Remembering Who We Are

Sadako Sasaki with origami crane, Children's Peace Monument, Hiroshima, Japan

Sadako Sasaki, the girl of 1,000 cranes

 

It has been 80 years since the US Atomic bombing on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan that killed and injured collectively over 200,000 people while impacting countless lives, too, of Indigenous and Latine people in the southwest, near Los Alamos, New Mexico and more people, animals, plants, minerals in the Pacific Islands due to nuclear testing resulting in long-term health issues, displacement, economic and emotional distress impacting life and health to this day.

like many, i am connected to and love two cultures: i am the descendant and citizen whose government bombed and destroyed lives of children, elders, schools, hospitals, homes, animals, plants, trees, food sources in Hiroshima and Nagasaki where my ancestors farmed the land and relatives continue to live and thrive today. i am also a descendant of incarcerated Japanese American citizens imprisoned for four years in the arid desert of the southwest and isolation of eastern northern California during WWII by my government. I know i can hold the complexity of our critical race history; because of my practice, i am buoyant and capable of tending to multiple catastrophes with heart mind of fierce tenderness and compassion. 

if our commitment is to be present while holding complexities of history and catastrophes of current time, we have to be aware of our bodies. when we are in touch and intimate with our bodies, we are deeply in touch with our feelings, thoughts and perceptions, we can remember to be rooted and stable with integrity, stability, wholeheartedness.  

one morning i began to ponder how language is used to oppress us and asked myself; who controls the narrative when culture imposes how and when we can and can't use words to express what we feel deep in our bodies?

i first noticed how the state controls language as a young child.  when my parents used the government's words to describe "we were interned", that was during "evacuation", when they were "relocated to camp" to let my siblings and me know they were incarcerated, imprisoned, separated from their home, friends, and livelihood. Even as a 10 year old, i knew in my heart it was more than relocation, a voice inside cried, they were in American concentration camps! in our country! against our people! it pierced a hole in my heart.

pondering turned to interrogating. when we utter the word "genocide" or "apartheid," who holds the keys to the locks that make us stumble, pause, bind, swerve, recoil, or cringe? i ask, who controls the power of words that describe how and what we feel and know in our bodies from the pierces on our hearts? 

a practice to remember who i am:

~ as i walk slowly meeting my breath in silence, i am aware how my feet caress the earth, i hear the rustling of birds in the trees. 

be still, walk in silence, listen.

what rises in stillness?  

~my inner voice says: 

honor those who lost their lives in the past and those vulnerable right now, reckon with the tangible and intangible weapons, the destruction we are capable of. acknowledge weapons continue to rain on Gaza, through bombs, bullets and forced starvation, they rain on Sudan, Haiti, Myanmar/Burma too. 

to remember who i am is to take responsibility and listen to the inner voice, and bear witness, and reduce the possibility of harm in my home, community, and as a citizen of the world through my thoughts, words, and and how i act and don't act. 

in my heart, the state has become perpetrator, imprisoning refugees and migrants, kidnapping neighbors, harassing and intimidating children at school, disappearing people off the streets without due process-  there's a reason i feel sick, there's a reason it feels familiar, we are repeating history. 

when crimes against humanity are occurring, some of us press an internal mute button. for me it's a familiar coping strategy, to hold back the felt sense of injustice and silence myself. i'm working to liberate myself from pressing mute. my heart tells me crimes against humanity are happening right now in our country, from our government. 

we are witnessing the degradation of the rule of law, cruel policies through executive orders, terror and imprisonment impacting brown and black bodies. we can feel it in the wisdom of our bodies when we stop, listen and feel.

this is the definition of human rights abuse to me (to harm, deny, ignore fundamental human rights). i know these truths in my body.  knowing these truths does not negate the suffering of other people on other lands. we know we are all connected, there is no real separation. 

practices to help us remember who we are: 

1) honor the truth of what's happening, the wisdom of a gut feeling, tension in the body while witnessing stories and images of people suffering. 

