Beshallach | Opening into Faith

 

וַיַּ֨רְא יִשְׂרָאֵ֜ל אֶת־הַיָּ֣ד הַגְּדֹלָ֗ה אֲשֶׁ֨ר עָשָׂ֤ה יְהוָה֙ בְּמִצְרַ֔יִם וַיִּֽירְא֥וּ הָעָ֖ם אֶת־יְהוָ֑ה וַיַּֽאֲמִ֙ינוּ֙ בַּֽיהוָ֔ה וּבְמֹשֶׁ֖ה עַבְדּֽוֹ׃

And when the children of Israel saw the majestic power and glory which Eternally Present displayed to the Egyptians, the people felt awe before Eternally Present; they had trust in Eternally Present and the servant Moses.

Exodus 14:31 (Tr. adapted from Hasidic sources)

 

This week's Torah portion is the first retelling of the flight from Egypt, the crossing of the Reed Sea (aka Red Sea) and the entry into the wilderness. It is a story of a people’s escape from slavery, from a constricted place, represented in Torah as Egypt. Egypt represents a stuck place where people who stay loyal to constriction are subjected to plagues and suffering.

Torah takes us on a spiritual journey out of the all-too-familiar place of hardship and suffering into the unknown through moments of collective trust. It is the story of a mixed multitude of people who chose to acknowledge that the existing way of life was suffering and that there is a road to end the suffering.

In Torah, this place where life is stuck, the place constricted by suffering, is called Mitzrayim, the Hebrew word for Egypt. It is a place where the wealth is created by people who are enslaved. It is a place so powerful that it continues to beckon back even the enslaved.

The road, though, is perilous. And roundabout. There is no direct road out of suffering and the people on the journey are plagued with fear, doubt, anger and depression.

Today I noticed how I get pulled back into separation and despair when I face things that are disturbing to me.  When a dear friend suggested in a text that he is not going to get the Covid vaccine, I felt constriction in my belly. This is the experience of my inner Mitzrayim, the activation of a place of constriction. I let the tightness in my belly speak to me, I leaned in to hear it's cry. I took the time to feel sadness, hopelessness, and fear.

I am asking myself the question the Hasidic masters asked about the people who feared crossing the Reed Sea to leave Egypt: is it a fear of drowning or a fear of freedom? I realize I have intense fear about giving people the freedom to decide whether or not to take the vaccine. And I have perhaps a greater fear when I imagine a world where people are forced in anyway to let the state control decisions about their bodies.

I turn to a Nonviolent Communication mindfulness practice to bring me some clarity, to bring me into compassionate connection with my friend and myself, and to create space for empowering guidance to emerge.

The practice is called "the dance floors," a non-linear practice to be with and curious with the thoughts and needs that are held in the physical and emotional feelings.  I do a circle-like dance, moving from feelings to thoughts to needs, connecting with whichever arises and taking each deeply into my heart.

The feelings and thoughts represent beautiful dreams I have for the world, that we humans on beautiful planet Earth will not find our way out of suffering. Because, as the entire rest of the Torah illustrates, the way out is collective. We all must cross the Sea together, step together into the heart of the Sea, hold onto each other, as we face the overwhelm, the place where drowning happens.

I continue to be with my feelings and thoughts, into their messages to me. These thoughts are carrying so much that is precious and wise to me. And they also carry a constricted energy of right and wrong- I am right, he is wrong. Attachment to my own view. Dismissive of his views and experience. These are places of constriction.

How can I transform the constricted places and hold onto the trust and connection  to what is important to me?

 

וּבְנֵ֧י יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל הָלְכ֥וּ בַיַּבָּשָׁ֖ה בְּת֣וֹךְ הַיָּ֑ם וְהַמַּ֤יִם לָהֶם֙ חֹמָ֔ה מִֽימִינָ֖ם וּמִשְּׂמֹאלָֽם׃

And the children of Israel had marched through the sea on dry ground, the waters forming a wall for them on their right and on their left.

Exodus 14:29

What can bring me through the Reed Sea, across the sea of hopelessness and stuckness? How do I recognize my thoughts and the values they carry, as well as the places they represent — a stuckness that separates us, human from human?

As the Torah story continues, the women, led by neviah Miriam, prophetess Miriam, move into a circle dance, celebrating a new consciousness that has brought them across the Reed Sea and into the wilderness. This is a consciousness of inclusiveness and togetherness. Together we circle the challenges of life and dance through the obstacles.

Today, how do we shift to a new consciousness that gives rise to enough emuna, faith and trust in each other and in a way forward? When I realize how many people have different views about the vaccines, clearly a matter of life and death, can I move to a place of trusting that there is room for many approaches to health, to freedom, to beliefs and lifestyles? Can I even contemplate that? Let alone uphold choices I don't share?

My experience these days is that my heart stiffens when I hear of friends and neighbors declining the vaccine; this friend, who is near and dear to me.

What do I need to open my heart, so that I can open to hearing him and reconnecting as partners in bringing about the world I know we both are working toward.

