Where were you on September 11?

Today, the world remembers the terrible events that took place in New York. More exactly, we are invited to spare a minute for the many innocent lives lost to the terrorist acts of a terrorist organisation we now know is called Al Qaeda. I have shared my thoughts and reflections on this tragic event every year on this blog since I launched it. Undoubtedly, the events which took place on September 11 changed the course of our futures for ever. Yet, now I am a bit reluctant to write because enough has been said and written that any word I add appears superfluous and, indeed, a way to draw praise.

On the other hand, in spite of risking to go with the flow, I feel that I can’t just let the day pass by without reflecting on the implications September 11 had on the world and how we relate to each other. In addition, I was lucky enough to have gone on top of the World Trade Centre (WTC) when I was visiting my relatives who live in the US. In fact, when I heard the news, my thoughts turned to my relatives abroad and, for a minute, it seemed I relived the times I had been one day there as a tourist.

Moreover, since the WTC, one of the buildings hit by the planes hijacked by the suicide bombers was also place where people from around the world could work together, it can be argued that the attacks against that particular building was an attack on the whole world. Obviously, it’s natural that after people learned of the people behind the attack, many hearts were hardened and the minds were poisoned by hate and resentment of the other, the “enemy”.

The fact that we would learn that Islamic extremists were behind all this would also fuel the growth of anti-Islamic sentiments still evident across the world. What should be a religion of peace which shared with its monotheist sisters - Judaism and Christianity - continued to transform itself, in people’s minds - to a religion of hate and violence. Thus, enforcing the divisions that already existed between peoples. A division that would erode any hope of peaceful dialogue and peaceful communication as the majority of the West chose to employ the very means of war and violence it had so heavily deplored.

Yet, the truth is that those who were and who are responsible for acts of violence and atrocities aren’t Muslims but, rather, using Islam to achieve their political ambitions and to eradicate all those they perceive to b a threat to their position and power. Yet, military action, as we have seen in the past, rarely achieves its aims. The more our response is that of violence and the more we cling to our feelings of hatred and resentment, the more we fortify the image of the “other” as the “enemy”. Thus, we may fail to understand that, even behind the most atrocious human acts, there’s a reason. Irrational, yes, but it is there.

For everyone justly spoke up against the attacks of September 11 but, I suspect, only a few of us really tried to understand why all this happened. While those leading the immoral cause of Islamism or to force the whole world to convert to Islam according to Al Qaeda, may be motivated by power and control, the people supporting and helping them may really believe that they have suffered too much misery when under Western rule that the only solution is to bear arms and fight.

We can’t forget our responsibility as our Western powers can’t be said to have been totally innocent and didn’t or aren’t still exploiting the natural resources of nations of the majority world* to build their own technology and infrastructure. Have we forgotten the many innocent casualties of random attacks/? In no way, does this justify violent and terrorist acts. However, we must be aware that we are also responsible for certain realities present in other nations simply because we value the land instead of the people who inhabit it. We’re ready to poison water supplies, cut down trees and keeping in power those we think we can trust not to oppose our authority.

Of course, there is also a lot of good we do, as Western nations, in the world to alleviate suffering. And wile it’s debatable whether September 11 could have been prevented, it’s true that it was a result, in part, of a collective arrogance and indifference in the ways we often act in countries where we think of people living there as somewhat beneath us.

What the world has gone through on September 11 should be a reminder of the urgent importance of keeping our channels of communication open. To listen and engage in peaceful dialogue and negotiations when we can’t agree. To open our heart and mind and truly listen to what the “other” is saying. To remember the victims on September 11 burt to be prepared to let go of all our feelings of enmity and distrust. To be prepared to work together as we remain human beings who share a lot in common. Humans who share in our hopes and dreams, who have our fears and nightmares, and who want, ultimately to live a happy life.

Yes, I remember September 11. Yet, my thoughts also go out to Syria and to others who are dying right now because of famine and conflict. t. Thankfully, it was decided that, at present, no military intervention will be carried out against Syria but the path of dialogue and negotiation will be now pursued. Have prayers been answered? Or, more likely, the voices of peace have been heard and taken note of. Favouring one side over the other - who both claim they’re protecting the people - would have meant certain disaster and more bloodshed and acts of violence from both sides.

I conclude by asking the question which is also the title of this entry:

“Where were you before September 11?”

This isn’t a question to know where you were then. It’s rather a question that is intended to provoke you to think about how you viewed the world before September 11.

Have you thought about such a horrible thing happening?

Did you support peace and justice or did you go on life without caring?

Did you choose not to care about people who you thought were far away and, thus, insignificant?

Don’t worry if you answered yes to all these questions.

