_True Wisdom_

A wealthy merchant asked Lieh Tzu: “If a man studied widely and remembered much, would you call him wise ?” “No,” replied Lieh Tzu

“If a man possessed great courage, would you call him wise ?” the merchant asked. “No,” replied Lieh Tzu.

“If a man always abided by the highest standards of morality, would you call him wise ?” the merchant asked. “No,” Lieh Tzu replied.

“If a man were good at adapting himself to the times and circumstances in which he found himself, would you call him wise ?” the merchant asked. “No,” replied Lieh Tzu.

“So who would you call wise ?” the merchant asked. Lieh Tzu replied : “There is a ruler in the west who is wise. He does not govern, yet there is no disorder. He does not speak, yet people trust him. He tries not to change things, yet his influence prevails. He is so wise that none of his people give him a name.”

———

Everything is what it should be. This doesn’t mean a passive detachment from circumstances and events of life but a natural detachment from all our thoughts, speech and actions. Only then can true wisdom arise and right action follow.

But maybe economic class is a kind of overarching thing within which all the other systems operate. But we could say that same thing about patriarchy, too, no?

And I think it’s one that deserves a lot of rigorous, serious, open-minded, active inquiry. Almost like a koan! :) We’ve been studying it in a marxist-feminist community class I’m a part of. Patriarchy obviously predates capitalism, but the mode(s) of class struggle and political economy at a given historical moment also fundamentally shape the manifestations of patriarchy (and gender oppression more broadly) in that time.

For me, personally, since I spent a lot of time in college steeped in a postmodern/identity-politics kind of feminism, it’s been very helpful, refreshing, and balancing to look more deeply into dialectical materialism, or the idea that material systems like economies and empires *produce* and *condition* thought, not the other way around. On the day-to-day, of course, a lot of it comes down to context and individuals. Very messy and flexible, and super important in terms of what kinds of cultures we are cultivating. But in terms of movement frameworks and root causes, I’m finding it really useful to think about these shifting micro-oppressions in terms of larger historical processes, which seem to ultimately come down to who has the property and the guns (or gunmen) to protect it, and who does not. Or does no particular group/class own property?

But again, that could just be the region of the koan I’m living in right now.

@Seanna, man, I am so glad you exist! :) Thank you for sharing some of your experience and insight. I wish I knew folks in Chicago to send your way, but maybe if you start looking systematically you could come across some, and start your own radical sangha! Looks like so far we got Bay Area, Seattle, Chicago, somewhere in Canada (Derek)….

I so enjoyed your post. Having a long history of running in radical circles as well as practicing Zen Buddhism for just over 8 years … I enjoyed the challenge to embrace both as I seek to further integrate Zen practice and Radical praxis (e.g. direct action).

I can’t say that it has been easy; Zen has demanded a great deal of my energy and focus over these last years. I felt that I had to reject my radical past and move into a different way of perceiving the world (not recommended). Nevertheless, I wanted to give the “Zen” viewpoint a try for a while to see how it played out.

Compassion is such a loaded word. I feel that when we use the notion of “compassion” to repress what we are really feeling, or to control other people’s behaviors, we’re lost. My experience is that when we are really empty, we can actually move from, or embody compassion without giving it much thought.

The more I sat, the more I could see that my radical actions were motivated by mixed motivations: the desire to alleviate suffering and while simultaneously separating myself as someone “better” or more special than the rest of the world that was too busy to care. I didn’t want to be ordinary; I found it distasteful, “other.”

So I sought the spiritual identity, and filled myself up with that, failing to realize that who I was, despite my delusions of grandeur, was totally fine, and was in fact, spiritual. If just breathing is spiritual, then why not standing in front of a judge after being arrested in a direct action also, spiritual? What is not the One?

