Identity

The “It” We’re All Getting On With

 

I went to college at 27, the oldest freshman Amherst had ever admitted I was told.  After my junior year I took a year’s sabbatical.  A romantic entanglement was getting in the way of my studies.  I needed time to allow the relationship to work itself out.  Turns out, that romance died at the same time I met the love of my life and two children who were to become our daughters.  Upon my return, a professor, learning of my year away, said, “Gee, I’m surprised.  I would have thought at your age you’d want to finish up and get on with it.”  That statement is one of the most important things anyone has ever said to me.

It led me to ask what was this “it” I would be getting on with––and why did I need to finish up my wonderful undergraduate experience in order to do so? Read More

Living in Color

 

Whenever I put myself in the place of those men and women of color whose lives are disrupted harshly for no reason other than the unmanaged fear of a white person––I can fantasize doing something pretty ugly.  

But of course I’m a spiritual guy.  So I take two or three years and calm down.  That’s what it feels like anyway.  And along the way I ask myself: How would I want to respond if that happened to me?

The first time I asked that I got slapped.  Hit by my own presumption.  Put myself in the position of a person of color?  I have no more ability to do that than I do of being a woman.  Or anyone else who must live in a culture where intrenched beliefs compound, often dangerously, the challenges of living that are common to us all.

News stories abound.  Waiting for a friend in a Philly Starbucks; taking a Colorado State college tour; napping in a Yale common room; being an Airbnb guest in California.  Much less driving while black, or doing pretty much anything while a color other than white.  What’s the equivalent for an elder paleface, a Mr. Rogers wannabe?  There isn’t any, at least none that’s happened to me. Read More

Being More Than Anything We Can Imagine

It was Steve Jobs’ parting gift.  The Apple founder saw to it that each member of the packed house at his memorial service, which included a dazzling representation of who’s who, departed with a copy of the spiritual classic, “Autobiography of a Yogi”.  I can only imagine what it was about the book, published in 1949, and its author, Paramahansa Yogananda (1893-1952), that so captivated Mr. Jobs that he wanted the swami’s wisdom to touch some of the world’s most influential people.  One possibility is Yogananda’s loving embrace of the totality of humankind, as well as the simplicity and depth of his understanding.  Mr. Jobs, after all, aspired to create computer technology that would provide the equivalent of a bicycle for the mind to virtually everyone on earth.  It’s a small step to also imagine him being especially intrigued by Yogananda’s counsel that every life circumstance can be effectively addressed with the judicious use of a single question: “Who am I?”  Discovering our answer to that question may be life’s most rewarding pursuit, beginning with realizing who we are not.  A sinner, for instance.

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"The push to change the words “nigger” and “injun” in Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, because the so-called offensive nature of those terms might limit today’s readership and appreciation of that literary classic, is a wonderful opportunity to reflect on how we avoid taking responsibility for our feelings––and therefore miss the chance to become more awake, more whole, more useful friends to one another."

The Essay: The Gold in Niggers and Injuns