Homecoming

I am home. I opened the door for someone, they passed through and said, “Thank you.” Yes. This is Iowa City. I am back from a trip to the South, but it might have been pretty much anywhere where people do not know me. In the outside world, diversity seems much more of an issue than it is here. I have let my hair grow long, something that evidently is not as well accepted in parts of the outside world.

As I walked down the street of a "foreign" town an African American gentleman whispered, “Can’t tell him from a goddamn girl.” It was uttered indistinctly, more like a spit or hiss than a sentence. But the message was very clear. “You are not welcome here. We do not like people like you. We do not really know you, but we know enough about people who look like you to say that we do not like you. Accept our ways and be like us or leave.

Later, I was getting a cup of coffee at a gas station. I offered an elderly white man, a lid for his cup of coffee. He pushed my lid aside and took another. As I was leaving, I held the door open for another older white gentleman. He would not meet my eyes and went in a different door.

It felt like this was due to the fact that I have long hair and a beard. I feel like I am back in the 1960’s. Yet as I read this I see that I am guilty of the same prejudice I see in others. Why was it important for me to mention the race and age of those I felt were discriminating against me? Clearly, I am not free of prejudice. Perhaps no one is totally free. Perhaps it is unreasonable to expect to live in such a world.

Luckily, saving the world is not my job. I need only try to be kind. This works for me. Even when I notice the differences between us I can try to overlook those that disturb me. I can make an effort to treat you as I would be treated; to treat you with respect. Why is this so difficult? It may be because we evolved to use discrimination for our survival. Determining tribal membership was vital when we were still wandering the plains of the Serengeti. Make a mistake and you could be dinner. Perhaps we still live in such a world. The rage between our racial, political, social, economic and religious tribes seems stronger than it has in a very long time.

Hopefully, we will tire of this soon and realize that in the end there is but one tribe. It is called the Earth. Our land is this “tiny blue dot” we live on and share with all the other life we know. Even more broadly, there may be but one tribe within all the universes that now exist or that ever have existed. I can add to the kindness and joy of this tribe or detract from it. The choice is mine.

Maybe I will shave my head and cut off my beard the next time I travel out of Iowa City. I can do this much to reduce the chances of creating unease in others and encountering their prejudice. But what of those who encounter prejudice because of their skin color, size, intelligence, abilities or other more permanent features? They cannot change their color, suddenly grow a new limb or become more intelligent. I cannot imagine the challenges they face. In fact, I cannot say I truly understand the challenges and prejudice anyone else faces. Thankfully, I don’t need to. I can continue the practice of kindness without such knowledge. This is enough.

On second thought, I think I will let my hair grow so long that I can sit on it. Then when I travel outside of my town, I can wear long robes and carry a staff (and of course wear my sunglasses). Perhaps those who bear prejudice will think twice when presented with such an image. Or perhaps they will beat me silly. In either case it will simply be yet another chapter in what has already been an interesting and wonderful life. Whatever is left after the beating will either continue the wonder of this life or release its resources to be used by others. Regardless, life and its wonder will continue. At least that is how it seems to me. Other’s views may be different. In the end, differing views are not important. What is important is that I not be distracted by differences, no matter how long my hair, the color of my skin or my lack of wisdom and “common sense”.

Clearing My Brain

The brain goes where it will. Yesterday a man appeared who I had not seen before. He shared that he had been sober 27 years. There was no reason for me to doubt his word, but something about the way he said it made me wonder if it were true. He shared that he knew God’s will for him was to help drunks. He said this as if he were on a great mission.

I too have thought this. I no longer do. I do not know what “god” is – there are so many definitions it is impossible for me to find a consistent view. Even if I was sure who god was, the only way I would know his will is if he were to communicate it to me. There have been times when I was certain god was talking directly to me. As it turns out these were very dangerous times, times when I was so into my “vision” that I overlooked the beauty of life, times when family and friends did not exist – the only important thing was my communication with god.

When I am “communicating with god”, seeing a vision, or accepting a great mission, I have no way of telling if I am experiencing a hallucination or having a revelation. I don’t deny anyone else the right to have visions or “talk” with god. I wish them well. So long as they do not insist that I join them on their journey or they do not prevent me from following my own path we can live in peace.

Life is beautiful. Life is precious. Life is real. I no longer need, nor can I safely indulge in visions of god or a precise definition of god’s will. Simple kindness is enough for me. More than enough. I have yet to exhaust its potential for bringing me peace.

For me, kindness requires no vision. Kindness requires no interpretation or special training – only continual practice with a heart that seeks to be honest, open and willing to change. I study kindness by cleaning the toilet at the gas station. I understand kindness when I open up and let others hold me, hug me and love me. I practice kindness when I turn aside other’s requirement that I pick up their fear, hatred and judgment in order to belong to their clan, tribe or church. I master kindness when I recognize that I cannot practice it perfectly, that for me there is no perfect kindness; only a simple plan of trying to be kind to the next person, place or thing I encounter.

I destroy my practice of kindness when I make it exclusive to “drunks” or any other group, including my family. If I try to practice kindness only in special cases or with particular people I begin to experience judgment and fear – the things destroy any joy I may find in life. But that is my path, and as it has often been said and is well documented: I am insane.