Every single phrase that meanders through my head in response to this is utterly inadequate. I wish I were an artist and could draw how rich (like deep, fertile soil) this makes me feel and send it to you.
So much here in this one, and so worth taking the extra few minutes of staring at the screen which I'd promised myself I wouldn't do today because of the angry, snarky devolvement I've been wallowing around in online spaces. :)
As usual I'm adding to my reading list, I'm very interested in God is Red now.
Over the past couple of years I've put some work into finding 'my own mythological traditions from the places of my ancestry' but then the question becomes what does one do with the understandings of those traditions? As the elder in your anecdote says "Many of the ancient traditions are basically the same", and so it seems that separatism is counter-productive (not that I'm assuming that's what she was implying). Those of us of anglo or European descent are here, living in this beautiful part of the world, and any mythological tradition we attempt to practice will be indelibly marked by our growing up and living on this land.
I think about how Robin Wall Kimmerer uses native, invasive, and naturalized plants as a metaphor - that while a lot of introduced plants get established in an area and overcome the native vegetation, certain species instead learn to create reciprocal relationships with the indigenous plants, becoming beneficial to the ecosystem.
Ok, I won't take up anymore bandwidth here in your comment section, but thank you for expressing your rage so honestly and, at least from my vantage point, turning it into productive conversation and inspiration.
God is Red is a classic, Clare. And I was really taken how just as I'm really thinking about this stuff, suddenly there it was again, speaking to what I was after right in the opening pages. I love when that happens. I also love that Kimmerer metaphor. Thank you for reminding me.
Thank you for writing this two-parter. I've been thinking about things like this a lot lately (as a White person who doesn't know the specifics of their ancestry but really loves this planet; as an anxious, sometimes angry person who is still figuring out when and where those emotions are helpful or not). What does it mean to meditate if those lessons never translate beyond the altar? Is it enough, as don Miguel Ruiz says in The Four Agreements, to do your best at whatever you're doing, even if that isn't very good on a lot of days? What is the impact of making promises that you may never keep (see Wendell Berry's poem, which feels like a personal call-out some days)? Human'ing is hard and messy.
It really is hard and messy. But Ruiz isn't wrong. What if everyone really did do the best they can all the time, even just when it comes to taking the high road of kindness? What a difference it would make.
Someone further down thread mentions the fury of monks -- which reminded me of Fenton Johnson's book "Keeping Faith." He grew up in Kentucky just outside the walls of Thomas Merton's monastery, and comes back for a Catholic/Zen conference after years of studying at the SF Zen Center & Tassajara. Furious after the death of his partner from AIDS. It's a gorgeous exploration of fury and sorrow and monastic practice.
I've had this quote from the book on my writing wall for years now: "Before all else, we must define ourselves in some place other than our wounds -- to find the courage to define ourselves, rather than let our wounds define us. This is the great challenge, and forgiveness the means through which it is accomplished. Faith incarnates itself not in beliefs, but in acts; not in what I believe about God but in the moment-to-moment decisions I make in choosing how to live this day, how to be one with myself and to love and respect and forgive myself and my neighbor. In this it is a necessary condition for wisdom."
I just ordered that Fenton Johnson book! I love his work; "At the Center of All Beauty" from 2020 really knocked me out. That's a great quote too, particularly this: "Faith incarnates itself not in beliefs, but in acts." Thank you, Charlotte.
I know a lot of Zen teachers who seem to be angry all the time. Just my observation. But whatever works.
The end of the piece is more my thing. I've realized that some people base their decisions on what will aggravate us. In high school I knew young Republicans who joked about being concentration camp guards to get a rise out of people, and now they're all grown up and behaving the same way.
They want attention. I take their hatred seriously but I don't get angry at pathetic people anymore.
A surprising number of noted Zen teachers were alcoholics too, which is depressing. I mean, if THEY can't figure it out....
That's a different story. Alcohol is a scourge.
A final note I think you can appreciate: I've been easing back into the weight room too, which has been enjoyable. Yeah, it's a bro-tastic environment but I'm able to view it in a way I couldn't before; more an amused detachment than irritation. So far, so good.
I will admit to thinking that if you're angry all the time, you may drop dead of a heart attack or stroke before you're quite ready to go. Just saying.
Also mad here, but trying to make peace in my life. With myself, and with others. Although I have many, many issues with Mother Theresa and the Church, I still live by her words, as best I can: "Do small things with great love."
My problem is that I too easily move to the compassion phase and don't linger long enough in the anger/punishment phase. Mother Theresa would praise that (good Catholic girl) and people might call it enlightenment, but it's really a symptom of being an adult child of a rage-a-holic and being a co-dependent. The anger turns inward instead, "I could be more understanding!" So you're not wrong. Distance would help. But also-- I distance myself from the rage. From the anguish. As a way of not-feeling my own. I can be compassionate but not passionate.
