Pacem in Terris

See my post on the 50th anniversary of Pacem in Terris at the new Beyond Dogma site.  And remember - bookmark and return to the new site for updates.

http://claywilliams.net/beyonddogma/2013/4/12/pacem-in-terris

Beyond Dogma is moving!

Dear Readers --

I've created a new personal website that centralizes my blog with my other work in science and spirituality. The website www.beyonddogma.net will point to this new blog, and all new entries will be posted there.  I know that some of you have subscribed here, so please update any pointers to the new blog.

If you use an RSS feed to stay informed of entries, here is a feed link to the new site:
feed://clay-williams.squarespace.com/beyonddogma?format=rss

Thank you for reading, and please keep coming back to the new site!

- Clay

Speaking about God

In his novel on the life of Saint Francis, Nikos Kazantzakis recounts the story of Francis coming upon an almond tree in midwinter.  He says to the tree, "Sister, speak to me about God," and the almond tree bursts into blossom.  This blooming, the bringing forth of new life within a bleak and barren winter landscape, is a metaphor that illustrates what all right speech about God does.  First, it recognizes the relatedness of all creation.  Saint Francis addresses the almond tree as his sister.  Second, it calls forth life in those who hear it, even in the midst of bleak and difficult situations.  Francis' invitation to the tree causes it to bloom.  And the tree's answer to Francis is beautiful and inspiring.  Notice that the great saint does not preach to the tree, telling it what he thinks about God.  He invites the tree to share its understanding of God, and it does so in a way perfectly suited to its nature. 

As wonderful as this example is, speaking about God is dangerous business.  A lot is said about, and for, God by people of all political and religious persuasions, and much of what is said creates confusion and suffering.  It is easy to use language about God as a kind of bludgeon, a tool to dominate those who differ from us in their views.  This leads to two terrible outcomes.  First, both those who speak and those who are attacked with aggressive "God language" are spiritually damaged, and any possibility of relationship between them becomes extraordinarily challenging.  Second, we hamstring our ability to address profound challenges where spirituality could be helpful.  Once we make God into an object of domination (a form of idolatry), we can no longer speak about the Divine in times of extraordinary need without facing cognitive dissonance and the risk of tripping into hypocrisy. 

In Zen, we are told not to confuse the finger pointing at the moon with the moon.  Language and concepts are often barriers to the realization of enlightenment, which is a direct encounter with reality itself.  This encounter occurs not through study or discussion, but through practicing awareness of the present moment.  The Reality of God is encountered the same way, through the practice of deep contemplation where we find the love and compassion that then infuses the reality of our relationships.  At that point, we are blossoming with life for those with whom we are connected, and we invite the same from them.  

photo credit: pizzodisevo, slowly i will recover via photopin cc

Goodness vs. Purity

Photo by Wade M.  Used under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic License

How we understand virtue determines how we see and treat each other.  Goodness and purity are distinct but related ways to understand virtue.  Which one we emphasize deeply affects our view of others and of moral behavior.

When we talk about a good person, we are usually referring to someone who demonstrates properties such as kindness, fairness, love, honesty, and so on.  When we talk about someone being pure, we usually mean freedom from vice, sexual immorality, and the like.  A view of someone as good typically depends on how they treat others, while a view of someone as pure depends on how they maintain their own emotional, psychological, and physical state.   There is a deep connection between the two, and when it is lost, the meaning of virtue is distorted.  

I believe that our society currently places a disproportionate emphasis on purity as the basis for a virtuous life.  When this happens, the results are always tragic.  The quest to remain pure causes us to move away from one another, shunning those on the margins and most in need.  Having some success in our quest to remain pure leads to a toxic cycle.  Feeling more pure feeds our ego, and simultaneously leads to seeing an increasing swath of our sisters and brothers as impure.   The result is disconnection, desolation, and despair.  

Understanding virtue from the perspective of goodness works the other way.  Those on the margins and most in need are not impediments to virtue, but vital to its practice.  The way we treat them is part of what makes us good.  Again, some success in our quest leads to a cycle, but this one is positive and contagious.  When we treat others well, they begin to feel loved, and to love.  The result is connection, community, and courage.  