The truth is that, if anything, September 11 made us aware of the fact that we are connected with each other more than we thought. Even if it did harden some hearts, it should have awakened us to the fact that we depend on each other. We can’t afford to be indifferent to the injustices against others. We can’t ignore the environmental impact we’re having on our planet as all of us depend on it.

To truly honour those who died or would die as a consequence of the attacks on September 11, we must do our part in ensuring that our world remains a peaceful place that fosters an environment of mutual respect and cooperation.

One good place to start is within our own social circle and community.

But first we must cultivate the seeds of peace and compassion in our own hearts and minds!

I prefer to use the term "majority world" as opposed to "developing world" or "less developed" countries as the latter terms are making a value judgement about other nations and people assuming they are somewhat inferior. "Majority world" also reflects that the majority of the human population lives there. The opposite is true if I use the term "minority world".

A Day of Victory: Whose Victory Is It Anyway?

I've pondered on war and the consequences of violent conflict since we started hearing of the escalating violence in Syria. Yet, I considered writing about war and violence in earnest since in Malta, we celebrate Victory Day today, the 8th September.

Of course, September 8 also marks an important feast on the Catholic calendar as it's the commemoration of the birth of the Virgin Mary which is still a significant figure for a large number of Maltese citizens who tend to identify themselves as Catholic - even if they may not practice the faith. However, it's also a national holiday since two important events crucial to the history of Malta happened on that fateful 8th September.

The first event occurred in 1565 when Malta, then under the rule of the Holy Order of the Knights of Saint John, who with the help of the inhabitants managed to force a retreat of the forces coming from what was then an expanding Ottoman Empire. Apart from preserving the Christian religious identity many Maltese had adopted back then, historians have argued that if the Ottoman Empire had captured Malta as it had Rhodes, the whole of Christian Europe of the time would have been under threat.

The second victory happened in 1943 when Malta was saved from sure famine as convoys with essential food and supplies got to Malta thanks to the surrender of Italy. At the time, Malta was, once again, under foreign rule. This time, our country was a British colony.

If one thinks about it, none of these conflicts were initiated by the Maltese inhabitants themselves. One was taken up by the Knights of Saint John and, the other, by the British Empire. Granted, our descendants had it in their interest to protect their land and the limited resources they had from imposing powers and the intervention of our colonisers has, undoubtedly, saved us from certain invasion.

It’s also worth noting that our former “enemies" don’t exist as such any more. Italy is no longer fascist. The Ottoman Empire has disappeared. The same can be said about our past colonisers. Britain is no longer a great empire, even if it preserves some of its former aspirations, in a way, through the Commonwealth. As for the Knights of Saint John, it has no land of its own and only functions today more like a philanthropic organisation.

It can be argued that these victories ensured that Malta became the country it is today. Yet, these victories may be said to be victories for Malta but not necessarily belonging to the “Maltese” inhabitants. At the same time, those we had so vilified in the past are no longer our “enemies”. In fact, descendants of the old colonisers now join us in Europe and are our partners as well.

Unfortunately, some may celebrate Victory Day for the wrong reasons. Indeed, some appear to rejoice in Malta having slaughtered the invading soldiers of the Ottoman Empire or, else, celebrate the many deaths sustained by the fascist Italian forces and their humiliating defeat..

True, we may find the values that our “enemies” held , inconsistent to our own principles and ideals or even find them morally deplorable. However, we must not lose sight that beyond the "monstrosities" we project upon our "enemy", there are still human beings just like us. Besides, each side in the conflictt lost lives.

And many times, it is the younger generations who suffer the most in bloody conflicts since they are the strongest and usually the healthier people of a population and end up fighting the battles of others. Here, it's important to ask ourselves why? Why all this loss of life? One sure thing is that all this happens again and again. It is happening again right now in Syria and wherever there is violent conflicts taking place.

Granted, there may be various reasons for war. However, all may be rooted in a failure of communication. A failure to see other human beings as being our brothers and sisters. Clinging to power and control because we desire more. We become unresponsive to the pain of other humans because, in our mind, they cease to be human but become symbols of beliefs we despise. Violence and war becomes our only response to people we feel we lost control over.

In this sense, I find it a bit confusing to speak of victory on “Victory Day”. Yes, it’s a day when we remember all those who have died and whom made it possible for Malta and the Maltese to be what they are today. Yet, it shouldn’t be a manifestation in which we express our pride for having killed off invaders. Rather, it should be an occasion to remember all those who perished because they believed that they were fighting for a good cause - even if they might have been blindly following their leaders and superiors. Even if they might have been unaware of the ulterior or perverse motives of those who should be leading them.