2)be in touch with the earth, look up and gaze at the night sky, ground yourself with a slow in-breath and out-breath, commune with a tree, a field, a lake. stay long enough to know the earth is our relative and that we are becoming ancestors. 

3) listen to the sound of a calming bell, or a drum re-connect you with reverberation of the present moment.

4) remember our love is invincible, limitless, unconditional.* 

from a place of stability of breath, grounded in body and our deep knowing of what is going on, we will know how to take wise action, how to help those in need, how to resist, how to reinforce our deep commitment to community, to knowing we are. we are not separate from each other, we can love without boundaries. we have clarity to act with allegiance to each other. 

i believe we can hold the complexities of our critical histories and it's up to us to remember, not mute or tune out. it's our responsibility to use our skillful means, Upaya (Sanskrit) to see clearly, to act wisely, to listen more deeply. 

listening to our bodies and naming what's happening- crimes against humanity, human rights abuses, genocide- is the first step.  For change to take place, we need to see clearly what's happening, take good care of our hearts, to grieve and mourn the heavy losses taking place.

 To be of service is to see and meet the suffering of the world, a world so in need of love and care.  

from time to time wake up at dawn, offer gratitude to the sun and the moon, the clouds, write a haiku to celebrate the season. write a note to Sadako.

"From time to time, 

the clouds give rest

to the moon's beholders." ~Basho

photo of Sadako Sasaki, the girl who made 1,000 origami cranes with hope to realize her wish to survive radiation poisoning from the atomic bomb, the cause of leukemia. 

Notes: 

I am grateful for summer reading and listening sources: 

Book: To Save and To Destroy Writing As An Other by Viet Thanh Nguyen

Video: The Long Shadow of War, Intergenerational Grief and Narrative Justice,  with Linda Thai and Jungwan Kim https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nBAMHELawQ

"do the things that help you to remember who you are instead of the things that cause you to forget who you are" -Linda Thai, a healing presentation on how war impacts us descendants, generations later and how group rituals can help us heal.  

* inspiration from Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh

acknowledging the mud of our times

Enso by Kaz Tanahashi

 hello community circle,

dear friends who read my blog, please do not lose heart. you are needed, loved, felt, seen, and heard. we are here together. we are here for each other.  we are not alone. may these words replenish your compassionate heart. 

the other day at our sangha (a Buddhist community gathering), i shared a piece of inspiration that carried me through the early covid months, the murder of George Floyd, anti-Asian attacks, and police brutality of Black and Brown people. i didn’t realize it was an excerpt from a full letter addressed to "a young activist during troubled times". it’s about hope, it’s about acknowledging the mud of our times, and to quote, His Holiness the Dalai Lama, to “never give up. no matter what is going on.” 

 deep love and encouragement call us forward once again today. 

Bows to Clarissa Pinkola Estès, Ph.D.

with boundless love and gratitude 💛🪷

here’s the full letter~~~

To a Young Activist During Troubled Times

Mis estimados queridos, My Esteemed Ones:

Do not lose heart. We were made for these times.

I have heard from so many recently who are deeply and properly bewildered. They are concerned about the state of affairs in our world right now. It is true, one has to have strong cojones and ovarios to withstand much of what passes for “good” in our culture today. Abject disregard of what the soul finds most precious and irreplaceable and the corruption of principled ideals have become, in some large societal arenas, “the new normal,” the grotesquerie of the week.

It is hard to say which one of the current egregious matters has rocked people’s worlds and beliefs more. Ours is a time of almost daily jaw-dropping astonishment and often righteous rage over the latest degradations of what matters most to civilized, visionary people.

…You are right in your assessments. The lustre and hubris some have aspired to while endorsing acts so heinous against children, elders, everyday people, the poor, the unguarded, the helpless, is breathtaking.

Yet … I urge you, ask you, gentle you, to please not spend your spirit dry by bewailing these difficult times. Especially do not lose hope. Most particularly because, the fact is – we were made for these times.

