Just Breathe, But Also Know When To Fight

Like someone with an ear right up against a radio, getting an occasional bit of voice in the crackling, I’m trying to sort out snippets of incoming news. The messages are definitely mixed, if not downright conflicting. “It’s this way….No, it’s definitely the other way.” Gazing outside at the falling snow today, I recall my Uncle Harold, about 50 years ago, when both his own mother and his mother-in-law were visiting during a snowstorm and he kept hearing opposite instructions: “Keep shoveling, Harold! I need to get back to Brooklyn!” and “No, don’t exert yourself too much or you’ll have a heart attack!”

Currently, it’s the contest between peacefulness and agitation, or keeping calm and getting all fired up, that has me confused. How do you really know when is the right time to be on which side? And, furthermore, how can you tell good fighting from bad; tranquility from just idleness in the face of danger?

With the passing of Thich Nhat Hanh, at the age of 95, last week, I’m reacquainting myself with the sweep of his life’s work.

I’m glad to have found this artist’s rendition of him on Shutterstock, because it captures the essence of the man: calm, compassionate, gentle — but also, in his own way, determined.

Buddhist monk, spiritual leader, intellectual, poet, rescuer of refugees, founder of monasteries and universities, exiled from his own country of Viet Nam — he had an extraordinarily wide influence around the world. While he might be regarded as an “activist” for the causes that he supported, it was his role as a proponent of peace of all kinds that will be his main legacy. He taught us what “mindful meditation” is and how just the simple of act of breathing, of being conscious of our breath — in and out, in and out, over and over again — can help us live more fully in each moment. We start with being rooted in ourselves, and that feeling allows us to create meaningful relationships to other people as well as to all of Nature.

Nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by Martin Luther King, Jr., Thich Nhat Hanh was never an advocate for violent struggle.

So it is with some dissonance that I am also encountering this month not just one but two books that actually lift up and celebrate the concept of what could be considered the opposite of mindfulness: going after something aggressively, either in the raw sense — individually and physically, with real blows; or united as a group trying to bring about substantive societal change. Simply put, both of these books are about FIGHTING.

And, get this, the first one I’m reading is about a clergy wife — a British one — who, far from fulfilling the stereotype of a woman who is content to be nice to everyone and help out at Sunday school, is aspiring to become a black belt in judo! Take a look at the full title of her book, with a bright orange cover:

How happy she is to have just leveled a guy! Full credit goes to my friend Sal (also a clergy wife, and legitimately British, too) who sent me a tip about this book; maybe it was her husband Jay who passed along the tip, actually. Somehow I missed it when it first got published, being on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean and all, not to mention fully immersed in raising kids who were then 15, 13 and eight, with plenty of driving back and forth to church and sports and music lessons. But I’ve found it now, and I’m happy to say that it’s hilarious. I mean, she dares to call herself a killing machine — wow.

Many of you know that her main title comes from 1 Timothy 6:12 which goes, “Fight the good fight of the faith” (italics mine). Ha! She’s a church-goer, yes, but she makes clear that the activity she’s describing here is not at all metaphorical.

I’m not finished reading yet, but I daresay she takes a bit of liberty with the sub-title because the story doesn’t exactly have her abandoning the role of vicar’s wife entirely — just, let’s say, taking on an added and perhaps complementary role.

Here’s how she explains her different identities. I’m quoting from a few paragraphs, enough to give you a dollop of her humor. Of course, there’s not an inkling of Covid-19 yet:

Church is the other significant part of my life, and although it’s more sociable than sitting in my study reading and writing, it isn’t a whole lot more physical. Apart from the odd barn dance or stampede to the dessert table at a bring-and-share lunch, the most physical contact we get in the C. of E. is when we are sharing the peace in Holy Communion. This is usually confined to a handshake, or perhaps a peck; but kissing is so easily bungled by socially challenged Anglicans that it’s simpler to retreat to your hymn book or start fumbling for your collection money.

So fighting offers a contrast, a spot of yang to go with the yin. It unleashes the killer instincts held in check by the twin domesticating forces of motherhood and the Church of England. Maybe this is why I find it a great stress-buster….

Maybe it’s this simple: either you are a fighter, or you aren’t. The midwife who delivered me, seeing me square my shoulders and bawl, apparently said to my mother, ‘My word, she’s going to be a real fighter!’

(pages 52-53)

She owns that part of herself, completely, without apology. Apparently, though, she also bakes a delicious “fairy cake.”

Now, of course we all know that she’s talking about a sport here, not some back-alley brawl. Furthermore, it’s not likely someone will write a book singing the praises of the kinds of fighting that do serious damage to people. Real wars bring terrible suffering. Even, let’s face it, when two family members go at it, hurling cruel words at one another, there’s generally not a whole lot of victory. And yet, often those kinds of fights need to erupt so that the truth is laid bare. Sometimes, too, we need to summon our strength to fight a disease: a necessary battle.

Here’s the second book that is definitely not in the tradition of Thich Nhat Hanh:

There’s that same word, even larger — it’s likely more of a noun than a verb — in the title, but besides being a brand new book, this one is on a completely different topic than Ms. Fox’s. The author is the Director of Polling at Harvard’s Kennedy School, and he’s interested in broad cultural and political movements, not people going one-on-one on a mat.

His main premise is that young people who are in their late teens and early to mid-twenties have witnessed a whole lot of pain already in their lives: 9/11, endless wars, environmental degradation, global warming, gun violence in schools, racial tension, difficulties with sexual identity, a sharply divided electorate. All the indicators show that their own mental health, broadly speaking, has also been teetering. There is also good news, however: like green shoots breaking through a frozen ground, they are — as a group — pushing upwards towards the light. Not just standing by apathetically, millions of Z-ers are willing to fight against what’s clearly wrong in order to earn a better world.

While I wanted to finish reading this whole book, I packed it up and sent it right out to my son who is in his final semester of college. There’s no time to lose. One of the fronts where he’s becoming knowledgeable is how we grow and distribute and share food. Fortunately, in addition to having Zoom interviews, he’s also taking a course in Buddhism. I have faith that he and many of his peers are trying to figure out just how to stay centered in their own selves, maintaining a sense of inner peace, while also reaching out to face the worthy battles that await them.

This week, I plan to cultivate mindfulness, release stress by smashing overheads and working out with weights, and get on board with at least one important Gen Z crusade. OK, maybe not all at the same time.

Any fights in your future? Seeking peace above all? I’d love to hear.