As you can see, I need way more therapy and also some screaming into the void. I admire your ire, and I think part of that is a social construct that men are allowed and women are not. I usually turn that ire into really biting editorials. Or really acidic calls to customer service. Charming, no? (Look, I'm shaming myself for being angry even before the ink fucking dries on the page.)
I don't know, or, maybe I do know and I just can't?
I don't know that I am allowed to be angry. I think most people who know me personally would be surprised to know just how constantly seething I am. I am cursed with a loud voice and my emotions tend to go like one of those faucets that emits water in barely a trickle and then a nudge of the handle and its blasting full bore and out of the sink and all over the front of your pants and that is a horrible combination. So I don't feel allowed to let my voice rise even the slightest unless obviously in some kind of good humor because people, even those close to me, freak a little.
But is anyone, really? Anger is an emotion that society seems to want repressed. Like it's a "bad" emotion. Nor do I blame people, because for so many, the association of anger is with violence, and almost always from men. So whether it is allowed or not, dudes just take it and that sucks. My rage is expressed in print, or into a microphone, when expressed at all. The rest of the time it's just swallowed. Along with a lot of pizzas!*
*extra points to anyone who reads this and gets the John Candy/Dewey Oxberger/Stripes reference there at the end. You're welcome.
I think men of color are not allowed to be angry as much as white men, for sure. Angry white men are, like, the fucking thing. Everyone else gets regulated....
And.... I have lost my appetite for giving that any more space. Fuck the fucking angry white man (read: my father/brothers/exhusbands).
I love you and will happily stand here and watch you scream your head off if you want to. <3
Thanks to Hawk and Molly for asking those questions because I've been really wrestling with the same ones - and to you for taking the time and care to share your thoughts and wisdom with the rest of us. I'm printing this one off to sneak in my journal and chew on more slowly.
I've had God Is Red on my reading stack for months (years?). Looks like I need to pick it up.
I've been thinking about my rage lately too. I don't want to live like this, but I also don't want to not live like this either. I had this moment with a pissed off blue bird a few weeks ago. I was just trying to check on her babies, and she kept attacking me. In my head, I asked her why she was so pissed off, and I swear she responded and even in my own head it sounded like yelling, "WHY AREN'T YOU?" So I've been trying to channel her lately, but I like your plan of using that energy in the right direction(s).
Thanks for this, Chris. Such good juice, as we say at our house.
Thank you Chris. I'd like to say "we should go fishing," even if we never "go fishing," because I am getting so weary from typing my relationships and yet, and yet . . . I'm having a low spell myself and I think it may be for some of the same reasons. Solidarity, my friend. Thank you for composing and sharing these thoughts today. <3
Solidarity, indeed. Thing is, I think we WOULD go fishing if we could. Or at least go float in a boat in the center of some body of water and not fish instead, which, honestly, sounds even better.
Chris, reading this, I feel your gracious and generous presence. Your writing calms and informs with a real sense of welcome. I love your clarity. Thank you for so enriching my life.
in my poetry workshops at the prison i always reminded the guys who came that it didn't seem to matter what "culture" we grew up in, men were men, which meant we were pretty much trained in and allowed 2 emotions: anger and none. i began writing at 17 because my emotions just would not go away, but i had no idea whatsoever how to recognize, identify, differentiate and deal with any of them--which made me angry! meanwhile, i'm 71 now and have learned there are different kinds of anger, and some are holy--even prophetic in the classic hebrew sense. the dalai lama also recommends starting w/your own religious/spiritual traditions, which doesn't mean you have to stop there. i've returned to merton and other christian contemplatives, but i also study with pema chodron and cold mountain (aka han shan). i confess, however, i've lost the capacity in recent months to go out among my "fellow" humans without intense, unbearable anxiety and rage. It's partly due to illness, but also to the "stupidity" which is more rampant than any virus. as usual, you've given me a lot to think about and reflect on. thanks!!
Thank you, Wayne. I can totally relate to that public anxiety. Sadly, I think it's cost me a couple friendships too, at least for now, because there are things I just don't want do or be around the people who do them!
Every single phrase that meanders through my head in response to this is utterly inadequate. I wish I were an artist and could draw how rich (like deep, fertile soil) this makes me feel and send it to you.
Thank you, Nia.
So much here in this one, and so worth taking the extra few minutes of staring at the screen which I'd promised myself I wouldn't do today because of the angry, snarky devolvement I've been wallowing around in online spaces. :)
As usual I'm adding to my reading list, I'm very interested in God is Red now.
