Courage and Caution in an Age of Fear
Dharma talk: Peg Syverson
Sunday, March 8, 2020
I want to talk today about courage and caution in an age of fear:
I first want to talk about the operations of fear.
In evolutionary terms, fear was a response to a direct threat to survival. These threats were immediate and palpable: a charging elephant, a thunderstorm, a volcano erupting. There were other, invisible threats to survival, such as bad water holes, poisonous mushrooms, and disease, but we were not aware of them and did not fear them. I’m pretty sure though, that early humans did fear the great mystery of death, and thus religions were born.
Over time and much experience in many conditions, humans learned to fear more things: cruel rulers, other clans who might attack them, gods who punished them, famine and drought. Still, people could not become paralyzed by fear, and probably unless faced with a direct threat, they were generally untroubled by it. In any event, they still had to go about their everyday activities finding food, shelter, and companionship for themselves and their families.
In modern times, we have faced two trends that have amplified our fears in many, many ways. The first is the trend created by mass media, beginning with the earliest newspapers and magazines, that of advertising. Advertising generally has two approaches, sometimes used simultaneously: making you fear want something you didn’t know you should be afraid of (morning breath? Ring around the collar?), and making you desire something you didn’t know you needed. Fear and craving go hand in hand: when we are afraid, we look for something to soothe, numb, or relieve us. When that fails, we often become angry, looking for someone or something to blame or punish or exile. Advertising depends on the success of the medium in which it appears and so there must be a market for that medium, which leads to the second trend, which is also amplified by mass media: the lure of the sensational. Sensational stories grab our attention and fill us with a kind of eager anxiety. We consume them voraciously. We can now read and hear sensational stories from all around the world and from every culture. There are more than 8 billion people on the planet, so it seems the sensational stories are proliferating everywhere, even though they are statistically insignificant. Some of these are benign: a 98-year old yoga teacher dancing the tango, a toddler patting the face of his crying baby brother, a cat playing the piano. But many of them only serve to create and amplify our fears and our anxiety: terrible scenes of earthquakes and floods and fires, reports of massive climate change, photos from war zones, torture, and the miseries of refugees fleeing their homelands.
We have been taught to fear so many things! Sometimes I wonder about all that we have learned to be afraid of: the sun causes cancer, so we slather on the sunscreen or defiantly refuse to or negligently forget to, but always, we have an underlying current of unease. Of course there is the food whipsaw: we shouldn’t eat salt—no wait, we should; we shouldn’t eat fat—no wait, we should; we should eat processed foods, they are healthy—no wait, we shouldn’t. We worry, of course, about the usual things, losing our jobs, getting sick or hurt, taking care of those we love—our children, our parents, our friends. We worry about getting to work on time, picking up groceries, filling out our tax returns. We worry about our weight, our aches, and our gray hairs. But also we worry about the things that are constantly in the news cycle: the political situation, climate change and its irreversible effects on weather, drought, floods, rising sea levels, animals and food crops. We are worried about the plight of refugees, whom we have been told to fear, although they carry no weapons, have no power, are terrified and lost, far from their homes, and cannot speak for themselves. We are afraid of the unrest in our own country, fearing each other and filled with mistrust and hostility even within our own families. Through fear we have been made to treat others with anger and dismissal, or with confinement and cruelty. Their crime is solely that they are different in some way: different skin color, different language, different sexuality, different views.
We are now subject to a great contagion, which is greater even than the current virus that has most recently inspired it: the contagion of fear and its locus. It is hard to look in any direction without finding cause for fears that have been greatly fanned by media, rumor, and speculation. It is a short step beyond fearing others to fearing our own bodies: now we are not to gather together, we are not supposed to touch our face, we are to fear our own hands, which have been contacting the world, touching alien objects that were once familiar and unnoticed: an armrest in an airplane, a doorknob, a faucet. Now the fear complex is complete: there is nothing that is not to be feared—not the sun, nor the sky nor the water, nor the weather, nor other people who don’t look like us, nor other people who do look like us, nor our own bodies and minds, and the fear industry is booming: surveillance video is everywhere, we have turned schools into prisons with armed guards, our actual prisons are for-profit institutions, and we travel into terror. We have sacrificed so many of our freedoms in accepting illusional promises of safety and security. It only takes one shocking incident out of millions and millions of unremarkable events to empower the ratcheting up of “security” measures that only increase our fear and do nothing to create true safety, because true safety cannot ever be achieved. Fear is the well-worn tool of authoritarians and dictators.
