GHOST IN THE ALLEY

Early morning is an exquisitely magical time in India; meditation begins at 4 a.m., worship at sunrise. There is a calm in the streets that is sprinkled with the bells of bicycle rickshaws and the glow of kerosene lamps. At the right time of the year the air is cool. This shot was taken around 3:30 a.m. during March of 2003. It is a side alley off of the main bazaar of Varanasi. If you look carefully you will see "a ghost" just to the right of the light at the end of the alley. This "ghost" is a man who was walking his bicycle. When he turned the corner into the alley he saw me and my camera on a tripod. He stopped as he didn't want to ruin my shot.

This shot is a 3 1/2 minute time exposure. The man was only in the scene for about the last 20 seconds. Because the illumination was so dark the 20 seconds resulted in the ghost like appearance of the man. For those of you interested in the photographic process, the blue in the shade is not something that I added. Blue is the color of shade. Most of the time we don't see the blue because human perception is not an objective process. What we "see" is frequently determined by what we have learned and not merely an accurate translation of the image on our retinas.

GOD, INC.

For reasons that are still quite unclear to me I was born a Jew this time around. Judaism has certainly been very much a beloved part of my cultural experience but it has never fed me spiritually. As a child I would go to temple alone, not because of any parental pressure. Quite the contrary, as my father would frequently state that “God is wherever you find him” he didn’t need to go “to shul”. (The sub-text was that since he experienced himself as God, going to temple would be redundant.) Today my re-occurring experience of a typical service is that the front of the room is a race to see how fast everything can be said and done and the back of the room is a great place to catch up on social events and do some business. What I have learned over time is that I am much more interested in the direct experience of the divine rather than the prescriptions. As such I don’t really practice any religion but since Hinduism comes the closest to what has evolved for me I am officially a Hinjew. I bore you with these too many words just to set a context for what follows. I have absolutely no axe to grind with any religion’s fundamental beliefs as written, except to the extent that any religion believes that their way is the only way to God or salvation. I do have a great deal of difficulty with many religions as practiced.

Perhaps an overly simplistic characterization of the American political landscape is that our government has become the shill for multinational corporations. The work of our legislators appears to be the pursuit of the legalization of how much the corporations can take before the population will revolt. There is no secret that the legislators owe their jobs to the large contributions their corporate benefactors have bestowed upon them. (For some reason the names of Joe Lieberman and almost everyone else who is about to vote against a real public option or single payer insurance system in America come to mind). As reprehensible as this political prostitution is to me I am far more offended when I experience the same kind of dynamic in a religious context.

What is prompting this particular diatribe is an article that I read in the Canadian Globe and Mail newspaper when I was in Vancouver last month. On page A10 in the October 1, 2009 edition was a story that started with, "A Roman Catholic bishop who oversaw an historic settlement with victims of past sexual abuse by priests in Nova Scotia has been charged with possessing and importing child pornography." (http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/catholic-bishop-facing-child-porn-charges/article1307530/) What outrages me is not the imperfections of people. As a therapist I am constantly educated and reminded about the creative ingenuity of people to devise new and improved ways of hurting each other. This is perhaps an inevitable outgrowth of our own internal wounds and may indeed be a necessary ingredient of our growth and development (a subject for another post).

What outrages me is the way the upper echelons of the church have responded to the revelations about the abuse of parishioners by priests. It appears to me that the Church's response is the same as the tobacco industry's to cancer or Exxon to oil spills: deny, delay, use lawyers to make the process both expensive and painful, attempt to blame the victim. But most of all never truly admit guilt or wrong doing and protect our assets at all costs. Don't fire offending employees just transfer them to other branches. In such a "holy environment" how could we ever expect the morality of the populace to exceed that of the "moral authorities"? As America is now beginning to fancy itself a "Christian Nation" how can we expect our politicians to not follow the lead of their religious leaders.

Imagine a story in which a woman is savagely raped and beaten by a policeman. She is left by her attacker and begins to weakly call out for help. At long last another policeman arrives as the woman struggles to stay alive and sane. At that moment the second policeman blames her for the crime and rapes her again. That is what it is like to be a victim of childhood sexual abuse by a priest and then have the leaders of the church do practically nothing or deny the events even took place. If this is how the Pope acts how can we expect anything more from Glenn Beck?

I again want to emphasize that I am not criticizing Roman Catholicism at all. There is so much of beauty in what Christ was and had to teach us. I just find it hard to believe that he died for our sins so that Bishop Raymond Lahey of the archdiocese of Antigonish could get his child porn in peace.

