When Devon and I stepped out of our cabins on December 23rd we expected to meet a world in overdrive. That's how it always feels, after all, when you go from a cabin in the woods to the wilderness of our post-factual dreamscape.

And yet . . .

There is something about this historical moment that feels DIFFERENT.

Just like there was something about the historical moment that began November 9, 2016 that was different.

And the historical moment that began in mid-March 2020.

I don't think I need to sketch the details. You know the details.

The question for me has become: how do I maintain genuine stability in the midst of this ongoing American Horror Story.

The answer is elastic: it depends on the moment.

Still, one teaching I have been leaning into these days is the Three Tenets of the Zen Peacemakers.

1. Not-Knowing
2. Bearing Witness
3. Taking Action

Roshi Egyoku Nakao describes not-knowing as "a flash of openness." For example, I am currently afraid that there will be violence in state capitols around the US on January 20th. Images of car bombs exploding burst, uninvited, in my mind. However, at this moment I am sitting in the living room. What is vivid, ravishingly present, is the Calathea on the coffee table. Just this. Right now. Only. And I have absolutely no idea what will happen . . . even in the next breath.

(For a more thorough treatment of the three tenets by Roshi Egyoku and others click here.)

Still, there is suffering. Right now there is suffering. There is suffering in my own heart, and it needs tending. There is immeasurable suffering and pain and sorrow in the world, and I am called to hold it all with care. If I am to stay an alive and responsive and even joyful being, I must bear witness to the fullness of this being alive, in all its pain and complexity. This bearing witness might take the form of deeply hearing stories of truth and reconciliation, as Bishop Desmond Tutu did in South Africa after Apartheid. Or it could be the simple act of morning meditation, fully opening to the inner and outer world . . . as is.

(Joy is also really important. This song has been bringing us joy.)

Finally, taking action. Action that arises from not-knowing and bearing witness. Action, perhaps, that radiates from stillness, from this space of witness; that's guided by and carries a meditative intent, and therefore is fluid, dynamic, workable, responsive, and not snagged in calcified opinions. Action is giving your money away, remembering the ancestors, honoring MLK, teaching your kids about the Freedom Riders, writing your senator, making a cup of tea with full awareness, dismantling white supremacy in your own heart and mind, and on and on. There is no limit to action. And there is no limit to the not-knowing and bearing witness from which that action arises.

So this is my practice these days. To return. And then return again. To not-know, bear witness, and take action. Then to bear witness some more, and not know, and take action again. Moment to moment. Because all we have are moments. And day by day. Because these days are so very precious. May we make good use of this once and present life.

Sending many good wishes,
nico*

p.s. After these two back-to-back blogs I’ll be settling into my usual 2x per month posts . . .

*in case you missed this whole business of the name change, click here to get the update.