Yet ultimately, goodness and purity are neither separate nor strangers.  The connection between purity and goodness is found in the heart.  A pure heart is free of delusion, aggression, and greed. The pure heart sees situations with clarity, and responds with openness and generosity.

Understanding this connection, we can see that moral virtue consists of two things: (1) cultivating purity of heart (which I will discuss in a future post) and (2) taking action in the world from a connection with our pure heart.  These two practices are the basis for the radical change we require, and they lead to naturally taking deep care of ourselves and providing care and comfort to a world in need.  

The Case for Radical Change

Created for NASA by Space Telescope Science Institute, or for ESA by the Hubble European Space Agency Information Centre. Copyright statement at hubblesite.org

The earth and human society are perched on the precipice of disaster.  Our economic, political, and religious institutions are malfunctioning at the very time that we are in need of coordinated collective action to address global challenges.  I believe that we need a radical change in the questions we ask, the way we view and organize our institutions, and how we relate to ourselves and one another.  Over the next few weeks, I plan to write a series of entries that explore ideas about both our problems and potential solutions that we can use to address them.  Topics that I will discuss include goodness vs. purity, sustainability vs. greed, and pragmatism vs. ideology.  I hope you will join the conversation.

Hidden Spring Haiku

California Buckeye Bud & Raindrop (Ingrid Taylar) / CC BY 2.0

Some trees are budding

Some still look barren yet hold

The wonder of Spring

Seeking Simplicity

Darren Lwyd through the window by ceridwen

In a New York Times opinion piece published just before the New Year, essayist Pico Iyer discusses the challenges of living in an "always on" culture, with the average American spending over 8 hours per day in front of the screen of some type of device (no, the irony isn't lost on me as I type this entry on my laptop.)  Digital devices are ubiquitous.  We have smart phones, e-readers, tablets, laptops, and desktops.  We email, share on Facebook, blog, text, "hangout" on Google+, tweet, and post to YouTube.

I find that keeping up with my myriad channels of communication can sometimes seem like a chore, and in certain moments, my interactions become fast, shallow, and unsatisfying.  I'm not alone in recognizing the challenges of living in highly connected, fast moving technological times.  The Wisdom 2.0 series of conferences brings Silicon Valley leaders together with major thinkers and leaders in the mindfulness  traditions to discuss how to live with awareness, wisdom, and compassion in a technological age.  

In a face-to-face conversation with a friend, I came to realize that one answer to starting to live with awareness, compassion, and some sanity was hidden in plain sight.  I was missing it because I had fallen  for our current cultural notion that "more is better."  I've been seeking to simplify my life by adding more things to it, which has the opposite effect.  When my friend stated bluntly that whenever he acquires something new (either an object or a commitment), he finds something else to let go of, it made perfect, shocking sense.  I've been packing my life with more stuff and I wasn't letting anything go. 

Wednesday, February 22 is Ash Wednesday, which marks the beginning of the Christian season of Lent.  I've already begun what will be my spiritual practice during this season, which is clearing my life.  I'm getting rid of physical objects that clutter my space by giving clothes and other items to charitable organizations.  I'm also seeking to identify the commitments I can give up or pare back, and I'm thinking very carefully before taking on any new discretionary commitments.  I'm hoping this will give me some space and time to engage my life more deeply.  I'll report back to my readers near the end of Lent and let you all know how it has been going.  

Nature and Not-Knowing

Photo by NASA Goddard.  Used under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 (Generic)

Not knowing is most intimate.  - Zen Master Dizang

I woke up this morning to good news.  The power is still on, the water is running, and the eye of Hurricane Irene is moving over NYC.  We will have high winds behind the eye, but the worst of the rain is nearly over.  Although the television news indicates that the city is dealing with some serious problems caused by the hurricane (with continued worries about the rising East River), it appears that the city has largely avoided the worst of what we feared could happen.  

