In my individual political journey since encountering the Sanders revolution, certain experiences keep cropping up — not because of politics or political people but because of my own idiosyncratic responses to existence.
Except the experience I’m going to try to write about isn’t as idiosyncratic as I thought.
There’s a Tibetan Buddhist practice entitled Tonglen, where you imagine yourself taking in all sentient beings’ suffering on the inhale, and on the exhale imaginarily send out every good thing or experience you’ve ever had, you just give it away.
Well this experience isn’t Tonglen, so I luckily won’t have to coherently explain the practice. The link I provided is an explanation by Thrangu Rinpoche, btw, who is as cool and wowzville a spiritual master as Bernie is politically.
So going back to my quotidian experience which did not bring enlightenment, but only a slim measure of clarity and only when I really needed it.
I’d, say, have a negative thought, be down in the dumps about the amazing myriad of stupid decisions I’ve made in my life and bemoaning my chickens coming home to roost. Oy! It is painful! Especially when there’s an equal desire to help others but because I’m so busy trying to keep the chickens from metaphorically pecking me to death, I feel I can’t help anyone else.
That’s when this experience (for lack of a better word) arises and it’s directly influenced by trying consciously to remember the meaning of what Bernie has been saying all over the country, rather than the words.
To me, the meaning is that there’s a whole lot of other schlubs like me, I’m not the only one. And maybe I should feel closer to them, a sort of oddball solidarity.
Maybe some of my brothers and sisters haven’t been able to enter into the political process because they don’t believe they can. It seems overwhelming and insurmountable. And maybe it is, maybe it really is.
But thinking about them makes me realize I can do my own sort of single act, by contributing money to Bernie or writing a comment or diary or tweeting, or wearing my Bernie button on my jacket, hoping to reach someone who maybe needs some help — not to ask from them but to offer instead.
And if I’m feeling too miserable to do even that, I can just rest in awareness that I am not alone even when I feel weak or feel frightened, or feel helpless.
Doing that act of solidarity tends to reset my spirit, as it were, and although the pain doesn’t necessarily go away, the edge is no longer turned in my own direction.
There’s many different groups who find Bernie Sanders’ message appealing, that somehow it reaches them through all the troubles of the day.
There is a power in this, even as it seems very powerless, as I’m speaking of the most vulnerable people in this country. The workers, the children, the young adults, the elderly. While the money keeps pouring in to the oligarchy, the most vulnerable of the rest of us are suffering silently, never seen in the day to day of our lives.
It’s a true power to connect this way with others. It provides a kind of ballast in a very uncertain and muddy battle.
I hope as this primary season progresses, that power becomes greater as it’s something that includes everyone, that only grows stronger the more people draw from it. Compassion is a renewable resource indeed.
I’ve read many suggestions, some of them excellent, from other Sanders’ supporters, btw, which deal with the nuts and bolts of campaigning — how to use organizing tools to reach more people, how to tailor the phone banking to have more impact, etc.
I have no quarrel or criticism of any of those suggestions, but I’m sticking to the spirit of revolution, hasn’t steered me wrong yet.
Onward!