I lived in a small apartment in an upscale community complex in Mumbai (at the time of writing this). Yesterday, I saw a common notice about the steps being taken towards safe guarding ourselves during the ongoing corona pandemic. A lot of it made sense but one of the items on the list made me stop in my tracks; it read:
Friends & residents should use the main lifts while maids & househelp are restricted to using service lifts only
Notice board of an upscale residential community complex in Mumbai
Ironically, I had gone downstairs to collect my supplies from delivery men (two actually), who were out there risking themselves (perhaps out of compulsion, perhaps not) and his family’s health, so we could have all our essential supplies home delivered. As I stood there, a meter or so behind the couple who were ahead of me and watched, I saw everyone taking all the necessary precautions, acting responsibly for themselves. However, not one asked or offered to check for the well-being of those heros, even after collecting their supplies. No one gave them a tip or a token of gratitude either. The delivery men worked for a company that delivered hand-santizers to us, but they weren’t given one to carry when they were out in contact with tens of families at their doorsteps each day.
In these times of a global pandemic, fear is a natural, instinctive emotion. The reflex reaction to fear can sometimes be us lashing out in an attempt at creating a safe heaven for ourselves. We hoard essentials creating sudden and artificial shortages for others, exclude the less privileged – even stifle or suppress them. What if the other side lashes out? In one of the scenarios, large scale riots could ensue. So we become afraid of this scenario too and do what? Is there a way to break this chain?
It reminded me of a story from a book by Pema Chodron, that I read last year when I was recovering from a personal crisis
“Once there was a young warrior. Her teacher told her that she had to do battle with fear. She didn’t want to do that. It seemed too aggressive; it was scary; it seemed unfriendly. But the teacher said she had to do it and gave her the instructions for the battle. The day arrived. The student warrior stood on one side, and fear stood on the other. The warrior was feeling very small, and fear was looking big and wrathful. They both had their weapons. The young warrior roused herself and went toward fear, prostrated three times, and asked, “May I have permission to go into battle with you?” Fear said, “Thank you for showing me so much respect that you ask permission.” Then the young warrior said, “How can I defeat you?” Fear replied, “My weapons are that I talk fast, and I get very close to your face. Then you get completely unnerved, and you do whatever I say. If you don’t do what I tell you, I have no power. You can listen to me, and you can have respect for me. You can even be convinced by me. But if you don’t do what I say, I have no power.” In that way, the student warrior learned how to defeat fear. ”
Chapter: Not causing harm, from the book When Things Fall Apart
Not harming ourselves, nor others is the foundation of a compassionate society. We harm ourselves by not having the courage and the compassion to see ourselves honestly, yet gently – for who we are. Instead, we project this outwards and expect others or the world to change so we can stay in our comfort zone. We manipulate others in an attempt to try and fit the story in our heads. At the same time, we also play victim by feeling manipulated or helpless or angry. The first step to break this chain is to see clearly that this is what is happening.
Once we see it, we can instead learn to pause. To acknowledge the fear. To not impulsively feed this cycle of aggression.
It’s a transformative experience to simply pause instead of immediately filling up the space. By waiting, we being to connect with fundamental restlessness as well as fundamental spaciousness. The result is that we cease to cause harm. We begin to know ourselves thoroughly and to respect ourselves[…] by coming to know ourselves, thoroughly processed by this honest, gentle mindfulness.
Pema Chodron
Today, our leader in India called for an all-day, self imposed curfew (Junta Curfew) along with a ritual of clapping and clamouring for the brave souls who need to be out there to maintain essential services. For the first time since I was a child, I experienced a feeling of community when I heard and joined (from within my house) in clapping & ringing the bells. I spoke to my sister, who lives in a different city, later in the evening and she too had participated along with her husband and startled dog. As I spoke to her, suddenly my thoughts cleared out and I wanted to write this down, so I can come back and remind myself from time to time.
Shared rituals help create a sense of community, which has more meaning now than anytime in our lifetime. Now more than at any time in our lives, we will be judged by our capacity for compassion. When this is over, and it will be over, we want to look back at this time & remember the many small acts of kindness, done to us and by us.
edited – anonymous
