New Blog: Observations and Reflections</h1> <article> <h1>New Blog: Observations and Reflections</h1> <p>mpm — Fri, 23 Nov 2012 19:33:07 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/new-blog-observations-and-reflections" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p>I've been a blogger consistently almost 10 years now. That's a long time - longer than most bloggers have been around. I have had a lot of different blogs, too. In 2005, I actually had 3 blogs going: a regular blog, a technology blog, and a ministry blog. I retired the ministry blog when I left seminary, and retired the technology blog last year, and replaced it with an author blog, which I write in now and again. But I felt like I wanted a place to write a bit more deeply, to delve into the issues of the day in a balanced, reflective, and sometimes spiritual way. So I decided to re-launch <a href="http://metacentricities.com">Metacentricities</a>. The word metacenter, which means, in a literal sense: "The point of intersection between a vertical line through the center of buoyancy of a floating body such as a ship and a vertical line." But I think of it in a bigger way - Meta - meaning "about" and "center" meaning the core - I'm talking about what's deep, what's important.Anyway,<a href="http://metacentricities.com"> check it out</a>. I hope to blog at least once a week.</p> </div></div></div><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-1 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-inline clearfix view-mode-full view-mode-full"><h2 class="field-label">Blog Category: </h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/2">Blogroll</a></li></ul></section><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="" data-related=":" data-text="New Blog: Observations and Reflections" data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/new-blog-observations-and-reflections" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/new-blog-observations-and-reflections" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> <article> <h1>The End of an Era</h1> <p>mpm — Mon, 08 Oct 2012 22:37:50 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/end-era" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p>I moved to Oakland in September of 2008, for a number of reasons. Some were very clear to me, others didn't become clear until years later. I'd learned a little about Oakland in my 18 months in seminary in Berkeley, from forays to Oakland for hanging out, events and the White Horse, of course. I met Ruth in Oakland - she is a long-time Oaklander.</p> <p></p><p>Being in Oakland for four years was formative, transformative, and healing emotionally and spiritually. Sadly, it turned out that it wasn't at all healing physically, but I'll get to that later. In Oakland I was finally able to live into all of who I am - this queer, black, quirky, intellectual, web geek, theologian-monk, scientist, science fiction fan and writer</p> <p></p><p>Of course, I've always been (or at least, for a long time) all of those things. But it has been in Oakland that I really could see with my own eyes, and get to know a lot of people who were "in my tribe"--that is being black, and choosing to be "alternative" (crunchy-spiritual/queer/hippie/punk.) I finally wasn't alone anymore! Being black and intellectual was easy--I grew up with that. But the culture I grew up in is different than the culture I adopted in my early twenties, and for the first time, I got to be among many others who'd made that same choice--or something like it.</p> <p></p><p>An example: One of the first weeks I was here, I remember going to Farmer Joe's on Fruitvale, and walking by a black lesbian couple getting out of their Prius. And they had Birkenstocks on--or were they Keens? Anyway, you get the drift. And then I walked into the store to see this black lesbian who was way more pierced and tattooed that I could ever imagine being (and I have my fair share of both.) And there were even more people in the store that day who seemed like they were "like me." I felt like in a way I was "home." And subsequent trips to the supermarket, farmer's market, and events cemented that understanding. It's not that I couldn't be all of these things in Western Mass. But in Western Mass, I know of fewer total people "like me" than were in that Farmer Joe's that one day. And somehow, knowing that, being in Oakland opened up the possibilities. I mean, in what other place would I feel pretty normal getting the mohawk haircut I sported recently? And in what other place would it seem ho-hum to the barber? And, in what other place would there be barbers in the black community that are friendly to lesbians who like masculine haircuts? (Not that this is universal in Oakland, but it is not uncommon.)</p> <p></p><p>And, I could partake in some really cool spiritual communities that could not exist anywhere else but Oakland. Communities that fed my soul in untold ways. Oakland is where I finally got to sit in meditation with other queer Buddhists of color (<a href="http://www.eastbaymeditation.org/">EBMC</a>), after years of sitting (and even then, from only occasional offerings) with queer groups who were largely, or entirely white *or* people of color, who were largely, or entirely straight. Oakland is where I got to be deeply involved in a progressive, queer-friendly, Christian spiritual community that defies Martin Luther King's statement about "Sunday being the most segregated day of the week." (<a href="http://firstoakland.org">FCCO</a>) Oakland is where I got to be a part of justice-seeking communities that try (and largely succeed) to cross racial and class lines (<a href="http://seminaryofthestreet.org">SOTS</a> &<a href="http://sharefirst.org"> SFO</a>.) Oakland is where I got to live in a great intentional spiritual community, WORSHP house.</p> <p>In these last four years, I've matured as a person, my spiritual practice has matured, and I've matured as a writer. I've come to understand better my calling in the world, my reasons for living. I am a better person leaving Oakland than I was when I moved there. But being in the city took its physical and psychological toll on me. The daily grind of just being around so many people, the noise (cars, sirens, helicopters, angry people yelling outside of the house), the perceptions of danger (two murders in a week within a block of the house), and the stress of living among so many people who are in varied states of distress and suffering eventually just became too much for me to stand. I got emotionally stressed and physically ill, and the only thing that's keeping me well is not being in the city.