On both occasions, Malta’s inhabitants where only trying to defend their land. Indeed, being an island, it was the only piece of rock they had. On the other hand, it must be said that both the Knights of Saint John during the Great Siege and the British during the war, protected Malta mainly due its location in the Mediterranean between Southern Europe and North Africa since it offers both powers with an ideal strategic position to conduct military operations against their enemies at that time. Strictly speaking, their effort to protect Malta wasn't an act performed out of any altruism or motivated by a genuine concern for the inhabitants. In fact, to the British of the time, Maltese people remained natives and naturally inferior to the English.

In truth, the divisions both us and the colonisers might have set remain creations of our minds and of the societies of our time. In fact,as history changed, we realise how meaningless many of the national values we believed in back then. And, except for a number of extremist and xenophobes, we don't don't explicitly believe that there are inferior and superior peoples.

But what does all this have to do with Syria?

We have a civil war escalating in Syria. Again, we witness a struggle of powers whom have defined one another in one of two main camps. Those who support the regime and those who want it destroyed. Some minorities find themselves excluded from both and threatened by an uncertain future. Battling parties are all competing for power and control. Some because they are being unjustly persecuted, others because they want to cling to power. Others even support one side over the other simply because they are seeking their own interests or justly fear that change might destroy them and deprive them of their freedom.

This is human nature. Everyone seeks to survive or gain advantage because they fail to acknowledge a common humanity. Even if war and violent action may be justified when parties persist in destroying the innocent and put lives at risk, it should be only the last resort and it should be moderate. I suspect that the path of war and violence appears to be favoured by Western powers depending on their affiliations with Syria in this case. So, it’s disheartening to hear that the US is close to undertake military action against the Syrian regime. However, I fear that this might cause greater waste of life and enforce divisions between the Syrian people - who will be the ones losing out in each case. Yet non-action would be equally devastating and unacceptable. That’s clear.

Yet, has the world took time to explore whether there are possibilities of peace and dialogue. Have we thought of ways of bringing justice to Syria by holding the perpetrators of violence accountable to their actions and intervening with a motivation to foster peace and not violence.

In this I join in the appeals of both HH Pope Francis and of his HH the 14th Dalai Lama in their call for the world to seek peace rather than war.

In war, there are no victors but what remains are broken families who lost loved ones. What remains is a taste of resentment that outlives any war.

What remains is suffering. Suffering that we create ourselves.

Violent action rarely achieves its objectives. It might bring about more immediate results, but it doesn't address the real root of the problem but only treats its symptoms.

I recall the saying that history is written by the victors as I conclude reflecting on victory day and on the events taking place in Syria. We may rejoice at the fact that Malta hasn't fallen to our past "enemies". Indeed, some attribute our survival during the Great Siege and World War II to the direct intervention of the Virgin Mary since, as I explained earlier, the 8th September is the feast of her nativity. However, while it may be pointless to speculate whether Malta would have been worse off if we had fallen to our past "enemies". But, I am sure that if history had turned out differently and Malta became Malta Arabia or Malta Fascista, I'm sure that there would be celebrations going on of a different kind. And I wouldn't be who I am today if I would have been ever been born in such a parallel Earth. Yet, I am here today and, thus, I have to carry my own responsibilities and do the little I can to make the world a better one than when I found it.

Granted, we have little or no power to change the world on our own.

Yet, we cannot afford not to care while thousands of people around the world, human beings like us, are suffering unnecessary suffering because they fail to appreciate the fact that they depend on one another and no one can claim to be better than the other.

I hope in peace - even if I know war is looming.

I still believe there’s a place for dialogue - even if the world seems to have drawn its own conclusions.

I believe that the only victory is a victory over the enemy within that seeks to fill us with vain pride that forces us to crush our fellow brothers and sisters.

Remembering the fallen is good, yes, but clinging to what we think we are is but a harmful attachment.

May there be peace in Syria and around the world.

May no more people die in vain.

May today be a better day. For our tomorrow depends on it!

Opening to The Intimacy of the Soul*

I come to write again after taking time to consider where my life is leading to. I admit, I am still confused about the direction I want to follow in life. I regret that the things that appeared to be of absolute importance to my happiness have become perhaps less important to me at this point in my life. This doesn’t mean that my disability activism, for example, is no longer important to me or that I don’t value the principles of inclusion I believed in before. Principles I dedicated lots of time and energy to promote. Rather, I feel that my calling is elsewhere.

I can understand if only a few readers might relate to my situation. It’s as if, more than ever, I feel a sense of emptiness. Of insignificance. It’s not because there’s emptiness within me. It’s because I realise that, as a human being, I am insignificant when compared to the extend of the cosmos. A cosmos that we can only barely understand with our scientific advances. A cosmos, that we may never be able to really understand.