FOOT MITON

My son and I arrived in Hanoi during November of 2007. Our first night we walked across a park and were transfixed by some young adults playing badmiton. The staggering part was that the bird was considerably larger than what we are used to and they were not using racquets. Instead they were kicking the bird over the net. But even that wasn't the really cool part. They would allow the bird to go over their heads and then somehow kick it back over the net from behind themselves. Needless to say I had to try it and I was as good as Steven Hawkings. Now we fast forward a month and we're now in Cambodia. One of my most favorite things to do is rent a motorcycle and go off to the middle of nowhere. One morning I did just that and found a very small village that I'm sure I was the first gringo to ever enter. Some young kids were playing badmiton so I joined them. By this time I had learned that using my feet would always be useless so instead I used my hands. In a very short period of time we became the entertainment for the entire village. No one spoke English and I spoke no Cambodian yet we all had a blast. Here I was in the middle of nowhere without any concerns for my safety. It was a joy to be able to share the moment with them. After the game I walked through the village taking pictures. One of the perks of using digital equipment is that I can take a shot and immediately show it. I have found people all over the world so eager to be a part of such moments. Here are two shots taken after the game of some younger children that were spectators. Look at what kids look like who are deprived of video games and cell phones.

Fires That Purify

I've just spent the past 3 days attending a Conference for Change in Vancouver sponsored by the Dalai Lama Foundation. It was attended by 120 invited guests who are involved in humanitarian projects all over the world. (How this Hinjew shrink from Queens got an invite is subject for another time.) During Saturday evening we broke up into smaller groups to have dinner. It was here that I had the great fortune to be able to spend some time with Shawn A-In-Chut Atleo. Chief Atleo is an exquisitely rare instance of humanity at its best. He has recently been elected to be the first National Chief of the Assembly of First Nations of Canada. He is by no means a physically imposing individual (perhaps 5'8'') nor does he have the appearance of a wise old sage (he looks to be a quite youthful man in his mid 40's).

During dinner the question was asked about a definition of peace and what it would take to finally achieve it. I spoke about my belief that as long as we perceive the world to be divided into "us and them" there would probably always be the ease with which we inflict harm on each other. When I was asked what I thought it would take to end this, my response was an attack on earth from an alien civilization. Then Chief Atleo started to speak. He told us about the "Highway of Tears" that exists north of Vancouver. It is along this highway that indigenous people "disappear". There is sadly little that is currently being done to end this or find the perpetrators. In a rare instance, recently one pig farmer was convicted after they found the DNA of over 30 of the missing people in his pig feed. Chief Atleo is aware of over 500 missing people.

As the evening wound down I asked the Chief for a few minutes of his time. My question to him was why all of his time was not spent either weeping or using an assault weapon. He did admit to weeping. But he then told me that as most of his friends were "no longer with us" at this point in his life he was "just grateful to be able to do the work". His practice is a Buddhist meditation in which he breathes in the evil and breathes out healing and love. What an honor to be in the presence of such magnificence!

The next night I was at a fund raiser. It was attended by 300 people who clearly had a great deal of money. During the evening a 9 year old boy performed by masterfully playing classical music on a piano. His talent was superb and the 20 people who were listening were blown away by both his talent and the profound rudeness of the 280 others who's talking made it almost impossible to hear him. As we rode home some of us were trying to figure out how people could be so insensitive. My response was to comment that for me there was no difference between this crowd and the vast majority of Americans who go about their daily lives while so many of our youth are slaughtered in war every day.

I don't own an assault weapon because I know that if I did I'd probably use it. So perhaps it’s time to breath in the evil and breath out the love.

There Is No Nobel Prize For Congeniality

When Tiger Woods entered the clubhouse of the Augusta National Golf Club during April of 1997 he was very much aware that he had a very temporary pass. No people of color were allowed to become members. During the next 4 days he pummeled the field and won by 12 strokes. When Fuzzy Zoeller made his unfortunate remarks about Tiger after the tournament he (Fuzzy) was emphatically and immediately silenced. Today there are no signs with Tiger depicted as Hitler or the devil lining the fairways. This is what happens when things are immediately and effectively dealt with.

When Joe Wilson shouts out he is clearly playing to his racist base. This is so evident that even Jimmy Carter can see it. Congressman Wilson appears to not believe it proper to have a man of color running the ship. Yet there is not the same power to respond to him that silenced Fuzzy. When Glenn Beck makes some comments about Van Jones it is Jones that gets thrown under the bus. As a result we lose another marvelously intelligent and articulate voice.

This past weekend in Washington clearly demonstrated the growing racist cancer that the Republican strategy is fostering under the guise of health care reform protest. What was said there and in the town hall fiascos screams how the Republicans are masters at getting people to act and vote in ways that are not in their own self interest. It also demonstrates how pathetic the Democratic party is in mounting any potent response.

