November
2002
Guest
Editorial: Embracing Uncertainty: Impressions (or Confessions)
of an Addled Activist
By Lawrence Carter-Long |
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Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist
in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding
danger is no safer
in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure
or nothing at all.—Helen Keller
The longing for security is understandable. When the “To Do”
list keeps expanding, there are over 200 email messages to read (and,
ugh, respond to), pressing work deadlines and, oh yes, an impending war
dominating the news…who wouldn’t seek sanctuary from the
ever-shifting onslaught of changes that accompanies being alive?
It is with some regret—and no small degree of anxiety—I eventually
came to realize that such safety, the dream that we can free our lives
of adversity, is also downright impossible.
The understanding that sanctuary exists only as a Utopian ideal pushed
me straight into a full-blown panic, followed quickly by paralysis: What
do you mean there is no security? Far from giving solace, this new awareness
sent me scrambling into bed with the desire to pull the covers over my
head for all of eternity—or at least until the cats demanded dinner.
Seclusion brought temporary relief, but soon the ache burned even stronger.
Clearly my reaction wasn’t going to help create the kind of world
I wanted to live in. A shift in perception was needed. Was my initial
assessment faulty? Might it be possible, I wondered, to embrace that
bittersweet
reality? To draw strength from it?
Pema Chödrön, a Buddhist nun who has been cited as a source
of inspiration by the likes of authors bell hooks and Alice Walker, believes
so. The abbot of Shambhala International’s Gampo Abbey in Nova Scotia
and a student of Tibetan meditation master Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche,
Chödrön’s latest book, Comfortable with Uncertainty: 108
Teachings (Shambhala Publications) aims to provide new tools for diving
into—not retreating from—the anxieties of daily life. But
one need not be a Buddhist to obtain wisdom from Chödrön’s
unconventional approach to altering one’s relationship with unease.
Anyone who has ever felt insecure or overwhelmed should be able to relate.
At first glance, Chödrön’s teachings may have casual readers
wanting to hide under their covers. As Pema writes, “What we’re
talking about is getting to know fear, becoming familiar with fear. Looking
it right in the eye—not as a way to solve problems, but as a complete
undoing of old ways of seeing, hearing, smelling and thinking. The truth
is that when we really begin to do this, we’re going to be continually
humbled. Fear is a natural reaction of moving closer to the truth. If
we commit ourselves to staying right where we are, then our experience
becomes very vivid. Things become very clear when there is nowhere to
escape.” Reflection and practice are necessary to reveal the simple
but difficult truths examined within. The faint of heart or those in
search
of easy answers will not be placated here.
In short, Chödrön’s message seems to be that the episodes
and incidents we experience are always concluding, beginning anew and
ending again. But for some odd reason, we’ve come to believe we’re
only supposed to embrace the fun parts and not the messes we find ourselves
faced with. We fear being out of control, of not being able to dictate
events or solutions. It almost seems as if humans are biologically programmed
to reject uncertainty. With time and wisdom, we may be able to buy it
intellectually, but actually being caught unprepared still sparks immense
apprehension and fear. Panic attacks, becoming angry and intolerant,
or
hiding under the covers are only the most obvious manifestations of our
warped relationship with anxiety. Most reactions are more subtle. When
faced with uncertainty, most of us appear to go on with our lives, but
are affected in profound ways nonetheless. We might have trouble sleeping,
retreat from social situations or avoid friends. We may stop eating.
We
may, eventually, burn out.
It takes guts to admit how destructive this pattern can become—and
even more to alter it. Obviously the less caught up we are in our quest
for security, the more capable we’ll be of addressing the needs
that surface in the world around us. If we can stop looking for some idealized
moment when everything is safe, Chödrön asserts, and experience
the world with clear understanding—which might be painful or pleasurable—we’ll
have the working basis with which we can move forward.
It’s far from easy, but learning to relate better to the reality
we’re faced with when we open up makes all the difference.
This issue of Satya features individuals who, while they never
considered themselves activists, are facing uncertainty with the kind
of awareness and aplomb that Chödrön teaches. As the opening
quote signifies, sometimes in order to truly live, to be effective, we’ve
got to have the faith to jump right in. The individuals interviewed this
month are living examples of the adventurous spirit embodied by Helen
Keller decades ago. People who never asked to be agents of change, but
when faced with injustice and uncertainty, have more than risen to the
challenges thrust upon them. It’s what Chödrön calls an
“appetite for groundlessness.” By accepting what we can’t
control, we paradoxically gain more strength through letting go.
Hungry for adventure? Ready to dine on danger? Read on. There’s
plenty to chew inside.
Lawrence Carter-Long is a regular contributor to
Satya. A fledgling practitioner of Shambhala Buddhism, he took refuge
vows with Pema Chödrön in November 2000. When not hiding under
the covers, Lawrence has been active in disability rights and the Buddhist
Peace Fellowship’s Buddhist Alliance for Social Engagement. He
is currently the Issues Specialist for In Defense of Animals.