One temptation when the worst case scenario doesn't materialize is to assume a critical or ironic stance.  We can take an almost accusatory tone, discussing the overreaction by the authorities, the inconvenience it caused us, and how we knew it wasn't going to be that big of a deal.  I think this type of reaction is actually an emotional release, born from relieved fears.  

The truth is that we didn't know what would happen.  There is very little data on a how the waters surrounding NYC behave during a direct hit by a hurricane (there is more now!), so the computer simulations were very uncertain.  Our leaders made the decision to look at the worst case models and prepare for what would happen should those scenarios materialize.  They are to be commended for this, and we can all be grateful that the impact of the storm on the city wasn't as bad as it could have been.  

Supporting a Good Cause

This is my third year riding Braking the Cycle.  The ride goes from Boston to NYC in 3 days, covering close to 300 miles.  

This year my ride preparation has gotten off to a rockier start than in prior years. A new position at work, personal and work travel, and a nasty summer cold have curtailed my ability to train. I'm also behind on my fundraising. In spite of these challenges, I've set and am keeping am ambitious goal: I want to raise almost 50% more for HIV/AIDS services than I have in prior years. My goal is $10,000. Several people on the ride have already raised more than $20,000, so I know that with your help I can do this. 

I'm setting this ambitious goal because the challenges that I face in preparing for the ride pale in comparison with the challenges facing a community at risk and the organizations trying to address their needs. The economic situation and austerity budgets at both the federal and state level are having dire consequences for the budgets of AIDS Service Organizations nationwide. New York City has an incredible caseload - our numbers exceed the combined totals of Los Angeles, Chicago, and San Francisco. The money you give will go to programs that provide HIV/AIDS prevention and care at the LGBT Center of New York. These programs are lifelines for many New Yorkers. 

Please sponsor me by making a tax-deductible donation, and please be as generous as you can. It will save lives. 

All you have to do is click on this link, and enter your billing information. Whether it's $10, $100, or $1000, every penny will help a person living with HIV or AIDS.

With your generosity, I know I can reach my goal of $10,000. 

Thank you for your support.

Liberty and Justice for All

Below is an open letter that I wrote to New York State Senator Greg Ball upon learning that he decided to vote no on gay marriage.   He was considered a swing vote, so this is a setback.

Dear Senator Ball --

I'm not one of your constituents, but I'm writing you anyway because your actions affect have a profound effect on my well-being and happiness as a resident of New York State.

I am a hard working New Yorker.  I pay taxes (which pay your salary) and I contribute to my church and several charities.  I am also a gay man in a 15 year committed relationship with a man I love and want to marry.  I have advanced degrees in science and theology, so I am intimately familiar with the most current scientific research on homosexuality, as well as with the passages being cited to justify continued discrimination against LGBT people.  I can state without equivocation that the evidence continues to mount against a narrow-minded and bigoted understanding of the LGBT experience.  To be blunt, you are on the wrong side of history.

The United States of America is a country based on the ideals of justice and liberty.  For me, this means that I should not be allowed to interfere with the private lives of my fellow citizens, including those who happen to be fundamentalists or extremely conservative in their views.  They should be allowed to worship as they see fit, and marry the person they love. But the notions of liberty and justice demand that I be offered the same freedom.  There is no rational argument that can deny that fairness requires that I be treated with the same dignity and respect as my fellow citizens.

I am deeply disappointed in you for voting no.  I hope you can reflect on the mistake you are making, and I hope you feel a sense of shame in denying so many New Yorkers the basic joy that comes from living a life married to the person that they love.

In closing, you should realize that I and many of my friends will do everything we can to defeat you in your next bid for re-election.  I may not be a constituent, but I will make substantial contributions to your opponent, and will organize others to do the same.

Sincerely yours,

Clay Williams, PhD

Cycling Shamans

Today is Positive Pedalers (Pos Peds) Day. We are a group of men and women living with HIV/AIDS who are committed to eliminating stigma through our positive public example.  Today we recognize the courage and contributions that Pos Peds and our supporters have made to our communities.  A recent partial survey of Pos Peds nationwide demonstrated the amazing impact this group has had.  Eighty-nine people (out of several hundred Pos Peds) have responded to the survey at the time of this blog posting.  Collectively, these people had ridden in 451 AIDS cycling events and had raised $2,495,509 for AIDS-related prevention and treatment services in their communities.

