Putting out the fire
A meditation on the state of things.
In previous writings I have referenced the imagery of fire in a positive sense, as something to preserve. The sacred fire of liberty. The spiritual fire at the core of the human condition.
But I have been reading some Buddhist texts recently, and in that tradition, fire is described negatively, as something to extinguish.
In a book called The Heart of Buddha’s Teaching, Thich Nhat Hanh writes,
If our mind has craving, anger, and harming, we are like a house on fire. If craving, anger, and harming are absent from our minds, we produce a cool, clear lotus lake.
The practice is to become aware of our negative mental habits and understand how they cause us to suffer.
The opposite of suffering is well-being. We can water the seeds of well-being in our minds, and the seeds will grow.
Putting out the fire, according to Thich Nhat Hanh, is the path to Nirvana:
Nirvana means pacifying, silencing, or extinguishing the fire of suffering. Nirvana teaches that we already are what we want to become. We don't have to run after anything anymore. We only need to return to ourselves and touch our true nature. When we do, we have real peace and joy.
Our suffering and well-being does not only affect ourselves, because everyone and everything is interconnected.
I am fascinated by the intersection of psychology and religion. The “mystics” or spiritual teachers of different faith traditions often converge, finding more in agreement than the doctrines of their religions might suggest.
Anthony de Mello was a Jesuit priest and psychotherapist from India. His teachings blended the spiritual wisdom of the East and West. In his book Awareness he writes,
Before enlightenment, I used to be depressed. After enlightenment, I continue to be depressed. But there is a difference. I don’t identify with it anymore.
Spiritual awareness — whether Buddhist or Christian — is not about the elimination of pain or suffering. The question is whether we can face reality without clinging to disordered attachments.
Suffering is a reality.
Happiness is also a reality.
Anthony de Mello:
We were told that happiness is a smooth complexion, a holiday resort. It isn’t these things, but we have subtle ways of making our happiness depend on other things, both within us and outside us. We say, “I refuse to be happy until my neurosis goes.” I have good news for you: You can be happy right now, with the neurosis.
A hard concept to realize, but worthwhile to ponder anyway.
My mind is on meditation because I am bracing myself for the great uncertainty ahead of us in the wake of this past week’s election.
We were already living through a time of social and political convulsion. Digital technology was transforming how we interact with each other and how we process information. The old-guard political establishment was growing fat and happy, with eruptions of discontent starting to appear.
It turns out that November 2016 was a tremor.
November 2024 is the earthquake.
The political establishment has been officially overthrown in the United States.
My concern is that the new guard is untethered from the mores and morals we like to hang our hats on.
My hope is that the fire of populism will burn itself out before it consumes us, and we can grow new sprouts from there.
Ross Douthat wrote a perceptive book in 2020 called The Decadent Society. I wrote a review of the book in a short blog post after I read it. Here is my summary of the book’s thesis:
In short, Douthat argues that we live in a time of political, economic, and cultural stagnation. We might be a rich and powerful country, but we’re not inventing anything new — not really. We’re not exploring or discovering or progressing like past generations of Americans. We haven’t colonized the moon or even set foot on Mars. We’re still burning fossil fuels to get around. We’re not enacting significant reforms. We’re running on a treadmill. Our popular culture is recycling old tropes and trends.
Yes, we have digital technology, but Douthat thinks these shiny objects provide an illusion of real progress. Silicon Valley has changed the way we do things, but these companies haven’t ushered in the kinds of technological transformations someone in 1975 might have imagined for the year 2020.
At the time I wrote the blog review, I wondered if the pandemic might be the disruptive force that jolted us awake from our decadence. It didn’t. At least not right away. I think the pandemic did have the effect of making us go a little crazy.
Our decadence has seemingly caused us to turn inward against each other. A new kind of religious fervor has embedded itself into our politics, with one side now triumphant over the other.
A lot of people voted in 2024 for a return to normalcy — for what things were like before the pandemic.
But I am pretty sure that’s not what we’re going to get. The triumphant coalition of 2024 is much different from the triumphant coalition of 2016. The nationalists and the populists and the cranks are front and center this time around. The conservatives are in a much weaker position.
I don’t pretend to know what will happen, but I think the slogan “we’re not going back” will turn out to be true after all.
In times of worldly uncertainty, my mind naturally turns to deeper questions like, “What is it all about?” and “How do we cope with historical tides that seem to have a life of their own?”
At the end of the day, theological reflection is not just about coping with things, but seeing reality for what it is, and acting accordingly.
My own religious background is in Christianity. I grew up attending Protestant churches, but converted to Catholicism as a young adult after working and studying in Jesuit academic institutions. I don’t practice much anymore, but I am still interested in reading religious texts and pondering the meaning of it all.
There is some overlap in the ethical teachings of Christianity and Buddhism. “Love your enemies” has something in common with extinguishing the fire of hatred. Both traditions see gratitude as a virtue. Both traditions seek to move people away from fear.
The country right now is a mixture of fear and hope, anger and optimism.
Only time will tell how our history will unfold.
For my part, I will try to stay grounded by staying mindful. Taking a breath. Putting one foot in front of the other. Enjoying the cool breeze of a fall morning in Phoenix.