explaining my political cynicism, where jesus and marxism meet

Talking about voting yesterday, I realized that the simplest ways of explaining my apathy towards our two-party electoral system is as follows: Liberals idealize the state as much as conservatives idealize the market, neither seeing how each is co-dependent and exploitative under capitalism. Instead of being a people-centered system, we live within a profit-centered system. And under that system, liberals think things like poverty and other social ills can be fixed by the state, while conservatives think the magic is in market, both ideas equally as wrong due to the inherent contradictions within capitalism. Voting for one of the two major parties, you're essentially voting for different sides of the same coin. And voting for a third party is effective as a statement, but certainly nothing revolutionary. That's not to say our votes don't count because they can at least steer the direction of policy; but we shouldn't delude ourselves into thinking that that direction isn't severely limited by the structure of the system itself. The logic of any institution is first and foremost to preserve itself. You can't vote away poverty et al. in capitalism anymore than you can vote away money; and the majority of the most meaningful change in society comes about through our interactions with one another at the local level, individually (in our homes, work places, etc.) and as a community. Checking a box every year or two isn't half as important as how you treat your neighbour and vice versa, and living by the maxim, "From each according to their ability, to each according to their need."

pah bah

Today, thanks to the generosity of two acquaintances, Paddy and Colin, I went to the Pacific Hermitage Pah Bah ceremony in White Salmon, WA.

Pah bah means 'forest cloth' in Thai; and the festival comes out of the ancient tradition of leaving cloth in the forest for monks to find for them to make their robes after the end of the three-month rains retreat. It's a time for the lay-community to 'draw close' and offer the monastic community gifts of cloth and other supplies they'll need for the coming year as they rely totally on the generosity of the lay-community.

This year's event was rather special in that both Ajahn Amaro and Ajahn Pasanno were there. Both were students of Ajahn Chah, and both were at one time co-abbots of Abhayagiri until Ajahn Amaro was asked to take over Amaravati in England. It was a very auspicious reunion, and I'm glad that I had to opportunity to be there.

The day began with the afternoon meal, which was first offered to the monks, and then shared by everyone. Next was some traditional paritta (blessing) chanting followed by the actual alms giving and a Dhamma talk, which was split up. Ajahn Pasanno gave a short talk first, followed by Ajahn Amaro. The place was decorated in traditional Thai style, with saffron-coloured towel gibbons strategically placed all over as if in a forest.

One of the overarching themes was anumodana, which means 'rejoicing together' in goodness and generosity and/or offering encouragement. Gathering together and giving our time and support to one another produces a field of merit or goodness that brings happiness to everyone, those who give as well as those who receive.

Just as charity plays a big role in Christianity, the Buddha placed a lot of importance on dana or generosity as well. Generosity arises out of wholesome mental states, and gives rise to numerous benefits on its own. In addition, generosity is considered a requisite for spiritual development. I've always found it interesting that the Buddha begins most of his discourses on the gradual training with teachings on generosity.

After the ceremony, a group of us drove the short distance to the hermitage for a tour. The main building, a small house, has a kitchen, an office area, and a shrine where the monks gather for chanting and meals. Then there's a guest house, for the abbot or visiting monks, and a couple of small dwellings for the monks to sleep and meditate.

I felt bad that I missed mass in order to go to the Pah Bah, but I'm glad I went. It was a beautiful event. And in many ways, it felt kind of the same.

the world must be crazy

I've become rather cynical as of late when it comes to politics and religion.

I see, for example, the problems that we're facing as a society, problems that stem in large part from the way our society is currently structured, and I instinctively want to fix them. But the solutions that I see are rejected by most as being too radical, utopian etc., and I can't seem to convince anyone to see things any differently, as if the status quo hasn't been consistently creating the conditions for systematic inequality and catastrophic global climate change for centuries. Whatever I do or say, I feel like Sisyphus, rolling a boulder up a hill just to watch it roll back down again.

The majority of people seem to be politically apathetic; and the majority of those who aren't seem to be satisfied with lesser evilism. And don't get me started on the sectarian triumphalism of political parties that, in my opinion, sell a lot of snake oil to the faithful, but fail to do much of anything that's truly efficacious and for the good of all, dividing people more than uniting them in common cause. And much like in the realm of political parties, I think the sectarian triumphalism of religious institutions is guilty of the same when it comes to spirituality.

Individually, there are a lot of good people and groups out there doing a lot of good things in the world; but collectively, on the macro level, I don't see quite the same—I see conflict, division, and shortsightedness where it really counts. It's especially apparent to me after spending time at a monastery; when I come back to the 'worldly life,' the ways we live, the things we think are important, etc., seem so crazy in contrast. It's like as a society, we're ill; but we don't think we're ill, and we childishly fight against most of the things that can potentially make us healthier. The sanest and happiest people I know seem to be the ones who have renounced the world.

I don't know. I think I'm at least understanding the inner motives of hermits.