For me, a potent (but partial) symbol for what Pos Peds do is the archetype of the wounded healer, which originated in Greek mythology and was brought into modern usage by Carl Jung and Henri Nouwen. Wounded healers take their own suffering and vulnerability and transform it into the power to heal others.  Through our own experience of HIV, we find the courage to ride to ensure that effective prevention and treatment are available to those in need.  What the wounded healer archetype doesn't describe is the transformation that the rider undergoes in this process, discovering new strength and vitality.

Happy Pos Peds day to all HIV-positive cyclists and their supporters.  You are all an inspiration.  Ride on!

Authentic Sprituality

I grew up in a small town where Christian fundamentalism was one of the predominant religious modes.  In this approach to religion, there is a strong tendency to divide the world into "us" and "them."  If you aren't in the "us" category, you are viewed with suspicion, subjected to pressure to change to join the "us" camp, and if you are unwilling or unable to do so, you are rejected.  I've experienced the pain that this worldview causes, both personally and in relationship with people I've known and loved.  

I believe that fundamentalism and other forms of exclusivism must be named as one of the great spiritual lies of our time.  A basic test for the authenticity of any spirituality is how it views those of differing belief. Authentic teachings will treat people with dignity and respect, and will not view them as deficient based on their difference.  I suspect that fundamentalists will howl in disagreement at this suggestion, pointing to narrow passages of scripture that appear to reinforce the exclusive approach, but there is a deeper and broader thread in almost every religious tradition that supports my position.  An example from Christianity is Jesus' interaction with and teachings using Samaritans, the ostracized others of his day.  

Authentic spiritual teachings challenge us, calling us to transcend our limited and harmful views of the world.  Exclusivism fails to do this.  It enables us to feel comfortable with ourselves while judging or condemning others.  A spirituality that is inclusive is challenging, calling us to take the time to get to know and understand others, rather than trying to force them into an "us" shaped mold.  

On the Eve of a Shutdown

It appears we are headed for a shutdown of the Federal Government. I believe that much more is at stake than how much we trim the deficit. If the far right has their way, we will face an America in which the table is sharply slanted toward the wealthy, allowing them to rake money into their pockets at will. This is evident once you realize that Republican Paul Ryan has proposed a tax cut in his long-term plan to reduce the deficit. His plan would benefit high income earners a great deal, even as it would gut Medicare and Medicaid, placing a deeper burden on retirees and the poor.

It seems we never learn from history. We need three things to balance the budget:

• An increase in revenue, fueled by modest and reasonable tax increases on the wealthiest Americans
• Prudent reductions in federal spending that don't unduly affect the vulnerable
• Policies to create a vibrant and sustainable economy

An analysis by the Center for American Progress shows how increasing revenue and growing the economy are essential for balancing a budget, and how this worked during the Clinton administration. Let's try it again.

Thoughts on a Sunday Morning

There is an indescribable depth to life. It can be felt, but not discussed. It is beyond words. For most of us, it remains hidden in plain sight. Awareness of the depth of life must be earned, but not the way we earn money or a reward. It is more like grace (maybe they are the same?), where the process of earning it is a process of acceptance.

We all have glimpses of this depth, but we spend most of our lives being pulled away from it. My glimpses have always been catalyzed by things that have nothing to do with the getting and spending of the world: reading a poem over a cup of tea, a walk through a pristine wilderness landscape, a heartfelt conversation with someone I love, swimming in the ocean.

The common thread that ties these things together is wholeheartedness. A swim in the ocean while thinking about a project won't cut it. Listening to a friend while texting someone else won't do. Walking through the wilderness with my iPod on shuts it down. Giving what I'm doing only a portion of my attention keeps me at the surface of life. Depth requires our full attention, and the risk of commitment.