</p> <p></p><p>I've never been much of a city person, really. Although I grew up in NY suburbs, I spent every summer from when I was six to fifteen outside of the city in nature. I chose a college that was in rural Vermont, and I did live in the suburbs of Cleveland, OH for six years, but followed that up with two years in northern, rural-ish Colorado, and almost eighteen years in Western Massachusetts. I'm sort of surprised, in retrospect, that I lasted as long as I did, but I think it was indeed the community that did it for me</p> <p>I'm very sad that I don't get to have both the close to nature quiet that I seem to require, and the community, too--but somehow, that's just not the way this country is organized. For a variety of historical reasons, the rural parts of the US are largely white (and in some cases latino), except for the south (where I could never live for the obvious reasons, along with hating humid heat.) I don't quite know why there aren't well-integrated enclaves including plenty of hippie/queer blacks in rural Northern California, but there aren't (you'd think that if any state had them, California would.) So, I get to be one of a few among many again--a role that is not always comfortable, but is at least very familiar</p> <p>Oakland will always remain in my heart. I'll always be interested in the state and progress of Oakland, even when I'm not living there, and I expect to be in town regularly. I still love Oakland, all of what it is, and what I can imagine it becoming. It is, of course, like most cities, troubled, and it has a long way to go. But it has so much going for it, and so many dedicated people who care deeply about it, and work to make it a better place. I won't be one of them, but I'll be rooting for Oakland always.</p> <p>And, I hope my Oaklander and SF friends looking for space and time out of the city will visit, wherever we end up.</p> </div></div></div><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-1 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-inline clearfix view-mode-full view-mode-full"><h2 class="field-label">Blog Category: </h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/18">Personal</a></li></ul></section><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="" data-related=":" data-text="The End of an Era" data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/end-era" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/end-era" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> <article> <h1>This. Country. Is. Crazy.</h1> <p>mpm — Tue, 14 Aug 2012 03:18:06 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/country-crazy" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p>Yesterday, I'm sitting in my room in Oakland, and I hear a series of gunshots very close to my house. I look out of the windows, but don't see much. The police block off the street, and apparently, someone was at least gravely injured, but I haven't heard details. But of course, this was only one of many incidents of gun violence, in Oakland, in Californai, and in the United States. </p> <p>The US has the highest rate of gun violence of any industrialized western nation, and also, by far the most lenient gun regulations. The evidence is incontrovertable: <a href="http://www.hsph.harvard.edu/research/hicrc/firearms-research/guns-and-death/index.html">where there are more guns, there is more gun violence</a>. This is true by country, as well as comparing states within the US. Of course, it shouldn't take a Ph.D., a tenure-track job, and a grant to tell you that. </p> <p>But here's the crazy part. Even given the number and publicity of mass shootings in the US, people still <a href="http://www.gallup.com/poll/145526/Gallup-Review-Public-Opinion-Context-Tucson-Shootings.aspx">mostly don't really like gun control</a>. In fact, only 29% of people surveyed most recently think that we should ban the possesion of handguns. 29%. Remember, you don't shoot deer or ducks with handguns. Handguns are <strong><em>only</em></strong> used to shoot other people. </p> <p>So what is it? Why is it that more than 2/3 of people think it should be OK for people to own something whose only purpose is to injure or kill other people? <em>Why is this at all sane? </em>And given that political reality, nothing is going to be done. Obama has been <a href="http://www.latimes.com/news/politics/la-pn-romney-obama-duck-and-dodge-on-gun-control-20120725,0,3405237.story">pretty lukewarm</a> about the whole thing, and I won't even bother to talk about what Romney said. Some states where there is more public support for strict gun laws, have them (and have less gun violence as a result.) But nothing really is going to happen at the federal level with the lack of support for strong gun laws than is currently present in the US.</p> <p>What is it going to take for us to move away from a culture of violence, where it seems sane to own guns, sane to make them, and sane to sell them?</p> <p>One of my favorite science fiction writers, Marion Zimmer Bradley, in her Darkover series, had a unique, and I think intelligent answer to all of this. There was a rule about weapons, and that rule was that you only could have weapons that put you in as much risk of injury as the person you were attacking. Short swords and knives only. And pretty much everyone carried them, and trained how to use them. No bows, and no projectile weapons. </p> <p>I guess if we have to admit that human beings are violent, then perhaps that's the best answer. It seems (almost) sane. But the current state of the US in terms of guns and gun laws is not.