In this state of silent contemplation, I only find myself confused and lost in an ocean that engulfs my whole being. An ocean which I want to escape from and be rescued from.

Yet, an ocean which I must cross to discover the place I need to be if I want to find more lasting peace and happiness. The refuge of the soul*. The cosmos that appears to mock my pretentious humanity is really drawing me to an authentic understanding of my real nothingness. Like the ocean, I am faced by my sense of nakedness and shame of having to declare my vulnerability and essential nothingness.

I was a child who wanted to know more. Indeed, I was thirsty for answers of why I was here. I admit that the death of my brother David a few months after my birth appears to have profoundly affected me. I realise this fact the more I develop my practice of meditation. It’s as if my need to make sense of my life - or why I am here - has become more important to me. More than anything else, I feel that I must face the challenge posed by an infinite ocean and the nakedness that the eternal cosmos reveals. For, in contrast to all this immensity, I am an impermanent nothing.


I once aspired to become a famous writer in my life. Indeed, this, I admit, was one of the motivations I had to write as a child. To perhaps join in the ranks of those many authors I found on the library shelves (I could reach). Yet, I wrote not just out of vanity but because, the more I wrote, the greater I felt free. There were moments when I wrote continuously, others when I stopped writing for days on end. It was both painful and cathartic to write. It was hard to have to put into words what I felt inside as what I wrote may have sounded brilliant but it never captured the complexity of my thoughts. And, even as I write

today, I am sure that what I finish will always be incomplete and dissatisfying. Hopefully, it is closer to the truth of my being but words and language are only mirrors of a far richer reality we may call the “soul”*. I am aware that while we may place a lot of weight on the words we use or the symbols we communicate, these don’t exist in their own right. A sentence, a book, or any form of expression, will mean another thing in another time or socio-cultural context. Yet, even if we may chose silence, it has also its meaning. However, at least, silence provides us with an opportunity to listen and contemplate on the significance of our human existence.

It may help us to free ourselves from the shackles of ignorance and open that little the intimacy within. 



I know that my life may be misinterpreted as a tragedy. Yes, it appears I lost a lot in the course of these 31 years I’ve been here on the planet. I lost my brother, David, before I could know him. I gradually lost my ability to walk independently, I lost a significant amount of vision and I am just slowly regaining my health and strength. Yet, my life isn’t exceptionally tragic to any degree. Defining me in those terms failsto acknowledge my humanity. I have only experienced more in life than usual, yes, but this doesn’t guarantee that my experience automatically brought with it any wisdom or exceptional insight.

 

A belief that is often implied whenever I talk to a few “religious” strangers. Indeed, I, myself, may have ben deluded by that demon of pride. A pride that seeks out to make one feel that one has the understanding and has the right outlook on life. A pride that refuses to listen and thus be unresponsive or hostile to other views. Views, which may be indeed wrong, but which must be taken notice of for hearts and minds to perhaps change and be more open.

These words would have been outrightly dismissed by my past self. But, these words are the ones I needed to hear.



I am a human being. I am disabled by a society that still considers people, like me, who have impairments, lives apart. We are not heroes, saints, villains, pitiful beings, abnormal, differently-abled or even “special”. Yet, I realise that while I recall all I believe in, I know there’s a deeper longing within that compels me to go beyond my work as a disability activist. For, while this cause is worthwhile and to be commended, I feel a strong need to go beyond impairment and focus more on the wider context of being human.

The fact is that since I grew in my understanding of Buddhism, thanks to the works of HH Dalai Lama and other scholars, I realise how important it is, for me, to reach beyond my self to others. Not because the experiences I have gone through life have made me any wiser. Not that I am special in any way. But because I feel that I must seek the source of my emptiness. To find refuge in knowing that all I have is impermanent and all will end, including my being. To approach this realisation, not with despair or despondency, but with mindful compassion and appreciation of every breath we take.

In doing so, we can wake up and release ourselves from the spell of pride.A point of awareness where we can see the afflictions borne out of hate, greed and desire melt into nothingness. A point where, even if we’re not totally free from our delusions, we are ready to open our heart to others and to all that is around us.
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I feel that unless I fully open my mind and heart to this greater need and purpose, there will always be that sadness in my heart. A dissatisfaction that, whatever I did in my future, all will be overshadowed by the knowing that I didn’t pursue my deepest yearning. That I put aside my call to compassion and to contemplate the purpose of my existence because I wanted to live a relatively comfortable life.



In doing that, I would have violated the intimacy of my soul*! 