World AIDS Day Haiku

rain against window

gray clouds roll across the sky

meditate on loss

Giving Thanks

My childhood Thanksgivings were full of anticipation, excitement, and family. I grew up in Farwell, Texas, a small town on the New Mexico border. My childhood home was less than two blocks from my that of my paternal grandparents, and the town was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins.

The anticipatory fever for Thanksgiving would start a week or two before the actual holiday. It was catalyzed by my father, who would begin talking about the Macy's parade, turkey, and my grandmother's unbelievable cornbread dressing. He would ask, "Are you ready for some dressing?" or say, "I think we need to see some of those giant balloons. Did you know that it takes 20 people to hold one down?" He was clearly looking forward to the holiday, and especially to seeing it through the eyes of his kids.

But it wasn't only talk that excited me. My grandparents were known as Bonnie and Pappy, and on my near daily bicycle trips to their house, I would encounter the physical preparations that let me know that the holiday was approaching. After making me a Dr. Pepper float, Bonnie would tell me what she was making, or show me the early components that would become our Thanksgiving feast. The excitement would grow as I saw cornbread drying to become the base for the dressing, or her homemade pie crusts, full of flaky goodness. And even though she had major amounts of cooking to do in the days ahead, Bonnie would find time to make a pan of gingerbread with me, which she, Pappy, and I would eat warm from the oven with pats of sweet butter.

I would awaken with excitement Thanksgiving morning, charge into the family den, and turn on the television. We would watch the long anticipated Thanksgiving day parade, and my father would exclaim about the difficulty of wrangling the balloons with each one that made its ways down the route. I loved it, but was always a little worried about the people in the parade being cold.

The actual meal was always at Bonnie and Pappy's house, and was always at noon. My mom, dad, sister Deana, and I would head down the block (driving in the car!), where we would meet up with my Uncle Elmer, Aunt Peggy, and cousins Deb, Greg, Brett, Kevin and Amy. Bonnie would be cooking away and expressing a low level of anxiety, which was totally unnecessary given her kitchen skills. Pappy would tell stories, play games, and joke with all of us kids.

Finally, the moment would arrive - it was time to eat. The family filled up three tables, one big one for adults, and two smaller ones for the kids. However, there was always an argument among the adults about who could go and sit at a kid's table. They weren't outposts, they were where the real fun was. We would eat and eat, devouring platefuls of Bonnie's succulent turkey, savory dressing, sweet candied yams, and green beans that were saved from being a boring vegetable by a little bit of bacon. After we thought we couldn't eat anymore, it was time for pie: pumpkin, lemon meringue, and chocolate were always among the choices. After lunch, we would help clean up and then head for home, where the agenda was napping and watching football. We would all meet up again at Bonnie and Pappy's around 6pm for a second meal of leftovers.

This year I lost my dad, which makes these memories especially poignant. I realize just how lucky I am, and how special my childhood was. I had parents who found delight in recognizing and amplifying the things that delighted their kids, and grandparents who found loving and spoiling their grandchildren to be a higher calling. I had caring aunts and uncles, and cousins who were ready pals and playmates. Today I am lucky to have my loving partner David (and his marvelous family), my sister Deana, my wonderful nieces (Lacy, Anna, and Maddie) and nephews (Don, Will, and Edwin), and a remarkable collection of relatives and friends. They all continue to fill my life with light and love.

I grew up knowing that I was loved by and important to many people, and that has made all of the difference. On this Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful for this legacy, and I hope to express my gratitude by reflecting the same loving attitude into the lives of my own family and friends.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Accountability, Action, and Access

Below is an open letter to the leadership of the Human Rights Campaign (HRC), the nation's largest lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) rights organization, over a rift with the much smaller Servicemembers United organization. Servicemembers United is dedicating to ending the Don't Ask Don't Tell (DADT) ban on openly LGBT people serving in the military.

It seems to me that HRC is seeking to further their own access and prestige. This has been a repeated problem with the organization, but it is a particularly mercenary end in these treacherous times for LGBT folk.