</p> </div></div></div><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-1 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-inline clearfix view-mode-full view-mode-full"><h2 class="field-label">Blog Category: </h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/1">America</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/taxonomy/term/17">Oakland</a></li><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/5">Current Affairs</a></li></ul></section><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="" data-related=":" data-text="This. Country. Is. Crazy." data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/country-crazy" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/country-crazy" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> <article> <h1>Beasts of the Southern Wild</h1> <p>mpm — Sat, 28 Jul 2012 19:10:14 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/beasts-southern-wild" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p style="text-align: left;">I don't usually review movies on my blog, but here's a second in a row. I think if I'd seen a more balanced set of views on this movie before I saw it, I'd not bother to write this (then again, I probably would not have bothered to see the film.) So first, let me get some things out of the way. The cinematography of the film was indeed spectacular, as was the acting of the all-novice cast, especially and particularly the performance of<font face="arial, verdana, helvetica, sans-serif" size="3"> </font>Quvenzhané Wallis, whose 6-year old capacity was <strong><em>simply amazing</em></strong>. I do hope that this film is the beginning of a long and fruitful career for her, if that's what she wants to do with her life. If that was all that I was going to judge the movie on, it definitely deserves all of the accolades and awards it has gotten. Perhaps that is what most people judge the movie on. </p> <p style="text-align: left;"><strong>Spoiler Alert: If you haven't seen the film, and plan to, you might not want to read any further.</strong></p> <p style="text-align: left;">But the core story of the movie is deeply flawed. If you strip away the cinematography, magical realism, and amazing acting, what's left is a grim, grimy, sad, traumatic catastrophe of a childhood, twisted by the filmmaker into somehow a noble experience. It was like watching child abuse happen in real time. Hushpuppy is neglected, physically abused, bullied, and given alcohol. Oh, what fun! Obviously, her resilience and capacity given her experience is extraordinary, but should that be the point of the film? You watch lives shaped by deep injustice, and the feeling that is foisted on you is one of "yes, she's a plucky kid, a noble survivor of a terrible situation, and those plucky people choose their fate," rather than what you should really feel, which is "why on earth in this country of extraordinary wealth do we allow people live in situations like that?"</p> <p style="text-align: left;">Yes, there are real choices made by the characters in this film, but they aren't choices that they should have to make--they are the choices dealt to them by an injust society. Yes, they chose to stay in their incredibly vulnerable housing during a hurricane (theoretically Katrina, or something a lot like it,) and they choose to leave the evacuation center to go back home. But were those <em>really</em> choices, or just being impoverished and in danger at home is better than being impoverished and in danger among strangers?</p> <p style="text-align: left;">The filmmaker allows you to walk out of the film feeling OK about the whole thing, because a charming, precocious 6-year old stared down some big, nasty beasties (aurocs) with horns. You get to walk out of the film feeling OK about the whole thing because that plucky community decided to make their own way, rather than depend upon the outside help that is portrayed as sterile, impersonal, other (not that it isn't, but I think you're getting my drift.) You get to walk out of the film feeling OK, and appreciate this "<a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/film/film-reviews/beasts-of-the-southern-wild-an-uncompromising-celebration-of-the-strange/article4410613/">allegory of marginal people’s resilience</a>". Duh. <em>Of course marginal people are resilient. If they weren't resilient they would be dead!</em> Why is it that we seem to need to keep seeing this over and over again?</p> <p style="text-align: left;">And speaking of that plucky community, it is a bit strange to me, frankly, that it is portrayed as such an interracial community. It's hard to buy, and it feels a little suspicious to me--as if the director realized that a film about a community that was truly representative of what "The Bathtub" would be (i.e. all black) would somehow be open to more criticism than one portrayed the way it was.</p> <p style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/film/film-reviews/beasts-of-the-southern-wild-an-uncompromising-celebration-of-the-strange/article4410613/">One review </a>said: "As a piece of filmmaking, it remains so satisfyingly bizarre, it makes its detractors seem imaginatively stunted while leaving even its admirers guessing." Count me imaginatively stunted.</p> </div></div></div><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-1 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-inline clearfix view-mode-full view-mode-full"><h2 class="field-label">Blog Category: </h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/1">America</a></li></ul></section><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="" data-related=":" data-text="Beasts of the Southern Wild" data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/beasts-southern-wild" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/beasts-southern-wild" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> <article> <h1>Don't forget capitalism</h1> <p>mpm — Wed, 25 Jul 2012 04:25:40 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/dont-forget-capitalism" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p>I was reading <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/25/opinion/a-way-out-of-the-gun-madness.html?ref=opinion">this op-ed peice</a> about the tragedy in Colorado. It's a good and balanced view of the politics around gun control. I think it's reasonable, and deals with the fact that for the most part, both sides talk past each other. But he mentions, then sort of discards something important. A quote:</p> <blockquote><p>"The online ads for drum magazines make one’s skin crawl. On a site called Woot! a 100-round magazine was advertised for $99.95: “Just the ticket, should things really heat up and the lead needs to fly. Of course, this means less time spent reloading, and more time for shooting as fast as you can pull the trigger.”