one could/should not recognize both enormous evil and enormous good in the same person.  If one was evil, then the good was essentially irrelevant.  If one had done tremendous good, then it should not matter if there was bad along the way.  I tend to see the whole.  I take the good where I find it (for example, I have found great truth and utility in the writings of Swamis Muktananda and Chidvilasananda although I would not recognize either as my “guru”), but do not expect the “bad” to be absent or non-coexistent with the “good” and tend to be outspoken in my recognition of both.  I still sometimes get in trouble for this.

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    Food is the link between self and spirit (Taittreya Upanishad and the Yoga of Eating Part III)

    The Self in man and in the sun are one./  Those who understand this see through the world/ And go beyond the various sheaths/ Of being to realize the unity of life./ Those who realize that all life is one/ Are at home everywhere and see themselves / In all beings.  They sing in wonder:/ ‘I am the food of life, I am, I am;/ I eat the food of life, I eat, I eat./ I link food and water, I link, I link./ I am the first-born in the universe;/ Older than the gods, I am immortal./ Who shares food with the hungry protects me;/ Who shares it not with them is consumed by me./ I am this world and I consume this world./ They who understand this understand life.’  Taittreya Upanishad, 10.5, trans. Eknath Eswaren.

    As one who is immersed in the joy of growing, selecting, creating, and tasting food and studying and practicing yoga, it is no suprise that the Taittreya Upanishad (which Eknath Eswaren subtitles “From Food to Joy”) is one of my favorite readings.

    The Taittreya Upanishad explains the five sheaths or koshas that make up the self — the food body, the energy body, the mind body, the intuitive body, and the bliss body.  What we take in with our senses and what makes us flesh and blood can, with right observance and practice, lead us to a consciousness of self as joy and spirit embodied.  This is the yoga of eating and of food.

    For more details on the Taittreya Upanishad, please see Jon Janaka’s article, “I am the Food!”

    Other sources:

    Upanishads, trans. Patrick Olivelle (Oxford World Classics 1996)

    The Upanishads, translated for the modern reader by Eknath Eswaren (Nilgiri Press 8th Printing 2000)

    The Ten Principal Upanishads, put into English by Shree Purohit Swami and Wm. Butler Yeats (Faber and Faber, London, Reprinted 1952)

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    Advance Medical Directive (aka Living Will)

    This week I drafted, and today signed along with two witnesses, a living will.  It has been on my “to do” list for a good 20 years, and I have been carrying in my wallet a card from the Society for the Right to Die (which no longer appears to exist) saying that I have a living will in my possession.  Two things led me to get it done at this time.  The first is my deeply held belief that privileging hospice is an important and mostly missing element of the health care debate.  The second was witnessing a dear friend have the last few months of her life being attached to machines and receiving ever more painful medical intervention even with end stage cancer.  I know that is not what I want.

    This society gives you the medical care, though, whether you want it or not, if you do not say something loudly, clearly, and with technically the right jargon.  I could not wait any longer.  I did the research, drafted the document, spoke to my family and friends, and finally did it.  It is hard to do.  I am still anxious that I did not do it right or that in the end, should it come where the living will would be necessary, my wishes will not be honored.  It is hard to think about death, illness, and accident.  It is scary to approach legal documents that are so fraught with political and religious weight (a friend cautioned me to make sure I have lots of copies because of his experience of a nurse, who because of her religious doctrine, repeatedly “lost” copies of  his mother’s directives when she was dying from advanced Altzheimer’s.)

    The yoga helps me think about these things with some measure of equanimity.  I have even heard teachers say that the whole reason for a steady practice is to be prepared for death and dying, so that we can go peacefully, comfortable with both our life and our death.  Part of the yoga off the mat, in this regard, is recognizing how society is likely to behave, and what we need to do to be healthy within the confines of society.

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