Even relativism is held within the one—(what is not held?). There are things we can do that take us away from understanding, things I do, that make me feel out of tune. So often, in radical circles there is this elementary understanding of freedom, and acting from that place. One friend calls it, “The freedom to be stupid,” to get drunk, f*ck whoever you want, smash car windows. It’s a misunderstanding of freedom without understanding karma— is what you are doing helping or hurting anyone? Is it helping you? What am I avoiding?

4. Root vs. Radical. Who says they are opposed? My work on the mat has informed my work in how to frame and work within the world. I’ve seen how dualism fuels my suffering and that of others. A critique of capitalism and having an understanding about the implications of dualism are not oppositional. Why create more problems?

5. Buddhotopia. It doesn’t exist. We are all struggling. (I am) the struggle.

Many of us flock to Buddhism because we hope for something better; something outside the corruptness, sexism and abuses that have taken place in Christianity. Because we are unsatisfied with the teachings we have gotten at Temple (or enter your story here…)

But groovy ideas and even ‘enlightenment’ will never save us. Religious institutions are run by humans, who tend to make mistakes, even a Religious leader, with ‘certified’ enlightened status, can make horrible mistakes that hurt people.

I’ve had this experience of radical politics as a competing religion. Because I was forced to step outside of myself, which actually helped me get rid of the chip on my shoulder that I was carrying around for so many years, I wondered if what we do in Radical politics/action is effective. Perhaps, we should be accountable not just to each other in our cloistered community, but to the whole world. I’ve questioned if our direct actions, destruction of property, or other by any means necessary type tactics was prompting the change that we desired, or just bringing us more unwanted attention? Were we just thrill-seekers, adrenaline junkies, teenagers having temper tantrums? What provides meaningful, sustainable change? To challenge our tactics directly, from within the community as I’ve done, comes with a price, usually anger, fueled by almost religious conviction.

It’s for the reasons of sustainability; I’ve become more interested and supportive of community organizing tactics in the last 10 years, Saul Alinsky style. But hell, I’m from Chicago; it’s what we do here.

Thanks again for your thought provoking post. If you know anyone in Chicago that’s thinking along the same lines, send ‘em my way…

I think I agree completely with all you say about class. It gets confusing and difficult to navigate because the systems that oppress are not just outside forces. They are so deeply embedded within us. But because of this, I feel like doing the internal work and the work toward true diversity within a community is a big part of uprooting and dismantling the system. I don’t want to discount that work, because it’s completely necessary. But I agree that it’s a good idea to start naming it and placing it in the context of challenging the overall structures.

The place where I am still stuck, though, is this: “there’s a key difference between pushing suffering away (or lacking compassion) as a marginalized person, and pushing it away as a member of the upper or ruling class, or one of its arms.”

And I think where I’m stuck is that I think the majority of people are not completely in either category, maybe because I’m not just thinking of one simple measure, like economic class. I think whether you are oppressor or oppressed depends entirely on the context, which is constantly changing. But maybe economic class is a kind of overarching thing within which all the other systems operate. But we could say that same thing about patriarchy, too, no? Hmmmm…..

I’ve noticed in these comments that several people use “monk” and “monastic” as interchangable terms, but nuns are not included in the term “monk.” It concerns me, for example, to talk about “monk’s” activism when that work was actually done by monks and nuns/women living as nuns but being denied ordination because their gender. Personally, I prefer “monastic” because it’s non-gendered, though ordaining currently requires a person to identify as either male or female (which is a whole issue to unpack in some other conversation). Anyway, quick reminder not to forget nuns when we discuss monastics, and not to ignore the incredible work of Tibetan nuns and Vietnamese nuns in some of the movements mentioned above.

I’m in the Bay and go to EBMC (generally Alphabet Sangha on Wednesdays). I’d love to talk, sit, maybe start up some radical Buddhist community?

Take care,

~katie

It’s definitely not true that targets of systemic oppression are (a) themselves innocent of oppressing others, or (b) automatically skilled at offering compassion to themselves and their own situation. Quite the opposite. And I think this lack of compassionate solidarity (and self-love) severely weakens the potential for social transformation on a structural level, because all these different marginalized groups are continually undermining ourselves and each other.

