Its the middle of the night. I'm having a bad one and can't sleep. All day I have been distracting myself.
It is the anniversary of when my dad died suddenly. Its been two years but feels like it was yesterday. I have been distracting myself all day reading. I read so much today. Devoured articles online about all sorts of things, I read a lot of survivors stories, it was as if I was looking for reasons, for answers. As if somewhere in amongst the crazy stories, the miracles and the sad tales I would find some explanation.
But its beginning to feel the same ways as what they say to those visiting Auschwitz that you will find no answers there, only questions. For those that search for understanding in the red brick reality, you only find incomprehension. It seems the same applies to all suffering. A nagging turmoil, a mystery, a why?; an old you you grieve for and/or try to forget, a new you who sees with different eyes.
People frustrate me who are just concerned with their own lives, their own families, the latest music/gadgets. They're happy, they seek fleeting pleasures. I feel like an alien. I want to yell at them 'Look at all these people out there suffering' Why don't they want to help them? Until violence or suffering happens to someone or their loved ones it strikes me that most people don't give a damn. It's amazing when you find people who do, and then I think that there must be a reason; they experienced some kind of loss or confronation with the 'realities' of life.
Sometimes I feel like I am so ineffective, I want to wake people; 'sensitise' them as Elie Wiesel puts it. I have been sensitising for twenty years. And the monster only seems to grow larger and more malign. But you can't put down the torch. Not when you've seen the suffering of others and felt it as your own, or when you have suffered and suddenly you see others as yourself. They hurt, you hurt. It is that simple. What I am learning is that we are not to blame for the state of the world. Indeed much of it is beyond our control, it would take many lifetimes to change all of it. Now and then supreme leaders come along apparently just when they are needed. Not all of us are born to be them, but so many more people are doing gigantic jobs in their limited spheres of influence. There are many lives, many lifetimes of people working heroically together on this planet to make it a better place. We may feel that we are one person swatting at an elephant, when actually there are hundreds of thousands of us, day in, day out, trying to undo the wrongs, and do the rights.
'We should save the old growth forest as a matter of national defence. Mycelium has over 1000 active index against H5N1 virus' Says Paul Stamets mycologist
'I think engaging mycelium can help save the world' You can read the transcript here
Buy a Life Box and plant an Old Growth Forest in your back yard! Even if it is just a yard... It could just save the planet or make a new one habitable!
I have just finished reading this book The Memory Room by Mary Krakow. This was one of the books I was lucky to be given in Sheenalashay's Giveaway this month. The book is a powerful narrative in prose and poetry and weaves some of the words of Paul Celan's poetry particularly his poem Todesfuge or Deathfugue; John Felsteiner's translation is shown below and you can hear Paul Celan reading his work in the Youtube video underneath.
Mary Rakow describes the healing journey of a woman who has suffered indescribable torments at the hands of her parents as a child. Throughout you see painted the will with which a child attempts to both preserve their life and their sense of goodness, sanity and humanity. My conclusion immediately upon finishing was that we do not say No to suffering as forcefully as we should and that there should be nothing ambiguous about our response to violence. Her character 'Barbara' seeks and creates solace in places and things where she can find some semblance of safety away from all the reminders of the harrowing moments that have been etched into her memory and her existence. At one point she describes it as 'A basket lined with memory like pitch' and in returning to a favourite place of refuge near an image of St Michael she writes '...Evil can be overcome. Again, I ask, until I believe you may I rest beside your leather shoe.' Such a beautiful embodiment of that feeling, of the desire in us to believe we can thwart such violence against our and other's being, juxtaposed with our utter helplessness that all violence renders upon its victims.
Gradually with the help of a patient therapist we see her begin to emerge as a whole person, piecing together her psyche. 'I did not know until then what a barn coming out of winter could smell like... I thought for sure I heard tulips underground discuss the time of their appearing.'
She is startled and undone by the weave of fabrics or certain compositions of music that she associates with devastating horror. Yet at the same time it is art, and music that provides a refuge, and an answer to humanity's eternal question. We ask why are we, but equally this book asks why are we as we are? And crucially can we be any different? She writes 'This is my goal that my memories become like Monet's Waterlilies. Soft brushstroke and bold. Ivory pink and a hundred shades of blameless blue.'