* In the context of this article, the meaning of the word “soul” is not to be understood in terms of any religious interpretation. In this sense, the soul may be taken to simply mean conscious awareness in the present - in light of the fact that the “soul” or “self” is, in itself, not a static property of the mind and may indeed cannot be said to have a distinct location in the body but rather arises out of the interplay of the brain and the nervous system.

What Can We Do? A Meditation on Action

Life changes. That's a fact we all know but people seldom think about. Every day is unique but in our fast moving world, we have created the illusion that there's such a thing as a "normal" week that includes a period of rest we call the "weekend".

 

The more I grow in my practice of various forms of meditation, the more I realise how easy it is to go through life following habit and routine without stopping and reflect on the point of it all. For, while life may seem to be going great, we night fail to appreciate the moments in which we find our peace and comfort. It's only when we realise we lost something that we start to appreciate its value.

 

We also risk believing that we have more control over our world than we really do. As life goes through its natural cycle of birth, death  and renewal, we change as well. I have gone through particularly hard times in my life recently and I can't say that I found my peace.

 

Indeed, while we may have an idea that mindfulness and meditation provides us with peaceful bliss, its proper practice also exposes us to the scars which were deeply hidden in our mind. Yet, unpleasant as they are, acknowledging their presence can help us to slowly detach ourselves from them.

 

Even if I am trying to give up my attachment to the world, I confess it's harder than I thought. I still remain attached to my pride and sometimes still crave to acquire a particular thing or position. But then again, I know how . foolish my thinking is. Yet, I can still be a fool. Acknowledging that is the first step - even if my pride gets angry.

 

The fact is that there's very little we can change in the world. There are so many factors that are permitting that we have the right conditions to keep alive that it would be impossible to list them and some I don't even know about. We also depend on the living world, including the people we live with on this rotating piece of rock. 

 

So what can we do? While we may not be able to change the world or even "save" it, there's only one thing I learned that you may find of value. You can only change yourself. Yet, until you take the time to get to know who you are, each day will remain as insignificant as the one before. 

 

Don't expect to change overnight and don't even expect it to be painless. You may even find you're failing, like I feel lately, but you should keep in mind that the real peace, freedomm and happiness we all seek is not to be found in the world but in you and in how far you're ready to recognise your littleness in the  context of the whole.

A Meditation on Forgetting

 

 

 

 

A Confession

I must confess that I have forgotten  to write an entry on the occasion of HH Dalai Lama which I started doing when I started this site. I have already written extensively about how indebted I am to HH 14th Dalai Lama for opening my mind to a fresh understanding of life and reality. I find that I feel a bit angry and rather ashamed of having forgotten the man who helped e to embark on the journey where I can better understand who I am and my place in this world.

 

In a way, this journey of self-discovery which I have been writing about since 2011 began as a child. But then, my curiosity to know about HH Dalai Lama and to understand Buddhism didn’t take me far. Even my brief exploration of world religions that I carried out as I was writing my book Cosmos also didn’t help me that much as I only read sources which tended to hold that Buddhism was a nihilistic tradition.
I find that the past remains an important part of who we are. It’s true that it’s not good to dwell on the past but it would be wrong that we completely forget it. For the past, whether we like it or not, has affected and affects who we are today.

 

Yes, I forgot that on the 6th JUly of 1935, a young boy called Tenzin Gyatso would be declared to be the re-incarnation of his predecessor Thubten Gyatso. Much has been written, of course, on the Dalai Lama’s early days but I feel That I have been affected but the way he speaks and expresses his thoughts with a rare sincerity and with a genuine interest in the welfare of all humankind and all sentient beings. Yet, as he admits himself, he is just a man like any other and he doesn’t want people to regard him as a god-figure. In particular, there are three things that have struck me as he talks about Buddhism. Precepts that, you might have noticed, I constantly refer to when writing here and which I use as guides in other writing that is not related to Buddhism as such.

 

My Guiding Principles

These principles, simply put are:

Dependent arising. The teaching that who we are is the product of countless causes and conditions that have made our life possible.

 

co-dependence e. The reality that who we are and what we have depends on other factors that are beyond our control. These range from the physical world - material objects, nature, living things and weather conditions; to the relations we have with other people.

 

Impermanence. The fact that nothing lasts forever. Everything in the universe is changing, including the universe itself. And, all all of this will one time end.

The Impermanence of Forgetting

 

In this sense, we can see forgetting as the manifestation of the impermanence of memory. Yet, we may forget other things in life that are as important as memory is to remember who we are. I feel that, due to strong emotions, that arose from a dark place within. As a result, I started forgetting what was important in my life. I was forgetting the values I believed in. Perhaps I was under the illusion that I was better than others or that I had a rightful claim to be arrogant because I felt that I was in the right and that all I said can't and shouldn't be contradicted because it was absolute - when, in fact, right as it may have been, it was relative. Yes, I may have been in the right at times but my approach was also wrong.

