Critical Reflection

Rastafari, Zen and My Own Spirituality

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RastaBagLast semester I completed a Comparative Religious Ethics course, and my final project was a seminar paper comparing Buddhism and the Rastafari religion.  This is an odd comparison, but one that makes sense in my spiritual microcosm.  I am a striving (and mostly struggling) practitioner of Zen Buddhism, making it an obvious choice for the comparison. But, I have also taken an interest in Reggae music after randomly choosing a Reggae Internet radio station for calming background music. It has blossomed from background melodies to the forefront of my musical universe.  The soulful reggae melodies that I have grown to cherish are often accompanied by passionate lyrics celebrating the Rastafari culture, a movement that I knew nothing about.  An excerpt from my paper summarizes the origin of the Rastafari movement:

Born out of the slums of Jamaica in the 1930’s the religious and political movement played an important role in raising racial and anti-colonial consciousness in Jamaica.  The Rastafari movement is a powerful counteraction to the beliefs of the slave owners who proclaimed that African culture was inferior and that the country of Africa itself was an inferior territory; a “dark continent filled with uncivilized languages, cultures and custom.”  Rastafari is a religion fueled by resistance against oppression, exploitation and racial oppression, as well as a reclamation of black pride and African culture. With over a million practicing Rastafari’s throughout the world, the history and faith of this religion extends well behind the music, fashion and marijuana culture stereotype commonly accepted in American culture.

One of the many things that I respect about the culture is that the Rastafari lifestyle strives for harmony with the natural world. They believe in maintaining the purity of the body and harmony with nature through their rituals of diet, medicine and hygiene. I have always believed in the spirituality of nature, so this aspect of the culture speaks loudly to me. Our world is struggling under the duress of manmade complexities. And I do believe our salvation lies in nature. Any lifestyle that embraces a more natural way of living very much appeals to me. My happiness and inner peace has always been tied to my connectivity to nature.  This research was a pleasant reminder that I have been neglecting a natural remedy that has never failed to heal me.

My journey into the Rastafari religion has inspired me to look closely at my own spirituality.  It has inspired me to strengthen my commitment to Zen.  As a result I have been intensely disciplined about my daily zazen practice.  I have been incorporating a more natural way of living:  in my health, diet and through connectivity to nature. Zen and the Rastafari religion are similar as they both emphasize the individual pursuit to spirituality over that of the laws and structures of religion. With both Zen Buddhism and Rastafari, the journey to salvation begins and ends with the practitioner.  And the convergence of both cultures in my research forced me to look deeply into myself.  And I am better for it.

If you are interested in reading more on the research, my paper is available in its entirety on Research Gate.

And, you can also check out my Modern Reggae Jams playlist on Spotify to hear the songs that inspired my research…

Critical Reflection

The Middle of Everywhere

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PipherThe following narrative was written for my Literature of Displacement course.  It is an unpolished critical reflection piece on Mary Pipher’s book The Middle of Everywhere.  Pipher shares her experiences and relationship with refugee families that she has assisted as part of her work as a cultural broker.

Pipher’s biggest contribution to the advocacy of refugees is that she is able to humanize refugees, by crafting a narrative that provides a personal glimpse into their personalities and everyday lives. Her first-hand stories draw on themes that most can relate to: feelings of insecurity, struggles with finances, family issues etc.  Then, she extends the narrative to show how the barriers of language, unfamiliarity of the culture, post-traumatic stress of escaping war and lack of resources of a refugee complicates these relatable issues.

The fact that this humanization is required in this discussion is troublesome, considering one should not have to humanize those who are obviously human beings.  In American media and on the global political stage refugees are often presented as non-humans.  They are presented as a political situation, as mere statistics or as a collective entity that threatens American ideologies. “It is only when we strip the humanity from people – when we stop imagining them as being quite human like us – that our empathetic nature is eroded” (Owen Jones).  Our empathic nature is being intentionally numbed. This allows the powers that be to further their wars and unethical behaviors with less public opposition.

How does the empathy and compassion she evokes lead to action?  And, as privileged Americans do we have an ethic responsibility to assist in the success of refugees?  There is an enormous gap between the ideals expressed in The Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the actual achievement of what those rights allow.  Without guidance a non-English speaking refugee may not have knowledge, communication skills and transportation to seek out and fight for what these rights allow.   In most situations human rights are not attainable or applied fairly. Is it our ethic responsibility as fellow humans to bridge the gap between declared rights and attainment of what those rights offer?  I believe that we do have an ethical and social responsibility to our fellow human beings, but I understand that I am not the majority.  And making that argument to the masses proves to be difficult.

I believe that service to others, especially to those of diverse cultures, helps you to cultivate and solidify your beliefs and ethics.  It is achieved through comparison, through respect and removal of your comfort.  Your service to others shapes your inner self.   It is deeper than Karma and consequences. It is about expanding your knowledge of both yourself and others.  Pipher praises the resilience of successful refugees: what they had to endure to get to America and what they have to do to adapt to America. Their experiences shaped their inner selves.  And there is a lot we can learn from their journey by being a positive part of it.

 

Life

Family, Friends and Hurricane Irma

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Arriving home, after the storm.

Hurricane Irma tore through Florida this past week, and her slow moving menace gave Tampa Bay residents ample time to prepare for its impending doom. And wait. And worry. And watch it’s forecasted path pendulum swing east and west, as its projected intensity fluctuated between mild and devastating. Family, friends and myself rode a roller coaster of emotions for seven arduous days as we tried to predict our fate of this mutating natural disaster. We became amateur weather professionals, analyzing radar and weather maps, trying to find a glimmer of hope that our beautiful city would be spared direct impact of Irma’s wrath.