We are led with her as she regains memories long buried and with good reason, and struggles to lay them to rest. We learn about the unspoken violence that others have suffered, remained silent about and remained damaged by as a result. 'Dolores Mary is seventy years old. For half a century she has had night lights burning in every room'
Mary Krakow writes so beautifully it undermines you, in the sense of being mined beneath the solidity of your own psyche; of having your perspectives stolen and remoulded, deepened and enlarged with profound yet simple sentences and subtle prose. We see her character search for meaning and answers through other real people who have searched and not found answers, at least not answer that would allow them to continue living. We are highly sensitised to the suffering of others through Barbara's anguish, her collecting of news clippings and understanding of the devastation of violence and abuse in childhood.
It really allows you to look through new eyes, and yet in a way soothes you as Barbara soothes herself with rhyme and couplet, empathy and the random acts of kindness of neighbours and loved ones who though they may not understand; try and in their trying unwittingly become modest heroes. Sometimes heroism is implied by what you do not do and have not done.
My conclusion that 'we do not say "No" to suffering as forcefully as we should and that there should be nothing ambiguous about our response to violence' was very clear upon finishing this book. I thought a moments silence; you almost want to hold the book like a ship in a bottle out before you and wonder at it and then I thought we do not say No to suffering as forcefully as we should.
Here is a desperate clinging in to humanity for hope and to make sense of existence. As Elie Wiesel says'...Despair is not an answer despair is a question... I believe in the humanity of the human being, I have problems with God - that's because I believe in God, if I stopped believing in god I would have no problems, but I do believe and therefore I have problems and I go on... If I was alone totally alone I would have the right to give into despair - but I am not alone and therefore I have no right to give into despair, I must.. to quote Camut 'I must invent hope where there is none' Not for my sake but for the sake of the children' ' Elie Wiesel
It is also for ourselves that we must 'invent hope' whether it be found in Art, Music or companionship. Or in acts of a generous nature assisting those who are not free, or do not have the means to fulfil their potential - to do so.
It dwells much on the purpose of life, on the human condition. Buddhism describes our human birth as implicitly entwined with suffering and yet it equally describes a pure unadulterated awareness beyond this that is not maligned by any labels of good or bad, of this or that.
We are all of us reeling from so many wrongs. Born into childhoods of suffering or growing up into such moments. We all of us will face loss, we have changes in our fortune. Sometimes we meet people, who assist us in our understanding, who give us tools with which we may arm ourselves against suffering or which help us overcome injustice. Here is a book that does both these. It demands you to be stronger, gentler, long sighted and yet acutely present. You cannot read this and not glimpse some of the finest qualities of humanity outlined as they are against a bare skyline of atrocity and condemnation. They are bleak those places we must attend to in order to heal. You must sift through them for answers. Auschwitz exists as a memorial, people go there almost as an act of pilgrimage - a search for answers and yet survivors will tell you - there are no answers there only more questions.
Yet this state of disbelief, of ambiguity, of shock and questioning leads directly to the abuse and deaths of innocents. We need to be decisive; to say NO to suffering. To show our unwillingness to allow such events to unfold. If necessary we should have a ready willingness to risk our lives to curtail it. We know now the many routes it can take to come into existence; negligence, neutrality, sitting on a fence, not committing oneself, taking sides, not taking sides, silence and time. Silence and time are two of the most damaging precursors to an act of violation. If we do not know we must find out... If we do know, we must not hide behind our belief that we are inadequate to effect change. Or that do not know enough. Injustice often wears a disguise and we must have eyes to see through such disguises.
Silence and time.
We have on our side history, freedom of speech, law, an emerging international community, the ability to communicate immediately and to record what is happening. We have pitfalls; isolation, the dismembering of the family, of traditional communities, economic segregation. We have heroes - everywhere. They speak up, they shout, the join together as powerful people. We have laws to be undone, and new laws to create that will serve rather than force us into servitude.
This then is our work. To offer great ease of suffering where we can. To find out our path in this. Whether you read a piece like Rakow's, or write it; or are in it suffering like Barbara, or you are seeing it unfold before your eyes; two enemies we all share are silence and time. Must we always see violence from the other side after it has been committed? Or can we pre-empt this with far-sightedness?