It is often the case that because we feel we have found our truth, we forget that we remain always subjective in our judgments and fail to consider how our words and actions might affect other people.

I am not saying that we do wrong if we make our point or feel that we must take action. Yet, even if we are right and correct, the way we assert our convictions can easily undermine their importance. It’s a choice whether to pursue the path of violence or the path of non-violence. The former may appear to be stronger and the more effective. Yet, while the path of violence may get more immediate results, it only reacts to the effect of the real cause of our affliction and may also obscure the real causes of the affliction.

 

Healing the Past: To Forgive, Not Forget…

I am sorry that I forgot to remember that on July 6, 1935, Tenzin Gyatso was born. But, I feel greater sorrow that while my writing has been largely unaffected by past afflictions, I cano’t say the same about some words and actions that I have carried out in an attempt to reclaim what I felt was unfairly taken away from me.

 

But, in doing so, I became a slave to this past and never really freed myself.

The only way we have to heal the past is to forgive all the injustice perpetrated against us as we can’t change the past. Yet, while we should not forget our past as it has shaped who we are, we should strive to forgiveness ensures that we don’t remain slaves to our past and be willing to be more open to trusting others guided by the wisdom of our past injustices.

 

We should strive to cultivate our compassion as it is the only guarantee of our own happiness and that of others.
In HH the 14th Dalai Lama’s own words:

 

“If you want to be happy… practice compassion…

 

If you want others to be happy… practice compassion…”

 

I wish belated wishes to HH Dalai Lama.

 

Thank you very very much!

 

Older Entries

2011: Celebrating HH the 14th Dalai Lama's 76th Birthday
2012: Tomorrow ... It's the 6th July? So, It's HH 14th Dalai Lama's 77th birthday!!!

ZoneMind: A Day of Shame - Identity, Indifference & Humanity (Full Series)

Part 1: Hollow Identities?

> ORIGINAL SOURCE

This July was a time I felt that I had to re-evaluate who I was and to reflect on my position on this Earth and wonder once again on where I belonged. I decided to leave FaceBookas I was growing concerned that, in spite of all the good things it offered me, I found myself too dependent on it and sometimes felt I had to project an identity that pleased the public which I felt more and more to be somewhat oppressive, encouraging a culture of impulsive reactions which didn’t promote finding time for reflection or cultivate personal growth. I felt that sometimes I had to hold back too much parts of who I was and perhaps the reason I finally left was to be found in my past.

Yes, there was another reason I decided to leave. Perhaps I realised that being on FaceBook was my way of validating who I was because I still felt like an outsider. I still felt without acknowledging it, that I wanted to be accepted and taken for who I was or what I believed in. But, then, I always ran the risk of posting something for the sake of it. I might have felt that the media had once robbed me of my right to claim an identity as an individual when I was still a child. And, yes, while I thought I got over it, the scars in my mind were still there and still bleeding.

Indeed, I found that the painful memories I had when I was still a disabled boy were still there hidden in my mind. I realised that these ‘demons’ of the past which I thought I conquered were still acting in the background. I cannot say that this was a positive experience. It was not. I made that clear in my entry and recording found on a recent post entitled “Is Virtue Its Own Reward”. For, even if it was a difficult time in my childhood, I admit that it also taught me about myself and about how society viewed me.

Many times, we often judge things in terms of good or bad.

However, life is more of an experience that is in-between.

And there are many experiences in my life which may be judged as bad or terrible. The fact is that while our experiences may be a source of pain and anger, sometimes they are inevitable and necessary to learn and grow up. When I could still walk, I remember that there were many times I fell from my bicycle when I was first learning how to ride a bike. But, eventually, I had mastered the skill of riding a bike. Yes, I know that today I won’t be able to write a regular bike at least but I did benefit from learning that skill the time I could do it.

In the same way, the pain I felt as a disabled child when I realised that to the world I was just a one-dimensional boy ‘afflicted’ by impairment and a ‘burden’ and ‘sacrifice’ to society and to my best friend was when I lost my balance on the ‘bicycle’ of life and face the fact that no matter who I was or what I did, I will also risk being judge by my impairments.

From that day on, I felt I could relate to the countless times I found myself ill-at-ease when I listened to so-called grown ups making fun of people who were different than them, whether they were of a different faith, whether they were black, whether they were women or whether they were gay.