I was in a minor emotional funk at the time Irma entered my life. My wife and I were spending the majority of our free time with “fun” friends, not realizing we were neglecting the relationships with our true friends.  A disagreement with our fun friends* and another with a family member sent my psyche into a downward spiral. I was lost in own my head, feeling that I had no one close to me aside from my wife, our pugs and cats (and frankly the cats can be fickle companions). Although my funk was entirely self-constructed, my head and heart were in a bad state.

…And then Irma came into my life.

My friends and family came together to support each other, as we did our best to prepare for impact. We shared information about where to find supplies, how to secure our homes and communicated our evacuation plans. I received texts and messages from friends and family all over the country, wishing us well.

My wife Danielle and I spent time with our local friends and family, sharing our fears and anxiety about the devastation that we potentially faced. It is little moments that make life special. It is taco night, drinking at our local watering hole and family dinners that make me smile when I look back on that week. It may sound like we were celebrating. But, we were trying to keep our minds distracted from worrying about a situation that we have no control over. And we were enjoying our lives as they were at the moment, in case the storm brought unwanted change. I felt reconnected with the important people in my life, which lifted my emotional fog.

The storm was scheduled to arrive in Tampa Bay late Sunday night, and by Sunday morning the various weather forecasts arrived at a unanimous consensus that Tampa Bay would sustain a direct hit. Irma would remain a dangerous category 4 hurricane when she arrived for her rendezvous in Tampa Bay. Danielle and I spent the day doing the things we do on an average Sunday, attempting to establish normalcy, on the most abnormal of days. We had a nice dinner with my parents, who were hosting us for the storm. And then we all sat down to brace for impact. We toggled our energy between watching the news and doing things to avoid the news, all while sipping on wine to numb our anxiety. By bedtime, the storm brought the normal wind and rain of a severe Florida thunderstorm, but nothing that appeared catastrophic. Then news outlets  began to cautiously report that the storm had subsided to a category 1, while changing course to go east of Tampa Bay. The storm brought weeklong power outages, ruined fences, downed trees and debris as far as the eye could see. But, most residents were safe and sound and that is all that mattered.

The sky appeared mountainous after the storm (Photo by Danielle Bradley).

The next day we returned to our home. Our house sustained no major damage or flooding. We spent the day cleaning up yard debris and unpacking our belongings (convinced that our house would not survive, Danielle and I had brought all of our valuables to my parents house). The only thing lost was my emotional funk. When the evening came, Danielle and I reunited with our friends. Our favorite neighborhood bar decided to open, as the owner knew that “everyone needed a drink.” The place was packed with familiar faces, and we were greeted with hugs and warm wishes. It felt good to be back to living the lives that we loved, in a community that we cherished. The saying goes “home is where your heart is.” After the week of uncertainty came to a close… my head and my heart were finally home.

Visit this link to learn about ways to help Hurricane Irma and Harvey recovery efforts.

 

* Update 11/30/2017:  A person took offense to my classification of fun friends vs. genuine friends.  Please understand this was my perception as viewed through hurt eyes.  The terminology reflects how the situation made me feel.  I am sorry that this was taken harshly… and surprised that people actually read my writing. 😉

Life

It is Getting Ugly Out There…

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compassionPersonal beliefs aside, I think most of us can agree that it is getting ugly out there, in the world… and more specifically, in cyberspace. The past year of U.S. election rhetoric wedged a gaping divide in America. Passionate Americans have taken to the Internet to wage war on their opposition. Cat memes and selfies are replaced by political memes, fake news… and the even more surreal real news. Arguing over the building of physical walls has created emotional walls that divides co-workers, friends and families. Some choose to take to the streets in protest, but more take to the information highway to share their passionate political, religious and ideological beliefs. We have become digital evangelists… who are alienating more people than we convert. Boy, I do yearn for the days when my social media feeds consisted of pets, children and food.

So, if we abandon our social media vices, the world would be a better place? Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe there is some digital peace amongst the chaos…

Last year I created a blog for my Creative Nonfiction class. The blog For the Love of Florida focused on my experiences trying to find a love of my Tampa, Florida residence, while clinging to my Philadelphia roots.  I shared the blog with my family and friends. One family member was particularly encouraging, saying that she thought more of this type of writing was needed in the world today. She did not elaborate on what she exactly meant and I did not ask.  But, I believe that my writing had a positive affect on her in some way, and it may have been a nice vacation from Internet conflict.

So, this blog is my attempt to sprinkle a few droplets of positivity into murky waters of the World Wide Web. I decided to abandon my previous blog, as the theme was too specific: a good characteristic for a blog, but a bad characteristic for my “attention deficit” writing tendencies.  I created this site to share my random writings, art, photography and music adventures.  And probably pug photos, food photos… and maybe even an occasional cat meme for good measure.  Maybe it will have an impact on someone (myself included) or just brighten someone’s day.  Or maybe it will just be a way to keep myself writing.

The ideological turmoil reflected in the news and social media has had a unforeseen benefit in my life.  It has forced me to reflect on the person that I want to be and how I want to conduct myself as an individual.  I have always believed in peace in the world. I believe when people take the time to know and love themselves, the trickle down effect is a more peaceful humanity.  And now, more than ever, it is important that my thoughts, words and actions reflect my beliefs.  I believe in love, compassion and equality…. and I am working on ensuring that my actions always reflect that, even in difficult situations. So, if my blog needs a theme, that would be it.  Welcome to my world…  and to my journey.