Intelligence

"There are two kinds of intelligence. One acquired,

as a child in school memorizes facts and concepts

from books and from what the teacher says,

collecting information from the traditional sciences

as well as from the new sciences.

With such intelligence you rise in the world.

You get ranked ahead or behind others

in regard to your competence in retaining

information. You stroll with this intelligence

in and out of fields of knowledge, getting always more

marks on your preserving tablets.

There is another kind of tablet, one

already completed and preserved inside you.

A spring overflowing its springbox. A freshness

in the center of your chest. This other intelligence

does not turn yellow or stagnate. It’s fluid,

and it doesn’t move from outside to inside

through the conduits of plumbing-learning.

This second knowing is a fountainhead

From within you, moving out."

—Rumi (Translated by Coleman Barks). 

A Significant Movement

As the discourse continues as to why we as a nation are burdened with so many tragic homicides and mass murders, I am reminded to come to myself.  I am reminded to feel my feet on the ground, my breath moving through this body, to feel the feelings.  Like everyone else, I too have the desire to "fix" this, to throw a few directives into the mix and watch everything change to a rosier hue.  But with feet planted and my breath not moving so freely, I feel the sorrow of the impossibility of this.  Change is hard.  Too young at the time to remember, I imagine the civil rights activists of the 1960s might have had several similar and sobering pauses.  And even though we technically have more secured legal rights for all, garnered by the hard work of those vigilant activists, we still are plagued with prejudice, hatred, suspicion and separation for those different than us, whether they be of color, religion, political affiliation, age, geographic origins, class, gender, mental/physical wellness or sexual orientation to name but a few.  What hasn't changed is an internal movement, the type of movement that actually is significant.


Violence is born from isolation and attachment; attachment to static belief and isolation from other (experiences).  Isolated and attached, relationship is not possible; there is no room, no breath, no inner flexibility to rely on.  Non-sensical violent actions transpire because most of me is not related.  Not related to myself, not related to my environment, not related to others. I am not watching.  I am not listening.  Or if I am, it's superficial, not from a fuller, more embodied intelligence.  Moving toward this intelligence must become our bottom line, not how much profits can be had (possibly a reason why mental health is not supported by systems: it's not profitable -in immediate dollar terms-, unlike most medical treatment).  Cultural violence, which has been pointed out so tangibly in statistics as of late, has to be taken on. There is no singular magic fix.  It's nature is complex. Personally, we have to own our own violence before the trickle down manifests.  As was mentioned in my Violence: a Cautionary Truth post, violence can be subtle and insidious.  This then, would require a greater ability to sensitize oneself to what is, a willingness not to turn away, a capacity for nonjudgment and acceptance of oneself (and others).

Sort of ridiculous to ask this of a culture at large?  Yes it is.  So, then I ask this of myself.  And then I ask this of myself again.  And I try to remember internal movement is significant.

Sonnet 07 - The face of all the world is changed, I think by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The face of all the world is changed, I think,
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul
Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole
Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole
God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,
And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear.
The names of country, heaven, are changed away
For where thou art or shalt be, there or here;
And this . . . this lute and song . . . loved yesterday,
(The singing angels know) are only dear
Because thy name moves right in what they say.

Leaning On

There are times when a leaning on is necessary.  No longer able to be a free standing part (at least temporarily), a wall, another becomes mandatory to rest upon.  It's a relief, if not an unfamiliar self-reckoning.  We take comfort in something/ someone taking the weight.  The image to the left here is a wonderful example of a spiraling reliance.  Very separate (yet related), distinct components bearing the weight of the whole. Everything is in balance, everything dependent on everything else to create a whole. Without the cooperative parts, the balance, the miracle of its wholeness would be lost.

And so it is now, as many of us soften into the darkness of the short days, relinquishing the more sentinel vertical we prop ourselves up at other times of the year. We lean on a fire at the hearth, music of the season, cultural ritual, even the warmth from a winter coat.  This time of year calls us back, asks us to return to that which is more still.  Interestingly, the hoopla and frenetic energy seems to go arm in arm with the quiet beckoning.  Contrasts.  Paradoxes.

" All truths wait in all things."-- Walt Whitman

In our confusion and tension over these paradoxes and the grief of losses, current and past, the stillness appears to be the thing we lean on.  Mercy. The words of others appear as solace.  That which is burdened, wounded, in sorrow rests.  Poetry surfaces.  Art becomes a salve to the spirit.  Wisdom and courage are found in unlikely forums:  a child's observation, a store clerk's calm and benevolent smile, the poignant wit of an elder.  Breath re-enters, becomes more spacious having lost some tension.  Fear and intrepidation take a break.