The circle consciousness of the women's dance is one step away from dualistic linear thinking: either my way or your way; one of us is right and the other is wrong. We need communication that creates connection, safety and trust.

I begin with some inner preparation so I have the capacity for a communication that is most likely to connect and affect me. As Torah teaches, it is  the heart of Pharaoh-nature to be unaffected by other people's experiences. The heart of liberation, the journey to freedom, is a journey to expand the capacity of the heart to hear and be affected by what is happening around us. I'd love to hear what your practices are to prepare you for difficult conversations that lead to greater connection.

A Buddhist practice that opens the heart in this way is the practice of non-attachment to views. I myself have taken vows before my Buddhist teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh, to not attach to views. And at the same time, I remain deeply committed to caring for myself, the people around me and the world.

The paradox is to embrace both non-attachment to things going my way and staying fiercely committed to a world that is in harmony with my values.

I often turn to the Buddhist Bodhisattva vows to inspire me to stay committed to my ideals and vision of the world without attachment to claiming that my way is the "right" way or belittling the contribution of others who have a different way:

Here is one translation of the Bodhisattva vows:

CREATIONS ARE NUMBERLESS, I VOW TO FREE THEM.

DELUSIONS ARE INEXHAUSTIBLE, I VOW TO TRANSFORM THEM.

REALITY IS BOUNDLESS, I VOW TO PERCEIVE IT.

THE AWAKENED WAY IS UNSURPASSABLE, I VOW TO EMBODY IT.

Here are words from Joanne Friday, a friend and dharma teacher in Thich Nhat Hanh's lineage, about how the Buddhist practice of not knowing supported her in the moments after she was told she had cancer:

November 14
The Infinite Joy of Not Knowing

Receiving a call from a doctor telling me I had cancer, I immediately felt pure fear running like ice water through my veins.

Mindful that my brain was going off into fear and speculation, I breathed
and calmed myself.

Thich Nhat Hanh is my teacher. He always advises us to ask, "Are you sure?"

If we answer, "Yes," we need to check again. In the midst of one of the worst moments of my life, I found myself asking that question. The answer was, "No, I am not sure." This could be almost nothing or it could mean death. I didn't know. I immediately felt a deep peace.

All that I knew for sure was that I had that moment. I knew that every moment was precious and I did not intend to waste any of my remaining moments in fear and speculation.

That was three years ago, and I have discovered that the awareness that I don't know what even the next moment, let alone the next month or year, holds for me, leaves my life open to infinite possibilities for joy.

I am so grateful for the question, Are you sure?  It keeps me from projecting the worst and lets me stay in that nonthreatening, safe space of Not Knowing.

Another practice is a Nonviolent Communication practice that I turn to regularly. Like the practice of asking, "Are you sure," this practice invites me into curiosity and guides me into my body and the emotions, the fear and overwhelm I feel when I imagine people in my circle not taking the vaccine. I listen inside myself for the feelings and needs that arise. What is it that I am so yearning for in the world that one decision by one friend is so challenging for me to hear?

It's safety. Yes, safety. I want our world to be safe.

And there's more. I want connection, I want to understand what brings others to different decisions than mine. And from that connection and understanding, I want partnership in moving toward a safe and nonviolent world.

Connection and communication. I feel my breathing slow down and deepen as I connect with what is it that is so important to me.

A strategy, a plan of action emerges from the process.

I begin a communication with my friend, asking for a conversation to help me understand and connect to where he is coming from.

Here is how I communicated to my friend:

Text #1 from me:

I feel curious to understand and connect with how you are approaching the vaccine. I have deep respect for you and our capacity to have an NVC conversation. I'm not available for a day or so—would you be open to that in a few days?

His response:

(I'm waiting to hear if he is ok with me posting it here in its entirety.) He responded by sharing his personal and historical lack of trust for the medical system and his commitment to maintaining a healthy lifestyle for boosting the immune system.

Text # 2 from me:

Yes, all makes sense....I don't have a "but"; I do have an "and." About every single piece you wrote.

May I share what you wrote, anonymously? It is very relevant to what I am writing about, which is the source of faith, trust....how to have conversations when we are in harmony on the big picture and the needs, and perhaps not on the strategies....

His response:

He also sees that the vaccine is working to boost the immune system and doesn't have a problem with people choosing that route.

Text # 3 from me:

I am totally with you. I have a pretty strict regimen of immune boosting and so do my daughters. I'm also keeping a very healthy lifestyle in many ways. And I have been so disappointed from day one with Obama care because it encourages people to turn to Allopathic medicine. So once again of course we have layers of healthcare, completely framed by all sorts of privilege.

What are your practices to cross the raging seas of disconnection?

 

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A Poem to Cross the Sea

Open closed open.  Before we are born, everything is open
in the universe without us.  For as long as we live, everything is closed
within us.  And when we die, everything is open again.
Open closed open.  That’s all we are.

— Yehuda Amichai