Yes. For years, we have been learning, practicing, been in training for and just waiting to meet on this exact plain of engagement. I cannot tell you often enough that we are definitely the leaders we have been waiting for, and that we have been raised, since childhood, for this time precisely.

…I grew up on the Great Lakes and recognize a seaworthy vessel when I see one. Regarding awakened souls, there have never been more able crafts in the waters than there are right now across the world. And they are fully provisioned and able to signal one another as never before in the history of humankind.

I would like to take your hands for a moment and assure you that you are built well for these times. Despite your stints of doubt, your frustrations in arighting all that needs change right now, or even feeling you have lost the map entirely, you are not without resource, you are not alone.

Look out over the prow; there are millions of boats of righteous souls on the waters with you. In your deepest bones, you have always known this is so.

Even though your veneers may shiver from every wave in this stormy roil, I assure you that the long timbers composing your prow and rudder come from a forest greater. That long-grained lumber is known to withstand storms, to hold together, to hold its own, and to advance, regardless.

… We have been in training for a dark time such as this, since the day we assented to come to Earth. For many decades, worldwide, souls just like us have been felled and left for dead in so many ways over and over — brought down by naiveté, by lack of love, by suddenly realizing one deadly thing or another, by not realizing something else soon enough, by being ambushed and assaulted by various cultural and personal shocks in the extreme.

We all have a heritage and history of being gutted, and yet remember this especially … we have also, of necessity, perfected the knack of resurrection.

Over and over again we have been the living proof that that which has been exiled, lost, or foundered – can be restored to life again. This is as true and sturdy a prognosis for the destroyed worlds around us as it was for our own once mortally wounded selves.

…Though we are not invulnerable, our risibility supports us to laugh in the face of cynics who say “fat chance,” and “management before mercy,” and other evidences of complete absence of soul sense. This, and our having been ‘to Hell and back’ on at least one momentous occasion, makes us seasoned vessels for certain. Even if you do not feel that you are, you are.

Even if your puny little ego wants to contest the enormity of your soul, the smaller self can never for long subordinate the larger Self. In matters of death and rebirth, you have surpassed the benchmarks many times. Believe the evidence of any one of your past testings and trials. Here it is: Are you still standing? The answer is, Yes! (And no adverbs like “barely” are allowed here). If you are still standing, ragged flags or no, you are able. Thus, you have passed the bar. And even raised it. You are seaworthy.

…In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. Do not make yourself ill with overwhelm. There is a tendency too to fall into being weakened by perseverating on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails.

We are needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear. Didn’t you say you were a believer? Didn’t you say you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn’t you ask for grace? Don’t you remember that to be in grace means to submit to the Voice greater? You have all the resource you need to ride any wave, to surface from any trough.

…In the language of aviators and sailors, ours is to sail forward now, all balls out. Understand the paradox: If you study the physics of a waterspout, you will see that the outer vortex whirls far more rapidly than the inner one. To calm the storm means to quiet the outer layer, to cause it, by whatever countervailing means, to swirl much less, to more evenly match the velocity of the inner, far less volatile core – till whatever has been lifted into such a vicious funnel falls back to Earth, lays down, is peaceable again.

One of the most important steps you can take to help calm the storm is to not allow yourself to be taken in a flurry of overwrought emotion or despair – thereby accidentally contributing to the swale and the swirl. Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach.

Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely.

It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good. What is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts – adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take “everyone on Earth” to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale.

…One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times.

The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires … causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these – to be fierce and to show mercy toward others, both — are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

…There will always be times in the midst of “success right around the corner, but as yet still unseen” when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it; I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate.

The reason is this: In my uttermost bones I know something, as do you. It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours: They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here.

In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But … that is not what great ships are built for.

…This comes with much love and prayer that you remember Who you came from, and why you came to this beautiful, needful Earth.

CODA

The original title is Letter To A Young Activist During Troubled Times: with the subtitle, Do Not Lose Heart, We were Made for These Times. This is the original letter in full as written, unabridged.