I think we can live in this world together, without violence, but instead raising each other up. A peaceful world is possible, there are examples of peace everywhere, you simply have to look for them. People are healing and helping each other to heal. People are caring for all kinds and all creatures. It is possible that we can start living in a peaceful world but only if we acknowledge the holocausts of the present the Deathfugue that sounds out all around us in conflict, violence, human trafficking, environmental degradation. Is the application of human rights only for those who economically qualify? The only rule for having your human rights respected should be that you are human. Those who have been without such rights such as Elie Wiesel know full well their value 'I felt really elated; I had never had a passport in my life. In France I was stateless. And here in America finally I became a citizen, I cannot tell you what I felt really. I felt so proud. The highest honorus I received at the Universities was nothing compared to that I had a passport. For those that are already in America they take it for granted but for a refugee it means something.' As we know, a child has the least rights of anyone and this is why such horrible stories as Rakow recounts can unfold; we must be attentive to the needs of the child and above all listen to them.
We can continue in our present form of prejudice, or we can move towards an enlightened society that does not distinguish one human from another based on nationality or social standing etc We need to become socially, culturally, environmentally and economically sustainable. Just as Mary Rakow's character had to find a way and a reason to heal and continue living, we must do the same as a society and we can only do this together.
Todesfuge or Deathfugue
Black milk of daybreak we drink it at evening we drink it at midday and morning we drink it at night we drink and we drink we shovel a grave in the air there you won't lie too cramped A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margareta he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are all sparkling, he whistles his hounds to come close he whistles his Jews into rows has them shovel a grave in the ground he commands us to play up for the dance.
Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night we drink you at morning and midday we drink you at evening we drink and we drink A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margareta Your ashen hair Shulamith we shovel a grave in the air there you won't lie too cramped
He shouts jab the earth deeper you lot there you others sing up and play he grabs for the rod in his belt he swings it his eyes are so blue jab your spades deeper you lot there you others play on for the dancing
Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night we drink you at midday and morning we drink you at evening we drink and we drink a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margareta your aschenes Haar Shulamith he plays his vipers He shouts play death more sweetly this Death is a master from Deutschland he shouts scrape your strings darker you'll rise then as smoke to the sky you'll have a grave then in the clouds there you won't lie too cramped
Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night we drink you at midday Death is a master aus Deutschland we drink you at evening and morning we drink and we drink this Death is ein Meister aus Deutschland his eye it is blue he shoots you with shot made of lead shoots you level and true a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margarete he looses his hounds on us grants us a grave in the air he plays with his vipers and daydreams der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland
dein goldenes Haar Margarete dein aschenes Haar Shulamith
There is no difference between the thought or lack of thought about the Roma having their homes destroyed, being ousted from France, and shunted to Romania (a country they chose to leave) as the thoughts or thoughtlessness of the policemen who shut the doors of the cattle trucks on the Jews in the Holocaust. The only difference is the eyes of the world. There are more eyes now than there were then. There are less Nazis and their fate (we assume) will be different and yet the actions are exactly the same. It is division, it is economic racism, it is discrimination, I want no part of it. Yet here am I in France.
In July we saw the camp near Moulins cleared. It had been there for longer than I have been in the country. I assumed they had been given another 'official' site. However, knowing the treatment that people like travellers receive at the hands of the 'authorities' I must assume that their caravans/homes have been taken from them and they have nothing but what they are 'provided' with - I wonder what fate the government has decided their pets or animals will have - will they also be sent back to Romania?
There are other better ways to address the issues that once upon a time were not issues at all. It is a consequence of the cataloguing of human beings. I expect it won't be much longer before we're asked to queue for our barcode tattoos/chips. Wait a minute I already have one of those on my passport.
I don't somehow, think that this is an application to increase freedom. The Roma's choice has been taken away. A human right has been bulldozed right before the eyes of everyone. I respected France; they had laws against GM food, they stood up for things that may have taken away their freedoms, blocked roads and stalled the country if they had too. They came out in droves to protest when the right wing could have got power. Why then the inaction? What is so frightening about crumbling caravan sites with people who are trying to eke out a lifestyle on the edge of so called society; people who have been given no options. There is no box on a form for those wishing to retain their freedom and identity and there should be.