</p> </blockquote> <p>He doesn't go into any more detail about the one thing people seem to be missing. A lot of people make <strong>shitloads </strong>of money from people who buy guns and ammunition. And unless that is looked at squarely, the argument between these two sets of ideas: "let's have some control over the guns and ammunition that people can buy" and "my gun will be taken from my cold, dead hands" aren't going to go anywhere useful. The <em>real </em>interests (i.e. money) behind the NRA and those who don't want any gun control aren't the types you usually think of who think the second amendment is the most important part of the constitution. Most of it comes from people who make and sell the stuff. A lot of the stuff. The manufacturers alone<a href="http://www.hoovers.com/industry/gun-ammunition-manufacturing/1200-1.html"> make $6 billion a year</a>. Who knows how much everyone else (importers, retailers, wholesalers, etc.) makes.<a href="http://www.vpc.org/studies/bloodmoney.pdf"> Here's a study</a> which shows that the NRA is bankrolled by the people that make their money in guns and ammo. <a href="http://www.politicolnews.com/what-big-donors-get-for-funding-the-nra/">Here's some background</a> on what big donors get for giving big money to the NRA. And then, if you want to weep, <a href="http://www.opensecrets.org/orgs/summary.php?id=D000000082">here's how the NRA spends its money</a> politically.</p> <p>Yes, Colorado happened because someone who was probably mentally ill, or at least in deep, deep distress and suffering, pulled triggers. <em><strong>But the fact that he had guns and ammo at all is because someone who stood to gain monetarily made an investment in the NRA, and people could make money selling him those weapons. Follow the money.</strong></em></p> </div></div></div><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-1 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-inline clearfix view-mode-full view-mode-full"><h2 class="field-label">Blog Category: </h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/1">America</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/taxonomy/term/5">Current Affairs</a></li></ul></section><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="" data-related=":" data-text="Don't forget capitalism" data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/dont-forget-capitalism" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/dont-forget-capitalism" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> <article> <h1>Bifurcated Life</h1> <p>mpm — Mon, 23 Jul 2012 00:06:38 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/bifurcated-life" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p>I'm one of those people, you know, the people with a "country home." Of course, my primary home is a room in a collective house, and I share the cute, little "country house", but still. Right now, I feel like I'm living a bifurcated life.</p> <p>I spend most of my time in West Oakland. West Oakland where the view is of houses, a few trees, and the recycler dragging his four carts full of bottles and cans down the middle of our street. Where the most common things to hear are car alarms, the sirens of the police car speeding down the street on the way to who-knows-what, the loud rap music from a Lexus with very large wheels and irridescent paint, or a woman screaming into her cell phone to someone else. As I drive into West Oakland, the cranes share the skyline with the buildings of downtown. Below me as I drive on the elevated highway are the acres of warehouses and fields full of cargo containers.</p> <p>I spend about 1/4 of my time in Healdsburg, at a small cabin up in some hills where pretty much all there is is trees, sun, and a not-that-often-used dirt road outside a high fence. Yes, there is the occasional car going by, but mostly, what I hear is the sound of cicadas, the quail couples talking to each other, the buzzing of bees at the lavender plants, and my own breath. As I drive the roads to the cabin, there are trees in the skyline, and pastures and vineyards spread out as far as the eye can see.</p> <p>It's hard to imagine two different places--they might well be separate planets. While I was in the country, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/23/us/colorado-movie-theater-shooting-james-holmes.html?ref=us">stuff happened</a>. And the only reason I heard about it was that the dial-up service that Ruth uses pushes headlines at her. But it somehow didn't seem real, didn't quite touch me until I got back to the city. Somehow, it seems more real, more like it <em>could </em>happen to me. When I was in the country, it seemed almost unimaginable. </p> <p>Although doing this dance back and forth is sometimes taxing, there seems to be a richness in it right now. A richness of experience, a richness of understanding how each changes my internal landscape, and the way I feel. And right now, that richness seems the right thing.</p> </div></div></div><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-1 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-inline clearfix view-mode-full view-mode-full"><h2 class="field-label">Blog Category: </h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/17">Oakland</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/taxonomy/term/18">Personal</a></li></ul></section><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="" data-related=":" data-text="Bifurcated Life" data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/bifurcated-life" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/bifurcated-life" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> <article> <h1>Fashion Statements</h1> <p>mpm — Sun, 15 Jul 2012 22:10:18 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/fashion-statements" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p>I was in my car, on the way back from a shopping trip to *cough* Whole Foods, when I spied a man and what seemed to be his female partner and their little kid. They were young, and he was wearing his jeans past his you-know-what, and that little litany began in my head, "why...?" Then, I realized something about fashion. Now I would say that I never really liked what is called "fashion," and I've never been one to be fashionable (I thought.) I realize what's true is that I don't like fashions from <strong>other people's subcultures.