True presence is the only real compassion. How can we make the big guys more present?
I am reminded of that thin woman standing by the roadside where cars rush by so heavy and fast on the way to the highway. I have to buy a bag of groceries, stop my car and hold up the other traffic to pass it to her. Then I will have been present.
That is the real question. And that is also a huge problem. For it seems their Hearts have gone astray.
So the next question is: How to change hearts....
Well, I have some wishes.... But first consider this. (Because I suspect that to seek the "lost hearts" we need to make sure our own hearts are in the right place.)
"Purity of heart is to will one thing."We need to think on this. To ponder it. Over a long, long time. Because I suspect the answer is not something we can come up with once and for all. I think it grows on you. It changes over time. As you distill your answers down. Purifying them.
Leftyloosey has given us a start. So has DD:
When I was a kid I was constantly told thatSo how do we get the "big guys" (the very 'strong' people) to weep a little more? To ponder the "one thing necessary"? To open their hearts to what really matters?
LIFE IS NOT FAIR.
We should at least work, every day as best we can to make it fairer.
This all makes me weep a little.
That I can do so demonstrates that I am still alive.
Maybe what we need to do is approach some very 'strong' people and help them weep a little more.
Like Martin Luthor King "I have a dream." I envision all the King's horses and all the King's men.... well, you know what I mean... I envision all the big wigs (men, women), all the "movers and shakers" and the would-be leaders - civil, religious, you name it - I envision all of them somehow compelled or ideally choosing to go off to places where they remain in silence and solitude for maybe 10 days - each year. Pondering. Weeping. I picture these places as monasteries or other places of meditation. Places where they are exposed to men and women who choose to spend a lifetime in such places: pondering; meditating; holding the hearts of others in their own hearts - seeking to will that "one thing" that is purity of heart. Seeking Presence, Holy Mystery - whatever name you prefer. Something you could believe in. Trust in. Or wish you could - even if you doubt it.
Now lately I've had this feeling - more than once - that I am not meant to be on this earth. Don't panic here. I don't mean I'm suicidal. What I mean is that sometimes the woes and the sufferings, the greed and the lies, the wars, and the poverty and injustice just get to me. And the "distance" between what humanity could be - if we all got together to share our blessings - and where it's NOT.... is so great, I can hardly bear it. And my inner heart, like DD's, just weeps. Sometimes I can feel those tears just beneath the surface. And other times, yes... they come. I've had floods of tears at times. Presence and suffering enlarge your heart.
So my dream would entail at the very least placing the "big guys" where they might have to face their own hearts and ask themselves some questions. Maybe even weep. For what they've failed to do. And what they might do. And what others are going through. For I wouldn't just "place" them in silence and solitude, but I would make sure that every day, several times a day, they encountered real suffering people. People who suffer illness and want and disability. People who lack the money and prestige which insulate the "big guys" and prevent them from seeing, hearing, facing what drives some of us nuts because we just can't get the healing message through. And these suffering people would speak from their hearts!
I know this is pie in the sky. I know it.
A few days ago I ran across a chapter in a book I read a few years back. And this chapter spoke to my sense of estrangement. It told me that such experiences are akin to what Abraham felt when he was told to leave his land and go to a "place of promise". That anyone touched by Holy Mystery begins to feel like a foreigner or to have a sense of inner estrangement, the further they go on the "path of promise". That book has another chapter called, The loneliness of the just one, which speaks of this in a different way - based on the first Psalm, where "two ways" of life are compared. The way of the "just" is a lonely way, though "watered" by sacred texts (choose any tradition!) one ponders day and night. The way of the "wicked" is full of companions (mockers in bleachers, so to speak, laughing at the just ones, while urging the greedy crowd to lie and cheat and steal and murder). Really this is all saying the same thing: Even thousands of years ago, men pondered these questions. They suffered. They wept. They felt estranged from the world around them. They knew it could be different. They felt mocked by the Fox and internet Trolls of their day.
I find it oddly comforting to know that thousands of years ago, psalms were written expressing feelings and yearnings I have today. At the same time it almost brings you to despair! Thousands of years. And it's still the same....
So that, my friends, is why in some sense I have nothing more to say. And I have nothingness to say.
I'm pondering. I'm stuck in this place of estrangement. I'm choosing the lonely path. The only path I can choose: Heart Streams in Dry Land, I called it once. Trying to plant a few "seeds" - hoping they'll grow, wishing we could plant some more to get the "big guys" to be present. And to weep.