Unfortunately, I do confess that at times I did join in to make some witty remark but, I found that I preferred to remain silent when the words I heard felt wrong and unkind. But my silence was not that better. I didn’t know I had a choice. However, the experiences I had when I realised that for society I was to be an outsider with people arrogantly thinking that they can tell my story and distort my life to the extent it sounded more like melodrama.

I just wasn’t that boy they had constructed out of their assumptions and misconceptions.

It was from then on that I must have started realising I was an outsider. Society wasn’t interested in who I really was, it preferred to create n image for the sake of increasing sales and popularity. I was like a Joseph Merrick whose physical differences were the main reason he drew the interest of the people of his time.

 

Part 2: an Indifferent Ignorance

 > ORIGINAL SOURCE  

 

I felt that I could relate to my earlier discomfort when I heard people saying things about individuals they never met or didn’t intend to mix with. As I read about the struggle of black Americans in the US for civil rights, I felt that Martin Luther King Junior was also talking about an experience not dissimilar to my own.

As I read about Gandhi’s protests against the British colonisers, I felt that, in some way, I was colonised by a non-disabled ideology that placed people like me who had an impairment amongst the lowest classes of society, sustaining the belief that impairment was an inevitable reality and that I must accept my burden and not expect to be an equal. Of course, it would be much later in my 20s that I would be introduced to the idea of the social model of disability that appeared to given me a voice and the words to articulate my experiences.

For, like racism, sexism, homophobia or any other forms of intolerance that existed about people who may be different than us, The fact I had an impairment wasn’t the problem in itself. 

Indeed, one major problem was the attitude people had about impairment which was often seen to define my whole identity - even erasing any other aspects of my humanity.

However, unlike other forms of discrimination, society has also proved to reject my body whenever I was denied access to places or to resources simply because my body didn’t conform to the imaginary ‘norm’. Despite this fact, attitude played an important role on my feeling of being an outsider.

Like the black men and women in 50s America, I didn’t have equal rights in so many areas. Like the colonised Indian, what I owned and my history was always inferior to that of the unreal norm. Like the

African, to the West, I had no history and my impairment remained a curse or the effect of nature gone wrong.  Thus, my mind

and body appeared to be a defiance to the Graeco-Roman ideals of perfection. The only means that we all have to relate with the world suddenly seemed to have been imbued with features and characteristics that were never there but were only created by our limiting minds. 

This is why I felt I was an outsider as a boy. This is why I feel like an outsider sometimes even  today. 

I felt the need to speak about the injustices that I witnessed this week in an episode entitled Lives Should Never Be Used As Meanswhich I posted on my podcast channel . The inhumanity in the government’s attempt to deport a group of Somali migrants back to Libya. While Malta has limited resources to provide shelter to more migrants, I felt that this attempt at sending a message to the EU that Malta needed more support was morally deplorable on so many levels. For, given that Libya remains unstable and that the detention centres at Libya offer very poor human conditions while guards there don’t seem to have any respect for human rights,, 

if our government hadn’t been stopped, these immigrants would have certainly suffered torture, rape and death. And I don’t like to call them ‘immigrants’ but language is often constraining. They are, first and foremost, people - men, women and children. They are my brothers and sisters. They all have their own identities, likes and dislikes. They feel the same feelings and emotions that I feel. Like them, I can get sick and I will die. We share the world with each other.

Part 3: Humanity Denied!

> ORIGINAL  SOURCE

Before starting this last entry, I wish to share a few verses inspired from  the words that are attributed toMartin Niemöller as I can see the danger in arguments and action that seem to imply that our human rights can be negotiated or, worse, put to the majority vote. I am painfully aware that, as a disabled person, many (if not all) of the rights I and other disabled people, would have prevailed and it's only because of some pioneers that made sure our rights should be legally recognised that we can say that we have more opportunities today - even if there's more to be done to gain real equality for disabled people. But I digress, so here are the adapted version of  Martin Niemöller's speech foe our local reality as I am currently perceiving it:: 

Now, they were coming for the migrants,

And we said nothing...

Then they came for those who were Muslims...

And we said nothing.

Then they robbed once who identified themselves as LGBT of their rights...

And we said nothing...

Then they attacked the environmentalists...

And as nature was dying...

Our mouths were still shut...

They would also make ones protecting human rights of minorities and other discriminated social groups appear to be unpatriotic...

And we still said nothing.

Then, when they came after us...

Well, no one was  there to defend us!