</strong></p> <p>We are tribal beings. We forget this all the time, but millions of years of evolution of primate behavior is not going to be erased in a few hundred years. I remember being at a <a href="http://aspirationtech.org/events/devsummit11">geeky-activist-crunchy-granola lovefest</a> last fall, and I was noticing people's shoes. And I was thinking, "wow, there are some cool shoes here." You know the types, Keens, funky Converse sneakers, Doc Martins, etc. It's natural for us to want to know that we belong to our tribe. Is the (mild) mohawk I now sport, or my "Eat More Kale" t-shirt any different than pants down the thighs? No, not really. My choices in clothes and shoes, though I tend to shop only when I am in pretty desperate need of a replacement to something, are all, really, a reflection of the fashions of my chosen subculture(s). I wear what people around me wear, and what people I want to emulate wear, even if I'm not exactly aware of that wish to emulate. That man's choice of how he wears his pants has everything to do with what tribe he belongs to, and what makes people of that tribe recognizable to each other.</p> <p>Of course Fashion (with a captial 'f') is a bit of a different thing - but it is likely influenced by some subcultures, and influences others. But fashion (with a little 'f' - our clothing choices, if we are in a position to make them) is something that we all engage in, even subconsiously. So I'm going to stop that litany every time I see someone with their pants around their thighs, and just remember my mohawk.</p> </div></div></div><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-1 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-inline clearfix view-mode-full view-mode-full"><h2 class="field-label">Blog Category: </h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/18">Personal</a></li></ul></section><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="pearlbear" data-related=":" data-text="Fashion Statements" data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/fashion-statements" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/fashion-statements" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> <article> <h1>Open Doors</h1> <p>mpm — Fri, 06 Jul 2012 23:54:37 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/open-doors" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p> </p> <div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Tahoma; line-height: normal; border-spacing: 0px; font-size: medium; ">I watch the fawn and it's mother, grazing in the short, scrubby, yellow grass beyond the house. They don't seem to mind our watching them, although they are wary. I wonder if we thought of them as tonight's dinner, would they notice? Would they skitter and jump into the trees just from the energy of those thoughts?</span> <div> </div> <div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Tahoma; line-height: normal; border-spacing: 0px; font-size: medium; ">I am acutely aware of my human-ness here. My body can't help but align itself to the energy of the land, since the land here is largely unmasked, mostly uncovered from the human surfacing of concrete, asphalt, metal and hewn wood. It's as though my body remembers what it is, and can't help but be aware of other bodies, other kinds of beings sharing this space.</span></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Tahoma; line-height: normal; border-spacing: 0px; font-size: medium; ">The quail family, mom, dad (with his spectacular, but little, crest) and little quaillets (as Ruth names them) walk all over this land, pecking at the ground, and surveying the territory, presumably for danger. The little ones follow closely, or even run a little ahead, but it seems they know not to stray to far from their parents.</span></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Tahoma; line-height: normal; border-spacing: 0px; font-size: medium; ">Spring has moved into full summer, the sun hot, shade still comfortable, and the insects make themselves known - a few looking for blood, but most moving from flower to flower, sipping on nectar, and unsuspectingly (or not?) spreading pollen to make new butterfly bushes, new jasmines, or new lavenders around the land.</span></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Tahoma; line-height: normal; border-spacing: 0px; font-size: medium; ">It is quiet here - so quiet that my thoughts are too loud, and I feel the desire to quiet them as well, so I can hear what it is that the land has to offer me. It's as if each day I live in meditation, my mind quiet, thoughts moving only occasionally, mostly I am just aware of the present moment, the brush of wind along my bare arm as I sit on the porch, the shush of the leaves as they move in the same breeze, the tiny, light footsteps of the lizard moving across the driveway in front of the house. </span></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Tahoma; line-height: normal; border-spacing: 0px; font-size: medium; ">When I take the inevitable and necessary drive back into "civilization" (why is it called that?), I feel the human surfacing quickly increase, as I move from Sonoma, to Marin, and then finally to Oakland. My connection with the land grows dim, and I put up the numerous guards I have set across the doors of my soul to protect it from the overstimulation of people. </span></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Tahoma; line-height: normal; border-spacing: 0px; font-size: medium; ">I do remember why I left land, why I left the open doors (literally and figuratively), why I left the free flow of quiet into my heart. I don't regret it one bit. There are ways it has fed me and given me a kind of healing only possible in places where there are more people than there are trees.