Over the past couple of years I've put some work into finding 'my own mythological traditions from the places of my ancestry' but then the question becomes what does one do with the understandings of those traditions? As the elder in your anecdote says "Many of the ancient traditions are basically the same", and so it seems that separatism is counter-productive (not that I'm assuming that's what she was implying). Those of us of anglo or European descent are here, living in this beautiful part of the world, and any mythological tradition we attempt to practice will be indelibly marked by our growing up and living on this land.
I think about how Robin Wall Kimmerer uses native, invasive, and naturalized plants as a metaphor - that while a lot of introduced plants get established in an area and overcome the native vegetation, certain species instead learn to create reciprocal relationships with the indigenous plants, becoming beneficial to the ecosystem.
Ok, I won't take up anymore bandwidth here in your comment section, but thank you for expressing your rage so honestly and, at least from my vantage point, turning it into productive conversation and inspiration.
God is Red is a classic, Clare. And I was really taken how just as I'm really thinking about this stuff, suddenly there it was again, speaking to what I was after right in the opening pages. I love when that happens. I also love that Kimmerer metaphor. Thank you for reminding me.
Thank you for writing this two-parter. I've been thinking about things like this a lot lately (as a White person who doesn't know the specifics of their ancestry but really loves this planet; as an anxious, sometimes angry person who is still figuring out when and where those emotions are helpful or not). What does it mean to meditate if those lessons never translate beyond the altar? Is it enough, as don Miguel Ruiz says in The Four Agreements, to do your best at whatever you're doing, even if that isn't very good on a lot of days? What is the impact of making promises that you may never keep (see Wendell Berry's poem, which feels like a personal call-out some days)? Human'ing is hard and messy.
It really is hard and messy. But Ruiz isn't wrong. What if everyone really did do the best they can all the time, even just when it comes to taking the high road of kindness? What a difference it would make.
Damn. As someone who cut ties and is searching for new roots, this fucks me right up.
Fierce grace. My heart felt it.
It is only a little planet, but how beautiful it is.
-- Robinson Jeffers
Great quote. I need to get some Jeffers on my shelf.
Someone further down thread mentions the fury of monks -- which reminded me of Fenton Johnson's book "Keeping Faith." He grew up in Kentucky just outside the walls of Thomas Merton's monastery, and comes back for a Catholic/Zen conference after years of studying at the SF Zen Center & Tassajara. Furious after the death of his partner from AIDS. It's a gorgeous exploration of fury and sorrow and monastic practice.
I've had this quote from the book on my writing wall for years now: "Before all else, we must define ourselves in some place other than our wounds -- to find the courage to define ourselves, rather than let our wounds define us. This is the great challenge, and forgiveness the means through which it is accomplished. Faith incarnates itself not in beliefs, but in acts; not in what I believe about God but in the moment-to-moment decisions I make in choosing how to live this day, how to be one with myself and to love and respect and forgive myself and my neighbor. In this it is a necessary condition for wisdom."
(And I just ordered the Vine Deloria ... )
I just ordered that Fenton Johnson book! I love his work; "At the Center of All Beauty" from 2020 really knocked me out. That's a great quote too, particularly this: "Faith incarnates itself not in beliefs, but in acts." Thank you, Charlotte.
I know a lot of Zen teachers who seem to be angry all the time. Just my observation. But whatever works.
The end of the piece is more my thing. I've realized that some people base their decisions on what will aggravate us. In high school I knew young Republicans who joked about being concentration camp guards to get a rise out of people, and now they're all grown up and behaving the same way.
They want attention. I take their hatred seriously but I don't get angry at pathetic people anymore.
A surprising number of noted Zen teachers were alcoholics too, which is depressing. I mean, if THEY can't figure it out....
That's a different story. Alcohol is a scourge.
A final note I think you can appreciate: I've been easing back into the weight room too, which has been enjoyable. Yeah, it's a bro-tastic environment but I'm able to view it in a way I couldn't before; more an amused detachment than irritation. So far, so good.
Yes. Let rage be precious. More sacred than self- righteous. That's my goal, anyway.
Yes. More sacred than self-righteous. I love that.
Love you, Chris. I am angry all the time too. About the right thing but I worry about being extreme. Thank you for making me think.
Thank you for reading and for the kind words.
I will admit to thinking that if you're angry all the time, you may drop dead of a heart attack or stroke before you're quite ready to go. Just saying.
Also mad here, but trying to make peace in my life. With myself, and with others. Although I have many, many issues with Mother Theresa and the Church, I still live by her words, as best I can: "Do small things with great love."
Making peace with others creates, or even requires, a certain amount of distancing, doesn't it? That's what I've found. I don't know.