There should be paperwork for everyone, or at least the assumption of a right to land and tenure ship while you are on that land, and those rights should be respected. Immigrants should have provisional passports that give them the same rights as everyone else; homeless people should be given an address at least that they can use as their own for filling out forms. What is so hard about recognising your fellow human beings as just that?
These are people who are deserving of the most deference and generosity. Persecuted through out centuries; their means of making a living literally whittled away until the few options left to them include crime or disenfranchisement from local communities. Embrace and adopt them - don't amputate them like a diseased limb - they are human beings. Everyone should have human rights
Article 1 -We 'should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.' Article 2 'Everyone is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration, without distinction of any kind,' Article 3 'Everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of person' ... Article 6 'Everyone has the right to recognition everywhere as a person before the law.' Article 7 'All...are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law' Article 9 'No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile.'
Clearly none of the above have been taken into consideration n the actions of the Government of France pertaining to the Roma People. It begs the question are human rights in this day and age only applicable to those identified by the law, conforming to the law, having the right paperwork and economic contributions to society? Or are human rights a birthright bestowed upon you at birth, qualified by you because of your status as a human being? I know the answer to that question, it would seem that the government of France does not.
What should happen now is this. The forced 'exile' of the Roma should stop. Those who have already been repatriated - which is a term that is not correct; the Roma do not belong to a country specific, they belong to themselves as a people and should have the right to travel freely as a consequence of identifying as such - they should be given the means to return to France if they so choose. There nomadic lifestyle should be assisted; not corralled and they should be given the rights of anyone who chooses to live in a house or stationary place of residence. Here lies the problem. Place of residence As a human being my identity is broader than the country I was born in and the place I choose to live in. There should be an International Passport for those of us unconstrained by nationality. We should be assisted in our identifying ourselves as global citizens rather than demonised for life experiences that have led to inadequate paperwork.
France could continue as myopically as it has been recently, or it could set the precedent for an enlightened society. It has the space, the opportunity and the resources to do so. Failing the government to act thus - the people should act on their own initiative, not through violence or crime, but through generosity of spirit and a spirit inclusiveness. We should share what we have.
I have my own antiques This rock, this majestic soil Passed through the gullets of Pharoahs Shat out into the Nile Washing up at my feet Antique
I can hear Joan of Arc’s voice still Ringing from the stake And God stood at her side as She screamed and burned and succumbed To humanity’s fate.
It is the arrogance of men they should put in museums We should go there to look at its folly And wander the cool mausoleums Where the dead hide their stories And their horrors
See the blue sky Grab it while you can Before you’re raped and mutilated At the hands of stinking men
Leaves a bad taste in my mouth Like radiation To live in a world where a woman’s Silence deafens the screams of her Suffering and writhing to get away And clawing, and screaming the Names of her children to ‘Run, run’ run To safety or to remain quiet with A look from her eyes, As she looks through the unseeing Men as they pull at her clothes, To where her children hide
Disclaimer - 'All creations declares the praises of the Lord' is the perspective of the film maker whose endeavours I highly respect.
My personal opinion - I personally find 'the Lord' a constrictive term to my experience and am more inclined to praise the crickets and their inherent divinity and the metaphysical presence of Dr Seuss in the universe
Who should clean this mess up? Should the Arab world take more of an active stance? Who is arming these people?
Will it continue to be the case that Arms dealers from Russia, China, Israel, India and big business in the US continue to make money on the backs of this sort of suffering? No it will not continue, it cannot continue. Should we arm the women so that they can protect themselves, their children, their livestock and their villages - at least then they would be on an almost equal footing with those 'that come on horseback and by air' to destroy them an their homes. There are certain people that it serves to have an immoral politician in the seat of government who will turn a blind eye to the smashing and grabbing of resources in return for wealth. It is my opinion that they should also be up for war crimes - because they are paying for them...
If you foot the bill of a war crime then you are complicit. It strikes me that you want this turmoil to exist between the Arab world and the rest of it because it serves you.
If I was the International Criminal Court I would find out who arms these people, who pays the bill and that is who I would arrest for war crimes. Perhaps that would mean condemning these countries/companies.