</span></div> <div> </div> <div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Tahoma; line-height: normal; border-spacing: 0px; font-size: medium; ">I have come to realize that the incessant pressure of people, the loud booming music from cars, the gunshots in the night, the sirens and helicopters, the constant buzz and whine and the energetic assault of the sadness, desperation and anger of a million people has contributed to my illness, and forced me to put up so many internal walls that my life has become narrower and smaller than it should be. My time of closed doors may be coming to an end, and perhaps I must return to where the quiet flows freely.</span></div> <div> </div> </div> <p> </p> </div></div></div><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="" data-related=":" data-text="Open Doors" data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/open-doors" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/open-doors" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> <article> <h1>Have a Cup of Tea with Fear</h1> <p>mpm — Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:25:37 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/have-cup-tea-fear" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p><em>I gave this sermon this morning at <a href="http://firstoakland.org">First Congregational Church of Oakland</a>.</em></p> <p> </p> <div> <div>Today's reading, from Romans 8, verses 12 through 15 (from the<a href="http://www.sentpress.com/welcome/welcome.html"> SENT translation</a>) says:</div> <div> </div> <div>"So the conclusion, brothers and sisters is this. We have no obligation to the flesh: we don't have to live in line with it. Because if you live in line with the flesh, you're going to die. But if you make the bad behaviors of the body die off with the Spirit, you are going to live. All of those who are led by the Spirit of God are God's children. After all, you haven't received a spirit of slavery that leads you into fear all over again: you've received the spirit of adoption!" </div> <div> </div> <div>Paul talked about flesh in Romans, and so I'm going to talk about flesh. Really. In particular, a little part of your flesh called the Amygdala. The Amygdala is a small part of your brain that is the center of emotions. It's part of what is often called the "Reptilian Brain" because it's very primitive, and has been around for a long time. Over the course of evolution, mammals and primates built up all of these layers of what is called the "neocortex" - neo for "new." That's where all the sophisticated sensory processing and thought stuff happens. </div> <div> </div> <div>Fear, in its essence, is a survival mechanism. When we get afraid, lots of things happen. Our heart rate rises, the blood is redirected from less essential areas, like our digestive systems, to the muscles. We secrete a couple of different compounds: Adrenaline, and Cortisol, both designed to make physiological changes in our body so that we have resources available to us to keep us alive. That's the "fight or flight" response - what gets us running or fighting when our lives are at risk. Fear is actually a good thing. Really. In an evolutionary sense, if we didn't have it, we couldn't have survived long. </div> <div> </div> <div>The Amygdala is involved in this fear response, and, in fact, mediates a process called "fear conditioning." Fear conditioning is the process by which we learn to predict when events that might hurt us will happen. Again, evolutionarily, this was a good thing, but as you might imagine, it has real negative consequences in modern society.</div> <div> </div> <div>How many of you have heard of the book "Dune"? It is a science fiction classic. It has a scene, early on, that I'd like to describe to you. A young man is given a test by a priestess. There is a box he must put his hand in. A box of full of pain. It will make his hand feel like it is being flayed. Also, after he puts his hand in the box, the priestess holds a poison needle near his hand, so that if he removes his hand, he will die. Nice test, eh? I'm sure most of us would prefer the SAT. Anyway, he's been well trained, and says in his mind, over and over, "Fear is the mind-killer."</div> <div> </div> <div>So what does that mean, exactly, "fear is the mind-killer?" Fear is a mind-killer in the sense that it does have a way of taking over our mind. And, if you define the mind as what happens in the neocortex, it's true, fear is most definitely a mind-killer for good reason - we don't want to have to spend time thinking when being chased by a lion, tiger or bear. But the problem is that even when we aren't being chased, or in any danger at all, fear is still a mind-killer. I'm sure that you know this from personal experience - acting out of fear, for instance, in a relationship, or in an organization, is almost always a mistake - we can't think clearly in a state of fear. We can't act out of love or generosity in a state of fear. </div> <div> </div> <div> <div>How does acting out of fear really manifest itself today? It's in the small things, and the big things. A tiny thing that I deal with myself all the time - I can spend the entire trip somewhere (like into the city, or to some event) being afraid that I won't find parking when I arrive. That's sort of trivial, but it certainly can affect one's mood and attitude. Another one, more significant, might be saying something to a loved one that you regret because you are afraid of abandonment, or not letting a child do something fun for fear that they might get hurt. </div> <div> </div> <div>But the truth is, in this society, we are fed a diet full of fear - and I don't just mean horror movies. We are supposed to live in fear that our neighbor has a better car, or a better kitchen, better hair, or a better spouse. If we didn't have those fears, capitalism as we know it might well collapse. We are told to be afraid of the aliens who come across the border to take our jobs, or the black men in hoodies who are supposed to be dangerous to our neighborhoods.</div> <div> </div> <div>I know that we often talk about homophobia as hate. But in fact, science has now shown that it's actually more fear than hate. Fear of what? Fear of one's own desires. Those who are more actively, vocally, homophobic are people who themselves have unacknowledged homosexual desires. My bet is that people who talk about (and, sadly, preach about) putting gays in concentration camps, and killing us, are people who want to wall off their own internal desires, or kill the person inside of themselves that has those desires.