To Joe Solmonese, Brian Ellner, and the staff of the HRC --

I let my membership in HRC lapse in 1998 after the mishandling of the endorsements in NY State when Charles Schumer was running against Al D'Amato. HRC worked against the good of the state and the wishes of our own very effective LGBT rights organization, which astounded and disgusted me. I wrote a detailed complaint letter at that time, and received nothing but silence from your organization. This really affected me, and I put my contributions and energy into other organizations, including serving as co-chair for three of the New York Leadership Awards dinners for the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force.

Recently, I considered renewing. I thought the Facebook campaign on National Coming Out Day was interesting, and was thinking about giving the organization a second chance. I am the type of donor that HRC builds much of their movement on. I am a successful professional, and a consistent donor who is connected to other individuals in NYC and beyond who actively give to organizations pursuing LGBT equality. I have been active in both personal giving and in securing corporate donations for other organizations. I have worked with or donated to several organizations, including the Empire State Pride Agenda, Lambda Legal, and the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force.

Today, a friend on Facebook made me aware of the recent rift between HRC and Servicemembers United. It seems that HRC never learns. You have a strong brand and could do so much good, but you squander your brand and the limited funds of our community. As an organization, you continue to be mediocre in your effectiveness, which we cannot afford at this pivotal time in our movement. An amazing example of this is your completely inexplicable disdain of the anger being express by Servicemembers United regarding the painfully slow progress being made on DADT. Don't forget that we were assured after the Obama victory that repealing DADT would be a priority and that it would likely be gone by the end of 2009. Here we are nearing the end of 2010, and the repeal has still yet to happen and soldiers are still being discharged. The administration has issued no stop loss order, and to my mind has taken no aggressive action on behalf of lesbian and gay solders.

Tonight, the Obama administration announce that they were appealing the decision of Judge Phillips. They state that they want to see DADT repealed, but that they have to let the process unfold through the proper legal channels and processes. We've had enough words and need forceful action by the President. I must confess that I'm disappointed in both the administration and HRC, but not surprised.

As a result of this, I will not be joining HRC. Instead, I will contribute to organizations that are responsive to the needs of our community, work actively to build bridges between the various organizations fighting the good fight within our movement, and who are willing to take on the hard battles when necessary.

Please remove me from your email and postal mailing lists.

Dear readers: please consider joining me in placing our funds where they can be more useful. If you give to HRC, consider stopping, and if not, don't start. Let HRC know of your displeasure. Please feel free to forward this entry to anyone in the community as you see fit.

Sincerely,

Clay Williams

Difficult Things

"If you ask me what I came into this world to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud." -- Emile Zola

One of the challenges of life is deciding who to trust with information that is sensitive or personal. We all have a history, and our stories can be quite profound. The episodes in our life that point to mistakes or problems can make us feel incredibly vulnerable. Yet they also are a source of enormous power. Handling them wisely can provide deep healing for past wounds, and handling them unskillfully can lead to loneliness or painful exposure. I have given much thought to whether and when I should share the pivotal story in my own journey through life, and have decided that now is the time.

This decision has been brewing for a while, and it crystallized during my September 17 training ride for Braking the Cycle, the annual bike ride from Boston to NYC to raise money for HIV/AIDS prevention and services. The late afternoon was cool and autumnal. The sky was remarkably blue, but dappled with low hanging gray clouds. These weren't rain clouds, but something simpler and friendlier. There was a brisk wind from the northeast, and the Hudson River looked like mercury, rising and falling in gorgeous silver choppy waves. The bike path and West Side Highway were eerily quiet, in spite of people and some traffic. Somehow, riding a bike in the midst of Manhattan, I was experiencing solitude. Within me, something rose up, something at once joyful and sorrowful. Yet the joy did not feel giddy, nor the sorrow unpleasant. I was riding strong, ready for the challenge to occur in the next week, doing something difficult but finding it relatively easy. It was a collision, as I came face-to-face with myself as I am, and found that there was no shame or regret in the encounter, but something tender and loving.

In that moment, I knew that I was ready to disclose the fact that I am living with HIV. Not that I hadn't disclosed my status before. I have been disclosing this since my diagnosis in 1991, but those disclosures were private, controlled choices. Somehow and for some reason, I knew that it was time to take a bolder step.