What should we do? After all, aren’t these things actually frightening? To contract a serious sickness is of course something we are wise to avoid. No one wants to be the victim of a terrorist attack or a shooting in a shopping mall. What I am watching that worries me though is the ongoing amplifying of the threat level so that ultimately we are convinced to simply stay home, hunkered down in front of our televisions and computers, alienated from each other and from our own bodies, absorbing more and more horrifying news until we are numb and isolated and terrified. Yet nothing is done to remove guns from circulation, to create genuine peace in nations at war, to relieve the terrible conditions and income inequality in countries that result in floods of refugees.
Even more importantly, once so confined, we are eager consumers for whatever will give us peace of mind: face masks, hand sanitizers, movies, food, booze, gadgets, and surfing the web. We buy more weapons and security cameras for our front doors and we look at our neighbors with dread and suspicion. A black man walks down a suburban street and the alarm goes out over NextDoor. We worry whether to send our children to schools that seem like magnets for every deranged gun nut. We are genuinely terrified of the political polarization that has divided families and frayed nerves in the workplace.
I have no easy answers for this disturbing trend. Frightened people are easily manipulated: by rumors, by media spin, by ruthless and corrupt politicians and leaders. It has ever been so. If you cannot lead from love, it is always safe to lead from fear; it just depends on finding pervasive fears that can be exploited. I cannot promise that there are not causes for our concern. But rather than mitigate the causes, our systems of governance and capital only exploit them for their own advantage. We need to make genuine sacrifices in order to address the larger problems of climate and income inequality—yet no one is talking about sacrifice; we need healthy governments to manage epidemics of diseases—instead we have ignorance, greed, and hatred leading not only our own country, but so many others, we need wise discernment and compassion to address so many of the conditions we fear: homelessness, safe travel, climate change, immigration, social media. But that is not what is happening. Instead there is denial of causality and inept reactions to situations that could have been foreseen and prevented or skillfully addressed. Our leaders are not awake, they are not compassionate, and they are not competent. What to do?
We can only work at this level, the level where we have influence and capacity. We can help each other. Of course we should take reasonable precautions, but we must guard against being tugged into the tide of panic and isolation. We will get sick, we will get old, we will die.
Here are the Five Remembrances in Buddhist teachings:
I am of the nature to grow old; there is no way to escape growing old.
I am of the nature to have ill health; there is no way to escape having ill health.
I am of the nature to die; there is no way to escape death.
All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature of change; there is no escape from being separated from them.
My deeds are my closest companions; I am the beneficiary of my deeds. My deeds are the ground on which I stand.
Our Buddhist teachings of recognizing this first noble truth are an honest and fearless gaze at what is actual and inevitable. How can we tolerate it? We are given to believe that the anxiety we feel when we contemplate this truth can be relieved by…what? Buying face masks, buying hand sanitizer, buying an exercise video, buying more vitamins, stocking up for quarantine. How can we dance with each other, kiss each other, travel to meet each other, learn from each other, explore the world when we are paralyzed by fear? I’ll repeat this: you are going to get sick, get old, and die.
Oh, how we long for this not to be so. And thus craving is born: craving for life, craving for whatever will bring relief, craving for prevention and denial and even craving for non-existence, for death itself, to relieve our fear and dread. This craving is the real source of our suffering, and I am sorry to say the forces in our culture are aligned to manufacture, amplify, and distort it. They are especially designed to distract us from its true sources. It’s a total setup. How can we awaken from this dream, this craving for what can never be provided: comfort, safety, perfect health, eternal life?
It can all be stopped. Not through a political revolution, not through the marketplace, not through the media, not through the internet. It can be stopped right here, it can be stopped by you, and it can be stopped by all of us together. I will repeat this: you are going to get sick, you are going to get old, and you are going to die. The real question is what you do with your living, what you do with this precious life you have entered into. Do you want to live in fear, trembling with dread and anxiety, afraid of everyone and everything? I don’t. I will get sick, I will get old, and I will die, but I do not want to do those things in terror. So, what does the Buddha teach about the path out of this tangle of fear and craving? Does he really imagine this can all be stopped?
Yes. It can be stopped. We can walk the path of the bodhisattva, of the true disciple of the Buddha. We will still get old, we will still get sick, we will still die. We will still be apart from those we love, and with what we do not love. Please be clear about this. If you are clear about it, no one can ever threaten you with these, because there is nothing that can prevent them. We will use wise and compassionate caution, not panic as we walk this path together. And what is that path—the Buddha’s eightfold path? Here’s the original description with the Pali terms translated by John Allen on Buddhanet. He notes:
Note: The word Samma in each of these eight steps means 'proper', 'whole', 'thorough', 'integral', 'complete', and 'perfect' - related to English 'summit' - It does not necessarily mean 'right', as opposed to 'wrong'. However it is often translated as "right" which can send a less than accurate message. For instance the opposite of 'Right Awareness' is not necessarily 'Wrong Awareness'. It may simply be incomplete. Use of the word 'right' may make for a neat or consistent list of qualities in translations. The down side is that it can give the impression that the Path is a narrow and moralistic approach to the spiritual life.
