Middle Way Talk Part I
We live in unprecedented times.
I used to see that word occasionally, but now “unprecedented,” seems to be one of journalists favorite words.
Unprecedented!
Of course, we never could count on predicting tomorrow by what happened yesterday, but today, the level of uncertainty seems to have risen dramatically, and is a daily burden of stress and worry in our lives.
Young people especially feel that their future is being stolen from them by our paralysis in dealing with climate change. What kind of world will their children face? This is fundamental, existential uncertainty.
Indeed, now we see genocide unfolding in public view, and the world seems to watch, paralyzed and unable to stop it. What kind of world will any of us face?
This is an edgy topic, but this Buddha way that we are exploring has something valuable to offer us who are worried about life on the edge.
Buddhism is often called “The Middle Way.”
The term comes from the Buddha’s life story. His father wanted to protect him from the ills of the world. Old age, sickness and death were unmentionables in his household, and were removed from his sight. He was allowed every pleasure, every indulgence of the senses, but was not allowed to leave the family compound.
But, spoiler alert! We know that avoidance and denial never work in the long run, and, of course, he eventually encountered the real world outside the gates and was horrified at the suffering he saw there. He renounced his privileged life and set about to find its meaning. He joined a band of spiritual seekers who practiced self-mortification and traveled with them for some years.
Eventually, he gave up the ascetic life and made his own path of moderation and meditation. He sat under a great tree for days, until he realized the root cause of suffering and the way to end it.
The middle way, avoiding the extremes of self-gratification on one hand and self-mortification on the other.
We usually take the term the middle way to mean to avoid extremes, to be even-tempered and moderate in all things, to be easily contented and gentle in speech.
I like to think of the middle way as the edge or transition zone between worlds.
We are all edge dwellers here on the far western edge of this continent that indigenous people called Turtle Island. We can understand from our experience here that, biologically as well as culturally, edges are areas of great diversity.
Tidal zones, between land and sea, have the greatest diversity of marine plant and animal life. The transition zone between forest and field will have the most diverse bird, insect and mammal populations.
Topsoil, on the edge between earth and atmosphere, is a teeming mixture of relationships, with fungi, plant roots, grubs and insects, bacteria, burrowing animals, all intermingling in complex and unknown ways, way more biologically active than the air above or the deeper soil below.
An incredibly generous range of plants bridge this edge, roots in the dark earth, trunk and branches in the light and air above, from old redwood groves to the tiniest sweet mosses.
Buddha’s realization happened under the great tree of enlightenment.
I mean, is this paradise here, or what? It seems to have just naturally arranged itself for maximum beauty and abundance, generously willing to dazzle us anew each morning.
I think our species has loved the coastal hills on this western edge of Turtle Island at least since the last ice age, making sustainable no-growth human communities here that lasted for thousands of years.
Let’s not get too sentimental, though! Natural processes are not necessarily nice, or moderate. They are often harsh and exciting, sometimes red in tooth and claw, and always involved in the dance between creation and destruction.
What is life-saving rain upstream, may be catastrophic flooding downstream. All beings are food for each other, and we are all constantly eating.
You could call it “The Grand Metabolic Feast.” We are all guests at the table as well as on the menu. Let’s make it a good party!
I am so happy to be here in this middle way, between birth and death, together with all of you today!
I have to say Congratulations! We made it! Despite everything!
Each of us has had so many chances for it to have been otherwise, but here we are still. Today. So far.
For today we are deeply grateful.
Tomorrow? Total uncertainty. Nothing can be taken for granted. The only thing we can count on for sure is the eventual and inevitable loss of everything we cling to and cherish. And who knows when that might be?
No map. No GPS. No YouTube video. No owner’s manual. Not even a life jacket or an emergency blanket! Unprecedented!
We humans don’t do so well with fear. It undercuts our more reasonable, thoughtful mental processes and makes us do bad things.
Fear magnifies those hindrances to well-being that our Buddhist ancestors identified as greed, hatred, and delusion.
Greed for more life saps our courage and makes us search for the easiest, safest way.
Hatred shrivels our social instincts, undermining the safety to be found in solidarity with others.
Delusion clouds our judgment and makes us susceptible to propaganda, marketing, and manipulation.
Fear amplifies those conditions that made us fearful in the first place, making us even more fearful.
The result is this impossible political dilemma in which we are prevented from addressing our deepest social and environmental problems. We are forced to complicity in genocide, crimes against humanity, and the threat of nuclear war, no matter who we vote for.
No wonder so many people feel the electoral system is rigged and voting is almost useless!
For some, fear leads us to wish for a past time when things felt predictable and certain.
Others of us are afraid of conflict itself and are nostalgic for a long gone feeling of normalcy that doesn’t disturb anyone or upset the status quo.
I don’t think either of those ways of remembering the past is historically accurate, but they are feelings, and you can’t really argue with a feeling.
Jim Hightower, philosopher and former Texas commissioner of agriculture is famously quoted as saying there is nothing in the middle of the road but yellow stripes and dead armadillos. The limitation of moderation.
Yet, throughout the society, on all sides, we want to be good to each other. Our normal social impulse continues to be toward easing suffering, doing our best, taking care of each other, solving problems, helping those in trouble.
In this field, wisdom and compassion may grow, and fear may ease, even in the face of stark uncertainty.
Zen is radically inclusive. Yes, there are tribes. Yes, there are conflicts. But yes, we are one. Whole hearted. The whole works.