Do Not Lose Heart, We Were Made for These Times ©2001, 2016, by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D.

a letter to memory keepers, storytellers and dreamers

i was introduced to the book, in love and trust, letters from a  Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh, and while reading the first pages my connection to love letter writing was re-ignited. it feels like writer and reader are holding hands, holding a gaze.  

love letter writing is a way to convey, connect and express a life-moment, to remember this might be the only letter i write to this person or the last letter they might receive from me. i hope my words are met, received as a gift, with love, care, understanding.  recognizing that teachings arise from writing and reading love letters, the most meaningful are vulnerable where the giver and receiver are not two, not separate. they Interare.

i hold on to the possibility that a teacher, student, ancestor might read this letter. what do i wish to convey?  i enjoy practicing this way to remind myself: who might be present to witness these thoughts, learnings, leanings, perspective and aspiration? if this is my only message, what is the most important thing? 

please read as a kind of meditation for yourself, take breaths in-between the images and music. linger.

                                    (one breath)

A song: Little Blue by Jacob Collier. (little blue as breath)

little blue, be my shelter, be my cradle, be my womb, be my boat, be my river, be the stillness of the moon.

 you're not so far away, i hear you say, you'll never walk alone

singing, don't be afraid of the dark, in your heart, you're gonna find a way to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, 

you're gonna find a way home...

little blue how i love you, something strong, something true. in your arms so dear and gentle, there's a hope that leads me back to you. 

cuz you're not so far away, i hear you say, you'll never walk alone. 

you're gonna find a way home.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQvzX0Z3HE4

(two breaths)

dear memory keepers, storytellers, poets and dreamers, 

As the state tries to scrub and erase our histories from public spaces, websites, libraries, institutions, branches of the military, universities even- we memory keepers protect our stories through art, music, language. We nourish our true inheritance- steadfast, abiding breath,  noble upright posture and steps,  courageous pulsating hearts.  Like determined warriors, we cast our jeweled net of Indra* far and wide, leaving out no one, we carry an indestructible energy and deep aspiration to cut through illusion, to see what's real and true, and act to ease suffering. 

Our bones and blood hold the cells of memory of our ancestors wildest dreams. tears, labor,  and sweat literally built the institutions now threatened. We are here in this moment, awakened from the illusion of our separateness* and determined we will not be defined or carried away by cruelty and callousness. Deep down we know our real enemies aren't people, they are fear, greed and delusion. 

We are gardeners, tending the gardens of our hearts who labored to build upon a dream, we believe in justice, freedom from oppression (liberty defined) and know there is much hard work, hardship ahead to defend our right to exist. We come from generations of gardener ancestors tending the gardens and fields of this country-many arrived from lands with a deep desire to build something better who took tremendous journeys to begin anew. 

The memory keeper inside and outside continues to encourage full heart, not shallow or petty; to see and hear clearly, not distorted or clouded by disinformation or lies, to be open to practice fearlessness in spite of sometimes being afraid. 

The storyteller in me will continue to live in and tell the truth even when it feels difficult. 

The dreamer in me will listen more closely to the dreams and visions held at arms length by my colonized mind. The dreamer in me knows that dreams are the marrow where wisdom and compassion reside. 

The poet in me is being called back to my true nature by the scent of ancestral hinoki  (cedar) forests where sky is breath, earth is body, sun is heart. 

I am a citizen of a nation in peril. 

I am a citizen of a nation experiencing a slide, collapse, contraction.

I vow to cherish the memory keeper, storyteller, poet and dreamer. May we continue to flourish. 

(three breaths and a bow)

with love and an entrusting heart, dear memory keepers, storytellers, poets and dreamers, 

🙏🏽🌕🪷

We are here to awaken from our illusion of separateness   ~Thich Nhat Hanh

* net of Indra-a Hindu and Buddhist metaphor of an infinite net with jewels at each intersection, reflecting all other jewels symbolizing interconnection and interdependence of all phenomena.