Living Our Values

Though I admit I'm biased, I must say there is a lot I like and respect about Unitarian Universalism. Lately though, what I've been reflecting on most is the  slogan: "living our values."

My son recently graduated from Kindergarten. And in his classroom, right next to the noble placing of the American flag, was a poster of The Golden Rule.  Do you remember this one? It goes like this: "Treat others the way you wish to be treated." 

Most us know some version of this ethic of reciprocity because it is ancient and found in all the world's major religions, philosophies and cultures. Long before it was named "The Golden Rule" in 17th century Europe, peoples in Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and the Roman Empire, among others, had some version of this virtuous way of being and living. 

To name a few:

Confucianism: Never impose on others what you would not choose for yourself.

Judaism: What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. 

Christianity: Love your neighbor as you love yourself. 

Hinduism: One should never do that to another which one regards as injurious to one's own self. 

Islam: As you would have people do to you, do to them, and what you dislike to be done to you, don't do to them.

Usually this one is a no-brainer for me because it is congruent with my values. But every so often, following The Golden Rule in my interactions with others is easier said than done. 

For example, when someone, consciously or unconsciously,  repeatedly treats me or others poorly. During moments like these it becomes increasingly difficult to stay the course with The Golden Rule.  In fact, it is surprisingly easy to dessert my own values in a moment of righteous indignation.  Because, though it is paradoxically also referred to the ethic of reciprocity, some of us can be selective about when and with whom to live our values through The Golden Rule. That way, when the other person or group is not reciprocating, it can feel oh-so-easy to say "well, if s/he is going to be cruel or mean, then s/he doesn't deserve my kindness or decency." Meritocracy trumps ethics in this case, and we tend to feel pretty righteous about it. 

Though as the seconds turn to minutes turn to hours, it starts to not to feel as good. And that is the exact moment that we call a particularly hot tempered friend who we then can tell our story to, and we know they will take "our side" and tell us how right we were- which is to say, how right we were to indulge our anger. 

But who am I? These are my difficulties living my values in a very blessed life that is without the direct impact of the horrors and atrocities of our shared human history of slavery, genocide, civil war, human trafficking, sexual violence, and the oppressive governments that restrict basic freedoms and human rights. Folks who have been victimized by these types of trauma could arguably have every reason to withhold their decency from those who have perpetrated the aggression and violence against them. 

But, miraculously, some don't. Or if they do, and they are anything like me, invariably, following these moments of ethical desertion they feel  depleted and disheartened. For me it is not because I am comparing my missed opportunities for compassionate action to those mountains above next to my mere molehills. Rather because, even though the short term rush of "I'm right!" can feel powerful and even good in the moment, it never feels good in the long term. Regret that I did not hold true to my Self (capital S) in the face of my self (lower case) does not make for a good night's rest.  Because when I choose to not live my values it becomes an abandonment of Self.  If I abandon my core essence or soul when the moment of crisis calls, it will never end well- no matter what behavior I am trying to rationalize or  justify in the angry or hurtful moment. 

Sometimes though, I can tell myself that I am living my values because I am standing tall and strong with integrity by outwardly not behaving defensively or in a hurtful manner to the other who is attacking or on the offensive, but really inside I am still clinging to my righteous stance by internally gnawing on all kinds of quiet judgments against them.  And I can tell you, the latter is just as unhelpful as the former. Sure, outwardly I might maintain my relationships and avoid burning bridges. But inwardly this is a sure fire way to build up layers upon layers of bitterness and resentment. Not exactly the way to serenity or enlightenment. 

But I don't think I'm alone here. How many of you have ever been in a yoga class or a church sermon and been challenged by the teacher or preacher to treat your exhusband or exwife with the same decency that one shows common strangers or fellow students and congregants? When you are pushed to maintain the same basic kindness for the jerk who just grabbed the parking spot you were about to pull into at the grocery store; the same one who even gave you the middle finger while they were doing it?  

 

I have a theory that  times such as these are the very reason the Dalai Lama says repeatedly "Kindness is my religion."  It's not because kindness is a soft or weak response to adversity.  As a refugee himself from Tibet, I think he might say that kindness, the very basis of The Golden Rule, is our greatest challenge or spiritual task, as individuals and as a human species.  One that has both personal and collective consequences if we cannot prioritize and master this task in the near future. 

This is why we need to take the path of the warrior. Read any book by American Buddhist nun and author Pema Chodron and you will learn a little bit about an idea in Tibetan Buddhism that refers to this kind of Golden-Rule-compassionate-mind-nonviolent-training as that of a "warrior."  I love this use of the word "warrior" because it reminds me of all the groups throughout history who have reclaimed, and thereby defused, words that had been previously meant to harm. 

Sometimes I can get down on myself when I am challenged by my urges to take the easier path of judgment and attacking rather than American poet Robert Frost's "road less traveled by." But then I remember the modern day all-star team of warriors like the Dalai Lama, Aung San Suu Kyi, Mahatma Gandhi, Rigoberta Menchu, Jean Vanier, Thich Nhat Hanh, Cesar Chavez, Mother Theresa, Nelson Mandela, and Dr. Martin Luther King.  I remind myself that this compassionate warrior training stuff is hard core- by no means for the faint hearted or, to reclaim another word, "sissies." Being responsive rather than reactive in the face of "the enemy" (whoever or whatever that may be) requires some very heavy lifting which means daily weight and strength training is absolutely essential. 

I sometimes imagine it as the dramatic Navy Seals training as depicted in the Oh-So-Hollywood style of Demi Moore in the movie "G.I. Jane." To be sure the analogy of a buff body is totally concrete, but when I am standing strong in the asana Warrior II pose during my yoga practice I develop a body memory, a cellular memory, of the kind of compassionate warrior training that I want to nurture and cultivate so that when the time comes to practice The Golden Rule in one of those grocery-store-parking-lot-type moments, I am ready. 

Because let's face it, it can be hard out there. The reality is there are a number of people who are unkind and a handful who are downright cruel. And though we are told everything we need to know in life we learned in kindergarten, including The Golden Rule, I find if we don't use it, we lose it. So to maintain a nonviolent warrior stance in all of  our activities requires daily compassionate mind training which for me includes one or more of the following practices: prayer, yoga, meditation, spiritual reading, soulful music, sermons, dharma talks, surrounding myself with inspiring men, women and children, and play. 

And so I wonder, how do you hold fast to live your values in the face of aggression? How do you maintain a nonviolent stance?