So I agree that compassion is a vital element for healing these rifts of self and of other, but again, I don’t think it’s enough.

Because the way I see it, there’s a key difference between pushing suffering away (or lacking compassion) as a marginalized person, and pushing it away as a member of the upper or ruling class, or one of its arms. The former might result in the reproduction of individual, limited oppression and suffering, like within a family, relationship, or community. The latter tends to support more systemic oppression, i.e. trying to squeeze more productivity out of fewer workers for less pay, or brutally cracking down on strikes as a police officer.

And these differences in the consequences of our compassion, or lack of compassion, trace their origins to class power differentials.

Plus, even if someone with a lot of class power also has strong compassion, oftentimes they’re obligated by forces greater than them to carry out certain oppressive actions. One example might be a judge who, even though they personally oppose capital punishment, presides over a trial that ends up sentencing someone (probably a Black man) to death.

So while we address challenges of strengthening compassion within diverse, multicultural communities, I’m just hoping we can name these structural inequalities and class differences, and explore the effects they have on the consequences of turning toward or away from suffering. Particularly in a movement-building context: that is, diverse communities not only for the sake of diversity or even inclusion, but for also the sake of bolstering capacities a serious challenge to the systems that govern our lives.

I don’t think we disagree here, but I just wanted to tease it out a little more, for the sake of the online convo, which has been really helpful and encouraging to me. Thanks again for your contributions!

Ok, enough with the comment thread, I’m bout to email you. :)

I’ve been thinking about what you said above: “I think where the compassion piece gets hard for me is the notion that everyone in that audience has some kind of choice between being “willing to look directly at suffering” versus pushing it away. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I think that while that message might be appropriate for people whose lives are somewhat sheltered from oppression, it erases the experiences of people who live each day acutely aware of the suffering caused by structural oppression, because we and/or our loved ones are direct targets.”

Everyone, no matter how much we suffer, is capable of closing their hearts to the suffering of both self and others. I know plenty of people who are targets of oppression in one sphere who turn around and oppress others in some other sphere. And also people who are targets of oppression who are so filled with self hatred that there’s no room for compassion for themselves or others. Whether we are completely sheltered from oppression, or completely aware of it because it’s so present in our lives, or somewhere in between, I am guessing that the vast majority of us have plenty of areas where we could open our eyes more to suffering, and bring more compassion.

I’m working a lot lately with the challenges inherent in creating truly multicultural communities, diverse in race, class, gender, sexuality, abilities, etc. It requires that we ALL think of ourselves as both being allies and asking for allies — with so much diversity, it’s complex, it’s not just a one way street, where one group is oppressed and the other has privilege. It requires a LOT of compassion for self and other, to keep listening, keep learning, and to hold the vision of omitting none and remember that we don’t always know how to do that, so we have to keep the question open.

Just a few thoughts, and would love to talk more! Thanks for provoking discussion and creating a space for it here.

Max

Through the internet-trail-of-breadcrumbs thing, I found your post “Dangers of Compassion”.
As a non-denominational, non-buddhist person, I really appreciated the honesty of your post.

I would get exactly the same feeling, years ago, every saturday afternoon at a particular 12-step meeting I used to go to. Finally, my stomach hurt so much, one day, that I had to stop, and try to listen to what my stomach was trying to tell me: that it was detecting bullshit. A bullshit-o-meter, if you will.

In all walks of life, there seems to be a place for those I affectionately call the rascal-gurus, those folks who can entertain as they instruct, but I do wonder if they have a profound interest in helping those in real need. The rolling-up-the-sleeves bit.

I want to say, respectfully to all religions & practices, that we can’t just wish it, or pray it, away. The world needs positive and compassionate action.

Thanks & best of luck–

Michael