When Don Imus made his "nappy haired hoes" comments about the Rutgers women's basketball team he was thrown off the air. It was a rare moment in which decency triumphed. But Imus is an insignificant flea compared to the likes of Limbaugh, Beck, Hannity, O'Reilly, and many others who get paid by Rupert Murdoch. To the outside observer it appears that the Obama administration can easily be pushed around. Mr. President, how many times do you have to be spit on before you realize that the answer to your "Can't we be friends pleas?" is a resounding no?

I fear that unless the growing racist tide is stopped we will be heading towards major disaster. I am not advocating any policy that would increase the chances of another civil war. Yet since your adversaries are so fond of Hitler comparisons, the appeasement of the 1930's clearly didn't work. When Vice President Cheney was asked about the growing public dissent about the Iraq war his response was "So?". I am not advocating for his clear indifference and disdain. We may never recover from the Bush administration. But they got their things done! They weren't involved in a beauty pageant or trying to win the Nobel Prize for congeniality.

Your speech to the joint session was eloquent but left me less satiated than a Chinese food dinner. Not only was I hungry 20 minutes later I was disappointed with the chef. What you appear to be advocating for now with health care is a watered down version of what you campaigned on. My fear is that even if you do get a bill passed it will indeed be your Waterloo. Because in the process the message to be learned is not that you won. The message will be that you can be bullied and you can be demeaned. This will embolden your adversaries as they smell the blood of your pyrrhic victory.

Buzkazi

My first visit to Afghanistan was in 1974. Like most Americans, I had no idea where it was before I went there. A few days after I arrived in Kabul I had the great fortune to be able to attend a wedding party for the king's nephew. I have never felt so uneducated as I did that night (despite having my doctorate at the time). The progeny of the diplomatic corps along with the extended royal family had been to the best schools all over the world. They all spoke multiple languages. Further details will perhaps be the subject of a future post.
A 4 hour bus ride from Kabul brought me to a place named Bamian. Bamian would later be in the news after the Taliban spent many weeks dynamiting two glorious 160 foot tall Buddhas that were carved into a mountain there.


(This is a shot of one of the Buddhas in 1975. You can see the scale by the two people at the bottom.) I will never cease to be amazed at the pain and suffering that humans can descend to when they have the certitude of their convictions. Band-e-Amir was three hours by truck on a non-existent road. Band-e-Amir is one of the prettiest places I have ever been. It is a series of 7 lakes in the middle of stark desert like surroundings. Each lake is crystal clear and each is a different color. It was here that I watched buzkazi being played. Buzkazi is played on horseback. The idea is to grab a sheep and carry to your goal. The other team does what it can to stop you and score their own goal. The only way to see the game is on horseback. A full game can take up to 3 days to play. This shot was taken as I stood in the field where they were playing. I was about 20 feet from these riders.

Wanted: A Real Leader

An Open Letter to Our President:

When there's 5 seconds left on the clock the players can be divided into two categories, those that want the ball and those that don't. The ones who do want the ball are willing to take the risk of failure. Michael Jordan, considered by many to be the best basketball player ever, always wanted the ball even though he missed as many as he made.

The last administration was marked by a lack of leadership on both sides of the isle. The puppet Bush embarrassed us all whenever he opened his mouth. The Democratic opposition did nothing to stop the tyranny and pillage. Mr. President you awakened the passion of the masses through the hope of meaningful change and decency returning to our leadership. So far my experience of your administration has been a disappointment. It remains a delight to see you in action on foreign soil as a beautiful representative of our land. But at home it is starting to look and sound like eloquence without backbone. My perception of the eight months since you took office can be characterized as the Republicans throwing whatever excrement they like on what started as the pristine walls of new construction. Your administration spends its time wiping that excrement off the walls. But over time the stains that remain are starting to become way too dominant. Mr. President you appear to be playing defense when what we need is the grace of Dr. J as he stuffs it in their faces.

Jesus Christ, Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr., were all glorious manifestations of the power of a non-violent approach. But their approach was based on firm principles and convictions. There was never any doubt about what they stood for or what their position was. When the game is on the line Manning does not walk across the scrimmage line to ask the defense if it's alright with them for him to throw on third down. Your candidacy aroused the passions of both the apathetic youth and the cynically jaded grey hairs. So far you have appeared to be far more interested in being liked than being right. I didn't vote for you to build a consensus with those who have made it clear that their agenda is about defeating you at all costs. So far the only change that I can believe in is the fact that compared to your predecessor you can speak the language. If you continue your present course you will lose me and you will show our children that they were foolish to believe. My guess is that you will also wind up on MSNBC in 2013 as another superbly eloquent, incredibly intelligent talking head.