My problem is that I too easily move to the compassion phase and don't linger long enough in the anger/punishment phase. Mother Theresa would praise that (good Catholic girl) and people might call it enlightenment, but it's really a symptom of being an adult child of a rage-a-holic and being a co-dependent. The anger turns inward instead, "I could be more understanding!" So you're not wrong. Distance would help. But also-- I distance myself from the rage. From the anguish. As a way of not-feeling my own. I can be compassionate but not passionate.
As you can see, I need way more therapy and also some screaming into the void. I admire your ire, and I think part of that is a social construct that men are allowed and women are not. I usually turn that ire into really biting editorials. Or really acidic calls to customer service. Charming, no? (Look, I'm shaming myself for being angry even before the ink fucking dries on the page.)
I don't know, or, maybe I do know and I just can't?
I don't know that I am allowed to be angry. I think most people who know me personally would be surprised to know just how constantly seething I am. I am cursed with a loud voice and my emotions tend to go like one of those faucets that emits water in barely a trickle and then a nudge of the handle and its blasting full bore and out of the sink and all over the front of your pants and that is a horrible combination. So I don't feel allowed to let my voice rise even the slightest unless obviously in some kind of good humor because people, even those close to me, freak a little.
But is anyone, really? Anger is an emotion that society seems to want repressed. Like it's a "bad" emotion. Nor do I blame people, because for so many, the association of anger is with violence, and almost always from men. So whether it is allowed or not, dudes just take it and that sucks. My rage is expressed in print, or into a microphone, when expressed at all. The rest of the time it's just swallowed. Along with a lot of pizzas!*
*extra points to anyone who reads this and gets the John Candy/Dewey Oxberger/Stripes reference there at the end. You're welcome.
Boom shakalakalaka.
I think men of color are not allowed to be angry as much as white men, for sure. Angry white men are, like, the fucking thing. Everyone else gets regulated....
And.... I have lost my appetite for giving that any more space. Fuck the fucking angry white man (read: my father/brothers/exhusbands).
I love you and will happily stand here and watch you scream your head off if you want to. <3
Thank you. ❤️
Thanks to Hawk and Molly for asking those questions because I've been really wrestling with the same ones - and to you for taking the time and care to share your thoughts and wisdom with the rest of us. I'm printing this one off to sneak in my journal and chew on more slowly.
I've had God Is Red on my reading stack for months (years?). Looks like I need to pick it up.
I've been thinking about my rage lately too. I don't want to live like this, but I also don't want to not live like this either. I had this moment with a pissed off blue bird a few weeks ago. I was just trying to check on her babies, and she kept attacking me. In my head, I asked her why she was so pissed off, and I swear she responded and even in my own head it sounded like yelling, "WHY AREN'T YOU?" So I've been trying to channel her lately, but I like your plan of using that energy in the right direction(s).
Thanks for this, Chris. Such good juice, as we say at our house.
I've read God is Red a couple times but it's been a few years. I intend to revisit it cover-to-cover again soon myself.
Love to you, Chris. Thank you for writing.
Thank you for reading, Suz.
Thank you Chris. I'd like to say "we should go fishing," even if we never "go fishing," because I am getting so weary from typing my relationships and yet, and yet . . . I'm having a low spell myself and I think it may be for some of the same reasons. Solidarity, my friend. Thank you for composing and sharing these thoughts today. <3
Solidarity, indeed. Thing is, I think we WOULD go fishing if we could. Or at least go float in a boat in the center of some body of water and not fish instead, which, honestly, sounds even better.
Floating . . . yes, we would do that for sure.
Chris, reading this, I feel your gracious and generous presence. Your writing calms and informs with a real sense of welcome. I love your clarity. Thank you for so enriching my life.
Thank you, Sheryl. I appreciate that very much, especially knowing how many gifts you have shared with the world.
well said.
Thank you, Julie.
in my poetry workshops at the prison i always reminded the guys who came that it didn't seem to matter what "culture" we grew up in, men were men, which meant we were pretty much trained in and allowed 2 emotions: anger and none. i began writing at 17 because my emotions just would not go away, but i had no idea whatsoever how to recognize, identify, differentiate and deal with any of them--which made me angry! meanwhile, i'm 71 now and have learned there are different kinds of anger, and some are holy--even prophetic in the classic hebrew sense. the dalai lama also recommends starting w/your own religious/spiritual traditions, which doesn't mean you have to stop there. i've returned to merton and other christian contemplatives, but i also study with pema chodron and cold mountain (aka han shan). i confess, however, i've lost the capacity in recent months to go out among my "fellow" humans without intense, unbearable anxiety and rage. It's partly due to illness, but also to the "stupidity" which is more rampant than any virus. as usual, you've given me a lot to think about and reflect on. thanks!!
Thank you, Wayne. I can totally relate to that public anxiety. Sadly, I think it's cost me a couple friendships too, at least for now, because there are things I just don't want do or be around the people who do them!