</div> </div> <div> </div> <div>In this time in the Christian liturgical calendar, we've been talking a lot about the disciples, and what's been happening to them. Their teacher was executed, and any of his followers are considered suspicious. Any thoughts they had of Jesus being a military or political messianic figure has permanently become dust, and they are not sure what the heck they are going to do now that he's left them. I can imagine that they were very afraid. But they were clearly brave. Bravery is not at all the lack of fear. It is feeling fear, but doing the right thing anyway. It is not acting out of that fear - because acting out of that fear is really cowardice. </div> <div> </div> <div>The truth is, we are often completely unaware of when we are acting out of fear, because we've been trained to ignore it, to repress it, or push it aside and to pretend it doesn't exist. Many of us have not allowed ourselves to feel fear in a long time. Or sometimes those fears have been mutated into kinds of avoidance, or unhelpful behaviors. We have many responses to fear, and, sadly, most of them aren't very useful. And many of us fear the feeling of fear itself. </div> <div> </div> <div>So what does it really mean to "live in line with the flesh" or "be led by the Spirit of God?" Often Paul's passage is interpreted to mean all sorts of things about bodily functions, especially sex. For me, Paul's comment about "living in line with the flesh" is, about letting those reptilian-brain emotions, like fear or anger, determine how we act, and what we do. My general interpretation of this passage connects with the Buddhist concept of the "Three Poisons" which are greed, hatred and delusion, and they all have connections to fear. </div> <div> </div> <div>Greed, in a sense, is both the desire for pleasure, as well as a response to the fear of loss of pleasure. We are afraid that we will run out of money, so we are always looking form more. Hatred is connected to the fear of something unpleasant. Delusion is holding onto a wrong view purposefully, perhaps because we are afraid of the truth. Thoughts fueled by these poisons are considered by Buddhism to be unwholesome. To me, "living in line with the flesh" as living life being fed by these poisons - and being "led by the spirit of God" means being led by generosity, love and awareness opposites to these three poisons.</div> <div> </div> <div>Like most people, I never liked my fear. I didn't feel it often, mostly because I didn't allow myself to. When I did feel it, it was like going into a sort of a pit - I was afraid I'd never get out. Although I have always been able to take risks in my life, like leaving a comfortable life to go to seminary, and earlier than that, leaving a tenured faculty position to strike out on my own, I've always been afraid of my fears, and did my best to ignore them. Finally, though, I couldn't ignore my fears any longer. If there is one thing I have to say about the ability to live well with a chronic illness, it means getting really comfortable with fear. </div> <div> </div> <div>I would not say it's been an easy process - and it is still a work in progress for sure. But there is a way that I am more free from my fears, now that I know them better. I think everyone can benefit from getting to know your fear, whether you are healthy or not - because we all have to deal with loss and death, and the fear that those things bring. We need to understand fear. It is in that process of understanding fear, and dare I say, befriending fear, that we can better know how to not act out of fear. </div> <div> </div> <div>Back to the Amygdala for a moment. As I said before, it's an important component in the fear reaction process, and in fear conditioning. But science has also learned that meditators know how to modulate the responses of their Amygdalas. This is good news. It means that these responses can change - we can learn to live differently with our fears.</div> <div> </div> <div>So I'm going to help you take a tiny baby step in this direction today.</div> <div> </div> <div>Please close your eyes, and settle into your seat. Feel the support of the pew under you. Feel your breath come in... and out. Let any thoughts drift away with your breath out. Think of a situation that you know scares you. It might be being afraid of spiders, or heights. It might be fear of loss of a loved one, or fear of death. And if thinking of any of these things feels like too much, just notice how you feel in realizing that. And sense what's in your body. Perhaps you feel your extremities get cold. Maybe you get restless legs, or feel it in the pit of your stomach, or maybe it's something completely different. Whatever that feeling is, pay attention how the fear feels for a moment. Just notice it for as long as you can, and if it goes away, that's OK, try to remember even the brief feeling.</div> <div> </div> <div>Next, I'd like you to thank your fear. Really. Thank it, be grateful for it. That fear of yours has helped you. Maybe it helped you to survive an abusive childhood. Perhaps it helped you to leave a damaging or traumatic relationship. It might have helped you get sober. It helped you avoid some accidents, or saved you from being more hurt when you were mugged. Helped to motivate you to make some change in your life. Your fear has helped you survive this life. Give it gratitude. Thank God for your fear.</div> <div> </div> <div>You can open your eyes now.</div> <div> </div> <div>After you've have gratitude for your fear, you can have a virtual cup of tea with it. Why? Because you need to know it better. The more you know, and understand your fear, the better you will be at seeing it when it happens, and seeing how you act around it. If you ignore it, and don't know it, you'll never know really when it comes calling, and what you do when its around. Sometimes, having a cup of tea with fear seems like not the right thing. Maybe sometimes you need to wrestle with it. But the wrestling should not be the kind of wrestling to try to push it away - it should be the kind of wrestling where you're watching it - seeing what it does, how it moves, and, in some ways, embracing it.