"Morally, spiritually, we are fettered.  What have we achieved in mowing down mountain ranges, harnessing the energy of mighty rivers, or moving whole populations about like chess pieces, if we ourselves remain the same restless, miserable, frustrated creatures we were before?  To call such activity progress is utter delusion.  We may succeed in altering the face of the earth until it is unrecognizable even to the Creator, but if we are unaffected wherein lies the meaning?  Meaningful acts require no stir.  When things are going to rack and ruin the most purposeful act may be to sit still."-- Arthur Miller

Leaning On.  A respite.  Meaningful acts require no stir.

Modern Love

It is not my habit to write about the latest sensational news.But lately, from widely different sources, essays, articles and impressions have been finding there way to me and I feel compelled to comment. The recent tragedy in Connecticut (close to my original home for decades) and its most probable link to unrecognized mental illness belay the lack of support for those suffering with mental illness (and their families) and also puts a perspective on the struggles and turning away our culture (government, insurance companies, "systems") does to ignore or deny these very real issues (which inevitably impact the general population as we saw in the Newtown, Connecticut horror). Essays such as the one on unusual Bronx nurses in public health battling with keeping teen mothers and their baby's heads above financial water and conditions absolutely stacked against any sense of wellness; psychiatrically tender college freshmen far from home requiring all sorts of professional support when overwhelm sets in.
The often tenuous mental/spirit challenged live in rough seas; those with financial resources and savvy know-how usually are able to navigate their needs successfully, while still bearing the difficulty of "otherness" which autism spectrum, development delays, mentally challenged and psych disorders reliably guarantee even under the best circumstances.  For those in any type of marginal economic situation, it is a catastrophe, as well as for those who love and take responsibility for them.  Perhaps, now we are a nation that is becoming more comfortable with otherness (legal gay marriage, persons of color in major public office, legalized recreational drug use); perhaps it is time we take on the pink elephant in the room, mental health and it's inclusion into general society, it's recognition, compassionate acceptance and a commitment toward an economic support for those struggling with it.
It is a good example what many households go through.  Terror, shame, confusion--- and mostly suffered in total isolation and invisibility. Our cultural system constructs can't acknowledge or begin to effectively deal with the Pandora's Box which is this area of healthcare. Tara Ebrahimi, wrote a recent article in the NY Times Sunday Please read this.  It's incredibly touching, a story I've seen a facsimile of time and time again working with people facing medical and mental hurdles.  A loved-one begins to decline, help is sought (over months and years) from all the right avenues and agencies (repeatedly), is not obtained despite jumping through an incredible amount of bureaucratic hoops and a family is left emotionally and financially depleted without the inner or outer resources to deal with an often impossible situation related to physical/mental/psych challenges. This courageous, loyal and loving woman finally with no other recourse, took matters into her own hands without knowing what to do, decided to Be with her brother.  She made relationship because it was the only thing to do, her only resource left. As was apparent, relationship was the thing lacking in all these other constant efforts with un-relatable In this world where it seems these challenges are exponentially increasing in incidence (ie: autism has increased to 1 in 88 births, a 1,148% growth rate), we are seeing three things: more basic life challenges for many more people, a culture and system that continues to deny not only the problem but the impact on the culture at large and we are seeing people (family members and loved ones) forced into a sensitization of self and other (such as Ebrahimi). These are people who have gone into the fire's crucible and survived with more patience, compassion, and a finely tuned depth of perception and awareness. I hesitate to call them saints; maybe invisible neighborhood prophets. They've got a world view worth proselytizing. They should be our future leaders.  They have lived the terrifying fringe, rarely have bitterness and only gratitude for the cauterizing hell they and their loved ones have been through. In them, a wisdom, understanding, moxy/chutzpah/grit has been crystallized. There is an authentic absence of greed, avarice and narcissism we are woefully needing in our public leaders today. At least in tandem with the gun control issue, if not before, the concept of Oneness needs to be addressed in this country. Relationship. Being. Being with and for, within and without. We should be looking at these courageous, loving relatives that take the monolithic Goliath systems on out of fierce devotion. We should be looking at those who have these illnesses and "otherness-es", who struggle day in and day out, who are feared for their otherness, disrespected and made invisible.  They are part of the oneness we all are living. They are our sons and mothers. They are an unrecognized brilliant facet of our whole.  We are a collective, we need to care, to include them, not shut them out. They, like we, are here for a reason, they have their part. As long as we look to blame guns (or on the other side's belief system, lack of personally held firearms), we need to look at the failure of us as a culture not taking responsibility for each other, the (community) illnesses suffered, the isolation and marginalization of our neighbors.

Belief

Sometimes we remember singular, stick-to-your-bones things about an endeavor.  One of the stand-out learning modules in my MA program in Integrative Health and Healing at