At first glance, th e exhortation to love all and serve all (Ram Das has said Neem Karoli Baba gave him advice like that) may seem unreasonable and perhaps impossible.
But the exhortation to love doesn’t require liking all or associating with all or tolerating the behavior of all.
And serving all does not mean doing so without boundaries. Sometimes a thoughtful refusal or a limit on giving others what they ask for is the highest service we can offer.
I saw this beautiful roll of chicken wire in the Enid Haupt garden when I was walking back to the office after a quick visit to see the Gods of Angkor exhibit at the Sackler Gallery (sorry about the absence of links; blogging from the BB).
I was first introduced to the idea of “found poetry” in junior high school and have developed a life-long habit of photographing words to change, enhance, and/or question their meaning and hidden beauty by the act of extracting them from their original place and presenting them as a photograph. Marcel Duchamp and others did what poets and photographers were doing with words with ordinary objects by presenting them as sculpture.
Here, where I have photographed the chicken wire roll, is the art a sculpture (because I could treat it as such) of which I have taken a photograph–the photograph being mere documentation? Is the art the photograph of what I have seen to the extent I am offering it as a vision and a dialogue generated by what I saw? Or is the photograph merely a snapshot taken with a hand-held computer device documenting an object that happened to be sitting there–not art at all? If it were not for artists such as Duchamp, could I or would I even be able to ask this question?
I think that analogous types of questions have been and can be asked about the variety of religious and mystical experience. Is there a particular way they must be experienced? Do such experiences have to fit within a prescribed framework to be valid? When are such experiences madness or delusion and when are they the voice of the spirit? Who gets to decide? Does it depend on the era and the culture in which the experiencer lives? Does the answer to any of these questions matter if the experiences lead one to a more loving, compassionate, and beauty-filled life?
As I read the news stories of the “failure” of the world champion gymnast who merely came in third and therefore could not continue to compete because each country can only send two gymnasts to the medal competition (that’s the basic gist, though I might not have it quite right), I thought of what a friend had recently said about yoga.
“What I like about yoga,” he said, “is that it is not about competition, but just about doing it for its own sake.”
“Right,” I replied. “The only prize is enlightenment, and if you are doing it for the ‘prize’ you are still not fully doing yoga.”
What an extraordinary achievement it is just to be in the Olympics. And yet those who have none of the skills or talent or drive or fortune to compete feel free to call anything other than a medal a disappointment, a failure, a let down of team and country and family. Perhaps a little yoga would help give perspective.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Sign asks, “how can white people be better allies? Share your ideas to your neighbors.”