</div> <div> </div> <div>You can ask questions of your fear. Are you a little kid fear, born of a time when something happened to you as a child? A loss, or a trauma? Or is it more of an adult fear? Is this a fear of something real, or a fear about something that happened before? What do you need around that fear?</div> <div> </div> <div>This is not a simple process. One day, you might be close buddies with your fear, and the next day, you might well forget what that fear looks like, or felt like, as you go about your day. But if you keep a commitment to awareness, slowly, but surely, you'll learn to recognize the fear when it arises, and be able to say, "Hey, fear. Thanks for being around. You can sit over here while I handle this." And as you keep getting to know your fear, insist on that cuppa with it. Encourage it to sit down with you, and teach you about itself.</div> <div> </div> <div>In facing, learning about, and having a cup of tea with our fear, we are able to see the ways in which fear leads to unwholesome thoughts and actions, and this can make room in our lives to be truly led by the spirit of God - the spirit of generosity and love.</div> </div> <p> </p> </div></div></div><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-1 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-inline clearfix view-mode-full view-mode-full"><h2 class="field-label">Blog Category: </h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/18">Personal</a></li><li class="field-item odd"><a href="/taxonomy/term/27">Theology</a></li><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/22">Science</a></li></ul></section><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="" data-related=":" data-text="Have a Cup of Tea with Fear" data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/have-cup-tea-fear" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/have-cup-tea-fear" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> <article> <h1>Mobility does not equal freedom</h1> <p>mpm — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 02:15:49 +0000</p> <div class="g-plusone-wrapper" style="margin: 0 1em 1em 1em;float:right" ><g:plusone href="http://murrain.net/blog/mobility-does-not-equal-freedom" size="medium" annotation="bubble" width="250" ></g:plusone></div><div class="field field-name-field-blogimage field-type-image field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><figure class="clearfix field-item even"></figure></div></div><div class="field field-name-body field-type-text-with-summary field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><p>I was headed on an <a href="http://murrain.net/blog/going-cross-country-again">epic trip</a>. I was, really. I have driven cross-country more times than I can count, and it is an activity I have much enjoyed in my life, although I know that is mysterious to many - it is an activity many do not enjoy at all. There is a way in which long-distance driving was a kind of emblem of my freedom to move about in the world - it was part of how I defined myself. I at times fantasized about being a long-haul trucker (but never all that seriously.)</p> <p>I have, for the last year and a half, struggled with a chronic illness (chronic pancreatitis) that is not life-threatening, but has been very life-altering for me. I've had to reduce the hours I work, greatly change my diet and activites. I've become an avid fan of <a href="https://www.pocacoop.com/">community acupuncture</a>, because it gives me treatment I need that I can afford. I've learned a lot about antioxidants. Western medicine has nothing to offer me for this condition - it's not one that it can treat at all. I have been doing quite well with the modified life, and I assumed that planning a six-week cross country trip to visit friends and family, and go to <a href="http://wiscon.info">Wiscon</a>, would be within my abilities. I was wrong.</p> <p>Two days into the trip, while driving through Death Valley, I got pretty sick, and had to turn back. Besides being sad and disappointed at mssing the trip I'd been carefully planning for weeks and weeks, I've had to go through a lot relating to how I think of myself - my own self concept. What's true is that I've struggled with this particular conundrum for a lot longer than this. I also have a "hidden" disability - a very arthritic hip, that limits my ability to do a lot of things - and that's been true for years, but somehow, losing this ability - the ability to drive wherever I want whenever I want to, has made me stare this in the face.</p> <p>Of course, many people deal with this all the time - I've had it relatively easy in life. I can walk around, dress myself easily, do modest exercise, and make my way around the world in such a way as most people have no idea of what I struggle with. But as I get older, I'm learning that I can no longer equate mobility with freedom.</p> <p>What is freedom, after all? Many of us think of freedom as the ability to do what we want when we want it - but that's a false sort of idea - because by that measure, none of us is truly free. Real freedom is an inner state - a state of being fully at peace with what is. We are free from aversion, or craving, or hatred - we are free from what binds us to suffering. We are free to live out, and manifest our best nature. That is the freedom I long for.</p> <p>Losing mobility is a fact of life, whether it happens to us sooner or later. But freedom is always available to us. </p> </div></div></div><section class="field field-name-taxonomy-vocabulary-1 field-type-taxonomy-term-reference field-label-inline clearfix view-mode-full view-mode-full"><h2 class="field-label">Blog Category: </h2><ul class="field-items"><li class="field-item even"><a href="/taxonomy/term/18">Personal</a></li></ul></section><div class="field field-name-field-tweet field-type-tweetbutton field-label-hidden view-mode-full view-mode-full"><div class="field-items"><div class="field-item even"><div class="tweetbutton-tweet tweetbutton"><a href="http://twitter.com/share" data-size="medium" data-count="horizontal" data-via="" data-related=":" data-text="Mobility does not equal freedom" data-counturl="http://murrain.net/blog/mobility-does-not-equal-freedom" data-url="http://murrain.net/blog/mobility-does-not-equal-freedom" data-lang="en" class="twitter-share-button">Tweet</a></div></div></div></div> </article> </main></body></html>