1. * Samma-Ditthi — Complete or Perfect Vision, also translated as right view or understanding. Vision of the nature of reality and the path of transformation. I consider this is the clear-eyed view of what is true, noble, beneficial, and caring. Our ongoing inquiry is: what is the whole story here? What am I missing? What has not been told? What is actually happening? Whose voice has not been heard?
2. Samma-Sankappa — Perfected Emotion or Aspiration, also translated as right thought or attitude. Liberating emotional intelligence in your life and acting from love and compassion. An informed heart and feeling mind that are free to practice letting go. I would express this as an ongoing examination of and inquiry into what our deepest aspiration and intentions are in every moment.
3. Samma-Vaca — Perfected or whole Speech. Also called right speech. Clear, truthful, uplifting and non-harmful communication. Included in this aspect of the eightfold path, I believe, is considering what we are taking in from others’ speech, what we are hearing or reading, whether in person, or in various media. The ongoing inquiry into what I am speaking and what I am hearing: is it truthful, beneficial, and kind? Not sure? Are you reading Twitter? Are you talking about the latest shocking news? Take a guess.
4. Samma-Kammanta — Integral Action. Also called right action. An ethical foundation for life based on the principle of non-exploitation of oneself and others. The five precepts. I think this means the ongoing inquiry into what is the best use of our skills, capacities, resources, and most of all, presence. What am I doing, and how does it align with my aspiration?
5. Samma-Ajiva — Proper Livelihood. Also called right livelihood. This is a livelihood based on correct action, the ethical principal of non-exploitation. The basis of an Ideal society. I think our ongoing inquiry is given the brevity of life, what contribution are my labors making to the well-being of myself and others?
6. Samma-Vayama — Complete or Full Effort, Energy or Vitality. Also called right effort or diligence. Consciously directing our life energy to the transformative path of creative and healing action that fosters wholeness. Conscious evolution. Our ongoing inquiry here is: how do I direct and cultivate this life force? Obviously this includes good care and nourishment of our own bodies and minds so that we are resourced enough to express it in the world.
7. Samma-Sati — Complete or Thorough Awareness. Also called "right mindfulness". Developing awareness, "if you hold yourself dear watch yourself well". Levels of Awareness and mindfulness - of things, oneself, feelings, thought, people and Reality. We practice meditation to wake up, so the ongoing inquiry here is: am I awake, or am I in a dream state: a state of dread, a state of fantasy, replaying the past or fantasizing about the future. Am I fully attuned to nature, to my surroundings, to those I meet?
8. Samma-Samadhi — Full, Integral or Holistic Samadhi. This is often translated as concentration, meditation, absorption or one-pointedness of mind. Here our inquiry is about how we are developing our awareness through our sincere and consistent practice, connection with community, and working with our teachers.
John Allen, the translator, notes, about this eighth step: None of these translations is adequate. Samadhi literally means to be fixed, absorbed in or established at one point, thus the first level of meaning is concentration when the mind is fixed on a single object. The second level of meaning goes further and represents the establishment, not just of the mind, but also of the whole being in various levels or modes of consciousness and awareness. This is Samadhi in the sense of enlightenment or Buddhahood.
This is a courageous path. It is not blind to reality, it is not swept along by current opinion, it is not in denial about very real risks. But it refuses to collude with the forces of Mara, whispering in our ears, or our social conditioning which is vulnerable to contagion—not only of disease, but of emotion states, rumor, and the sensational.
My graduate school mentor was an accomplished pilot who studied crew navigation riding in the cockpit of planes, studying the kinds of mistakes made by pilots and crews. He had been an anthropologist on a remote island in the Trobriand Islands. When he arrived on the island, he and his wife were in a terrible automobile accident in which one of the passengers were killed and both he and his wife were badly injured. His response? He didn’t go home. He told his wife they needed to get deeper into the bush. Once I told him that I admired the way he had never been limited by fear. He replied, oh, I have definitely had fear! Yes, I said, but you have never been limited by fear. By comparison I could clearly see how many of my own life decisions had been governed by fear.
I don’t want that, and I don’t want that for you. Lives cramped by fear get smaller and smaller, more and more superficial, more and more obsessed with the trivial and the unimportant, more and more isolated, lonely, and despairing. We have work to do here, and we don’t have a lot of time to do it, no matter how long we live. Let’s try to do it together with as much courage as we can muster, and with wisdom and compassion for ourselves and for each other, and for all beings.