Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Power in the Dark

Hurricane Isaac and the Concept of Power: Warning! Hippie Shit

Not that long ago, Hurricane Isaac surprised us all in southern Louisiana. It wasn't supposed to be as impacting as it was. Aside from outrageous and devastating flooding in Plaquemines, LaPlace, and Slidell, perhaps the most annoying obstacle New Orleanians and surrounding area inhabitants faced collectively was the ongoing power outage. Some of us found other places to stay, others stayed put on our porches drinking beers and numbing the discomfort. For city dwellers, even in the small city of New Orleans, falling asleep in the darkness nearest to pitch black can prove difficult; I had the prickling fear that maybe zombies really do exist and would moan and scurry like rats up our street, searching for the nearest scent of human blood. I left my home a few days in when my dog started to overheat. His usually firm and athletic pit bull muscles turn to jelly when he begins to overheat. He flops on the floor, barely moving, like a mass of goo. At that moment, I realized that we had to leave. A few days later, the electricity popped back on; a neighbor sent me an ecstatic text message at 11:30 on a Saturday night, thrilled that we were no longer in the dark. We could use our peripheral vision again! We could SEE!

The following Monday, at a yoga class, my yoga instructor, Sean Johnson, invited us to meditate on the concept of "power." He voiced how strange it is that we use the term "power" as a synonym for "electricity." Since that night, I have thought of power and what it means to me and how it will differ from person to person. 

There are those who feel powerful by controlling others, yet those very people seem to have the most miniscule self control. There are those who feel powerless and that unwelcome occurrences merely happen to them. I suspect there is an epidemic in our culture where many associate power with control. In some situations, this may be accurate - helping a friend deal with loss, one can feel powerless to change the friend's situation. In ways, I have found power in knowledge; to be aware of myself and others in the world - openly aware - brings with it burdens of injustices seen but also the freedom of knowing that change can happen and that each of us plays a role in that change even in our daily interactions. Mostly, though, I have found power involves surrendering: surrendering to ourselves that, in turn, allows us to surrender to others. Accepting our needs and wants and demands, giving ourselves permission to accept. To accept, to welcome, to love. What happens next is that we are then able to exercise self control; the very act of letting go frees us to find power in our contentment. And there the chase for this illusive power ends. 

After Isaac passed and my yoga class ended, I wrote a short meditation on power. Here it is: 

Power. To define it may be the biggest challenge of all.
Is power control? No, that is merely illusory power.
Is power having the most of? No, having much causes weakness.
Is power illuminating? Close.
Power is the freedom of openness, a thing that does not come naturally.
Power is the human interconnection with the radiating shock of Mother Earth

that melts into a chocolaty river,
the feeling of the wide open sky sending down beams
of sunlight, or fiery lightning and hallucinatory winds.
Power is the humbling mimicry of nature:
our hurricane outrage,
our thunderstorm tears,
our sunlight smiles with the willow tree shadows
showing our multiple dimensions.
Power is exercising an open chest with which to absorb,
to be electrified by surroundings,
to harbor a piece of energy inside the heart
with which to refuel the body, mind, and soul. 

The power found in acceptance - acknowledging our differences but accepting based on them - can lead to a progression of growth. Will people ever stop trying to control one another, to create little ineffective armies of themselves? To appreciate differences, to surrender to who we are: there we will find power.

Friday, July 6, 2012

After a long unintended hiatus, I have decided to post a poem I wrote. I have never attempted to write about my experience of being vegan in a very non-vegan-friendly culture down here in the Deep South, but after the past few months, which have had the recurrent bashing of veganism in American movies and online among friends of friends, I decided to give it a go, for such a build-up must come out in some way. Creative writing continues, even if I am shamefully bad about posting it here:

How alienating it can be
To feel more aligned with those deemed lesser
Than with my fellow humans
How stagnating it can be to see
Blood dripping from their hands and lips
Yet they still laugh at me
As though my choice in kindness
Is alien, to be feared
How sour becomes my ability to
Digest the hypocrisies flung about
And clinging like mold spores on the air
Like a fungus destroying the base
Of our safety, perfectly crumbled
Perfectly obliterated

To claim a love of those lesser
Yet to assist in murdering
So you, the wiser, can eat
What you want
That's killing you anyway
To claim a passion for saving
Pulling bones from the river
Yet setting aside the blood-soaked dirt
As a bed for your next victim

I choose to love you anyway
Despite your flesh-eating disease of
Claiming care for this kind
But consuming that kind
I choose to embrace you anyway
Soaking up your tears of loss and sadness
When your river rat has returned to earth
I choose to empathize with you anyway
Even though I allow you to grind a knife in my gut
Every time it's convenient for you to close your eyes