Whatever it takes to stop 'business'. Whatever it takes - that's what we need to do. And we need to help the ordinary folk. Who need the cavalry. They need to be seen as the last marine that the rest never leave behind. because we are leaving these 6year olds and 70 to be raped and brutalised. We are leaving these so militias to mercilessly burn and kill. We are letting this happen.
We are complicit by our inaction. Anybody want to start paying for some security for these people? I mean anyone can buy a militia nowadays. Are there any wealthy humanitarians out there who wouldn't mind seeing the back of some of these dirty dealing folk be they arms manufacturers or genocidal dictators and monsterous militias. Either they turn themselves over to the ICC or someone scary will come and get them. The scary good guys. In WW2 millions of people fought to bring an end to such abominations. People want to bring it to an end now. We don't want to hear any more stories on the news of the latest barbaric atrocities carried out with no repercussions. We want repercussions. I want repercussions.
Why hasn't Omar Al Bashir been arrested? Er, I don't know - why hasn't Omar Al Bashir been arrested? Because...
If you know the answer to this question please contact me. I want to know and also you might be able to tell me how we can stop the murdering/raping b******** Don't you think that if someone doesn't comply with UN human rights laws that someone should at least take their sweeties away?
When I went to Auschwitz I couldn’t believe what human beings did to each other even as I stood with my feet on that ground. No doubt the same disbelief went through those people as their breath was stolen from them. Is it that we have to believe it to stop it? Do you have to say ’Yes’ without any trace of wishful thinking or escapism, ‘Yes, this is how it is’. To stop fighting the truth with denial, with doubt and with anything that makes it less real. We spend a lot of our time making life look as little like its real self as possible. We are the plastic surgeons of our life. The last thing we want to face is our impermanence – our one hard solid truth, more reliable than God; a truth as hard and solid as its counterpart; existence. Our awareness and our awareness of our impermanence do this awkward dance in life; it will always end the same.
Until we put our faith in the truths that are apparent, we may as well float around in a spinning teacup looking at the stars for all that we will ever find out and learn about ourselves. And if we want to stop suffering; well, then we really have to take off our tinted glasses and take a good hard look around us. We need a curing song. Our souls are starving as we stock the supermarkets of our days with false nutrition.We swallow a pill to mask our hunger pains. We want truth, understanding,, an answer to our ‘whys’. We want security and control and will even avoid joy to have such certainty. We cling to suffering; it is an old old friend. We know the outlines of its face, the haunting of its sorrows, the weight of it about our shoulders. But when we start feeding ourselves joy, and bliss, divine stories, unassailable truths; such a little nutrition begins to persuade us that it comes down to the way we look with our eyes, the way we hold with our hands, the way we enunciate andalliterate life with love.
The suffering happens because we enact it. It is a play we prompt and allow to unfold; and are forced to watch.But what I know is that there is a final act and that played out upon the same stage is a dance of joy, a poet’s rendition of recuperation. After all of it is said and done it is a stage that we are standing on, with all the plays of the world upon it and we are the Shakespeare sprinkling tragedies and comedies upon it. What never changes is that stage. It is unsullied by joy or suffering. It is reliable, it is pure, it is the same shining awareness that runs through all things.
Here is one of my favourite poems by the Yuma Indians of North America:-
The Curing Song
Your heart is good. (Spirit) Shining Darkness will be here. You think only of sad unpleasant things, You are to think of goodness. Lie down and sleep here. Shining darkness will join us. You think of this goodness in your dream. Goodness will be given to you, I will speak for it, and it will come to pass. It will happen here, I will ask for your good, It will happen as I sit by you, It will be done as I sit here in this place.
As much as I am undone by suffering and walk through it in lost disbelief, disassociating, denying, wishing it away. It undoes me in away that forces me to unfold, it bruises my ignorance, it bullies my stuckpoints until they give way. I wonder - can't such a thing be done with love. I think it can, but when I think of how stubborn and willful we are as children; how a mother has to watch her child make mistakes, get hurt, before she can rush in with a mother's love; I wonder if it isn't like this also on the big scale of things. Such a warmth of love can envelop us when we finally surrender to understanding. I think this can take more than one life. That's why I think there are so many inexplicable tragedies; things that happen to good people; our lense is to small to see the whole picture. Really what tiny focuses we have got.
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