Do any of the stories matter?

“What happens to you does not belong to you” Claudia Rankine”

I have a lot of stories. How many do you have? What are the top three? Many of mine begin with “I’m the kind of person who ________ .” Whoops. Years ago, someone I trust, a very kind teacher, cautioned me about that. Such words are my way of trying to impose order on chaos. And such statements are usually in service of defending me, my past actions, views, pains. The “I am X kind of person” seem true at the moment but actually are not as fixed as we like to think. Do any of the stories matter? Is there a narrative of self that is not a story?

We learn in Zen practice to be skeptical of the stories and try to pay attention to what’s underneath or behind the stories. Sometimes, I think practitioners idealize “no self” as emptiness, a perfection of non-self. Actually, its not that the self does not exist, its that it is constantly changing, so its not a fixed, unchanging thing. A minute ago, all my cells were younger. Yesterday, I was tired, today I am not.

If, as Rankine says, “what happens to you does not belong to you,” what then? Does what happens to you matter? We are individuals who share a collective reality. Therefore some of our stories are about that collective reality—the nature of the social order that exists as a good sociologist would say, sui generis, in and of itself. Or, in other words, the social order exists somewhat independent of the individuals who live in it. Got that? Ok, now you are a sociologist.

The Kamakura period in Japan has certain possibilities for life—women are not priests, samurai practice buddhism, Yoritomo Shogunate governs Japan, Japan is feudal, etc. etc. The 21st century in America has certain possibilities for life—and the likelihood of black income on average will surpass average white income is virtually zero. In 21st century American, there are women priests in Soto Zen, the economy is global capitalism, there is a #metoo movement, there are democratic norms (even if there is widespread breaking of those norms)., etc.

The stories that matter are the ones that tell us about how WE live, the conditions, the causes of our time.

Algorithms, Inequality and Zen Practice

Do you care about algorithms? Probably your mind has already wandered away to something more interesting. Still. Here’s a short note on why I care about this. Algorithms hide gross forms of inequality.

I will just leave here a brief plea: understanding what an algorithm does on social media should concern us—because algorithms do the affective work to shield us from critical and analytic thinking. Affective work means emotion reaction. We react in simple terms—I like this, I agree with this, I disagree with this, I can’t stand this. It is much easier to be dualistic than to be analytical.

The latest from the New York Times and WAPO is the reveal that FB allowed companies to engage in targeted advertising for some but not all potential customers—renters, buyers, leasing. HUD announced a lawsuit 3/28 and FB genuflects a quick apology and claims to have corrected. Sure. The problem is not this one incident. Rather, this one incident is part of a long arc of social media practices that are intended to sell stuff through selective markets. Also, its not just FB but all social media platforms run via algorithms for our attention.

I know, I know… we think of inequality as individual or collective actions that have some intent…. underlayment so to speak. What’s zen got to do with it? A common answer I hear today is, “get off social media.” Or, as a board member once said to me, “should a zen person even be on social media?” Oh please. True that I was never of the “kill your TV” pathos. It is true that if I abandoned all social media, I would not see the inequality. But not seeing it, doesn’t mean it is not there. Indeed, inequality thrives, like mold, in dark places. So, step one, opening my eyes. To fully see what is hidden in the world.

grief and ordinary life

“Happiness is beneficial for the body but it is grief that develops the power of the mind” These words, by Marcel Proust in his book, In search of lost time. (circa 1923).

I have been fond of saying, “grief has its own rhythm” to emphasize that grief is not something but rather is a thing that moves, a process. I can’t recall where I heard this. But over the years, I’ve said it often, and now, sometimes, I hear others say it. We know that each new death or loss (literal or figurative) can sometimes awaken prior losses.

My own zen practice has been well watered with tears.

Wilder Ranch, 2018

The World of Becoming

The world of becoming is always emergent. Can you sense this?

Being a zen student means to see the world as it is rather than the world I think it should be. The world-as- it-is is a world of change, a world of becoming. That means what happens next is not given or overdetermined by whats happening now. The phrase “becoming” is meant to steer us away from fatalistic, knee jerk assumptions about what we know, what social change is, and how many futures are possible.

Or, as Jane Hirshfield writes, “Zen pretty much comes down to three things—everything changes, everything is connected, pay attention.”

William Connolly’s brilliant book, A world of Becoming, is an academic/philosophical case for seeing the social change and transformation as an unfolding rather than an overdetermined set of outcomes. Emphasis on process, not on fixed outcomes. Process, which while still structured or held by certain logics, like capitalism, has futures. Emphasis plural. As such, it is an argument against the fatalistic determinism one sometimes finds in left and right materialisms, and even in zen practice.

We live in multiple and inter-connected worlds. Before Connolly, there are hints of his argument in philosophy, history, and literature. For example, in Symposium., Plato describes the world of becoming and the world of being. We exist in two worlds, a microcosm within a macrocosm. http://www.cyberpat.com/shirlsite/essays/plato.html

New York City, Hudson River Parkway.

If you think you know the answer, then you don't understand the problem**

Being a university professor for 30+ years means I know a lot of experts in sociology, literature, history, and philosophy. Their exquisite work inspires. The most thoughtful of them, especially those who study the big intractable issues of our time, global inequality, racism, gender inequality, war, genocide, poverty, educational disparities, climate change do not indulge in the rhetoric of quick fixes. Sure, we can and do advocate for policy changes. Can we advocate and also be mindful of the limits of advocacy? Where else can we go?

Photo by Robin D’Oench

**These words were spoken by University of California then-President David Gardener circa 1986. He was speaking about the problem of university admissions generally, and specifically, complaints by Asian Americans that the UC system discriminated against them in the admissions process. In the late 1980s there were state and federal investigations of admissions at some of the top schools in the country, Harvard, UCLA, and Berkeley.

Renewed interest and legal cases at University of Michigan, and UT Austin went to the Supreme Court. Currently, there is a case being considered by the Court in which the plaintiffs argue that Asian Americans were treated unfairly in admissions at Harvard.