The basic story is simple. I found out that I was HIV-positive in 1991, although I was probably infected in the early 1980s. The week I was diagnosed, Magic Johnson was also diagnosed, and the media frenzy that ensued, and the conversations that I overheard, amplified my own challenges. I began treatment almost right away, but unfortunately, we didn't understand the medications and viral resistance very well, and my virus became highly resistant to commonly used medications. I completed my graduate work and moved to New York City in 1994. I loved living in New York, but my health continued to deteriorate due to uncontrolled HIV replication. No matter what we tried, the virus eluded treatment. I watched as my immune function gradually deteriorated, hoping with each new medication that came on the market that this would be the one. Finally, in what was essentially an act of desperation, I enrolled in a clinical trial in 2004, coupling a novel new medicine with an already available, but difficult to manage, injectable medication. Within two weeks the virus was undetectable in blood samples, and my immune system began to rebuild. Today, I am on a simpler regimen (no injections) that continues to work extremely well. My immune levels are normal, and my virus remains undetectable.

Why disclose now? The answer is complex, but a major factor is the transformative power I've experienced in doing and training for the Braking the Cycle bike ride. In my first ride last year, I made the decision to ride publicly as a person with HIV. I took the Positive Pedalers flag and placed it on my bike, announcing to all who knew the meaning that I was one of the positive riders. For three days, I received nothing but love and support from my fellow riders and the crew. This experience planted a seed, a suspicion that being public about my HIV status could be liberating and healing. This seed sprouted over the past year, and blossomed into full bloom as I rode my recent training ride along the river.

What the riders and crew do on Braking the Cycle is a difficult, challenging, and remarkable thing. Yet we find great comfort and meaning in doing it. Not shying away from the challenge, heading directly into something serious, silly, and strange, and finding solace and healing in the experience is both instructive and transformational. The hurdles that we encounter in life are essential to the path. They are opportunities to grow stronger and wiser. Shying away from difficulties is diminishment; embracing them is the way. It is scary, and it takes courage, but I've come to the conclusion that it is worth the risk.

-----------------------------------------
A footnote: there are family members, friends, and colleagues who will learn of my status by reading this. I regret that I'm not disclosing this information to you personally in a more intimate face-to-face setting, but after wrestling with the challenge of how to do that with what is a large number of people, I realized that I needed to just jump in with both feet. Please know that I will be happy to talk about it. An easy opener to the conversation is simply to say, "I saw your blog post."

Tuesday Haiku - July 13, 2010

oft walked canyon rim
tears for mom mingled with rain
what eroded you?

Radical Wishing

All people want to be happy. This is one of the common threads that bind us together. Yet many of us unwittingly predicate our own happiness on the unhappiness of others.

How do we seek the unhappiness of others? Win/lose thinking is the culprit. "For me to be happy, I need to win, and you need to lose," is the pervasive belief that places us on a treadmill to nowhere. We see it in sports, the "who's hot, who's not" celebrity gossip filling our media, competition at work, our economic and political systems, and even the competition among religions for adherents.

What if we realized that this mode of living was a guarantee that we will be involved in never-ending conflict, with occasionally satisfying "victories" but no lasting happiness? Imagine how it would change the world if instead we learned to hold our own views without believing we had discovered the only way to live. Imagine what could happen if we recognized that the people with whom we disagree are also seeking happiness. Imagine if we began to seek ways for others to have their happiness without sacrificing our own. Admittedly, this will require some creativity, but getting out of the win/lose mindset and giving it a shot seems worthwhile at this critical juncture for our world.

The ramifications could be enormous. The need for conflict and war would evaporate. Happiness would cease to be something we were in endless (but fruitless) pursuit of and become something real that we all reflect in the world.

Imagine if we could recite the Buddhist prayer known as the Four Immeasurables, and really mean it for all beings, understanding that if they find their true happiness, we will find ours as well.

May all beings have happiness and the causes of happiness.
May all beings be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.
May all beings never be parted from freedom's true joy.
May all beings dwell in equanimity, free from attachment and aversion.