I don’t want to sound too pessimistic but unless we don't speak together against injustice perpetrated on others, we have lost our claim to our own rights. Unless we come together and really together on issues concerning human rights, then all expressions of solidarity and talks social inclusion remain simply empty rhetoric. When people in my own country forget their humanity, these people seeking refuge become a group of people robbed of an identity. At the same time, we choose to impose our own prejudice and assumptions on them turning them to monsters and even savages. When we look at them, there is a danger that we project our own fears onto them.Perhaps we fear of losing our own identity. Rejecting them would mean that we cling to the delusion that we’re far better than them or more ‘civilised’ than them. We might have believed that they were poor people suffering from famine and starvation. We might still have an image of those children with swollen stomachs. We might have pitied them. We might have thought of Africans as savages without a history or tradition. Like the Africans of that distorted Africa found in, for example, Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.

In many ways, I feel that I must speak up against any attempt to reduce the rights of these people we call immigrants. I feel that I am also an outsider. In spite of any nice things said about disabled people, there are still many who harbour deep inside a certain resentment and fear of becoming like us - which is likely to happen as they age. I am, like the immigrant, an outsider - the other. And being the ‘other’ makes me a threat to the social order. For, in fully accepting me and people who are different, society would have to face the reality that we are more like each other than we are different. And while our differences matter, they are not fundamental to who we are. The day when we even considered sending people back to most certain torture, humiliation and death can’t be ever justified.

It was a day of shame for us and for Malta when we were close to to remain indifferent to our fellow human beings for the sake of making a political point.

While we may come to be forgiven for these actions, I believe we must make sure that we don’t forget. Even if the public has a short memory and the media is always looking for the next controversy, we can’t afford to forget. For forgetting would mean that next time we may actually have blood on our hands.

To end this long entry, I wish to express my last thoughts in the Japanese haiku form:

Yes, we must forgive...

But I refuse to forget...

This moment of shame.

End of series!

ABOUT THIS ENTRY

 This series originally appeared as a three-part series of entries published on my blogZoneMind between July 12 and July 14., 2013. This version has been slightly edited. If you enjoyed this entry, you can follow some of my activity on Twitter@gordonGT. 

> Feel free to share this post but kindly attribute this source;.

A Day of Shame: Identity, Indifference and Humanity - Part 3

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

 

Part 3: Humanity Denied!

Before starting this last entry, I wish to share a few verses inspired from the words that are attributed to Martin Niemöller as I can see the danger in arguments and action that seem to imply that our human rights can be negotiated or, worse, put to the majority vote. I am painfully aware that, as a disabled person, many (if not all) of the rights I and other disabled people, would have prevailed and it's only because of some pioneers that made sure our rights should be legally recognised that we can say that we have more opportunities today - even if there's more to be done to gain real equality for disabled people. But I digress, so here are the adapted version of Martin Niemöller's speech foe our local reality as I am currently perceiving it::

 

Now, they were coming for the migrants,

And we said nothing...


Then they came for those who were Muslims...

And we said nothing.

Then they robbed once who identified themselves as LGBT of their rights...

And we said nothing...

Then they attacked the environmentalists...

And as nature was dying...

Our mouths were still shut...

They would also make ones protecting human rights of minorities and other discriminated groups appear to be unpatriotic...

And we still said nothing.

Then, when they came after us...

No one was  there to defend us!

I don’t want to sound too pessimistic but unless we don't speak together against injustice perpetrated on others, we have lost our claim to our own rights. Unless we come together and really together on issues concerning human rights, then all expressions of solidarity and talks social inclusion remain simply empty rhetoric.

When people in my own country forget their humanity, these people seeking refuge become a group of people robbed of an identity. At the same time, we choose to impose our own prejudice and assumptions on them turning them to monsters and even savages. When we look at them, there is a danger that we project our own fears onto them.

Perhaps we fear of losing our own identity. Rejecting them would mean that we cling to the delusion that we’re far better than them or more ‘civilised’ than them. We might have believed that they were poor people suffering from famine and starvation. We might still have an image of those children with swollen stomachs. We might have pitied them. We might have thought of Africans as savages without a history or tradition. Like the Africans of that distorted Africa found in Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.

In many ways, I feel that I must speak up against any attempt to reduce the rights of these people we call immigrants. I feel that I am also an outsider. In spite of any nice things said about disabled people, there are still many who harbour deep inside a certain resentment and fear of becoming like us - which is likely to happen as they age. I am, like the immigrant, an outsider - the other. And being the ‘other’ makes me a threat to the social order. For, in fully accepting me and people who are different, society would have to face the reality that we are more like each other than we are different. And while our differences matter, they are not fundamental to who we are. The day when we even considered sending people back to most certain torture, humiliation and death can’t be ever justified.

It was a day of shame for us and for Malta when we were close to to remain indifferent to our fellow human beings for the sake of making a political point.

While we may come to be forgiven for these actions, I believe we must make sure that we don’t forget. Even if the public has a short memory and the media is always looking for the next controversy, we can’t afford to forget. For forgetting would mean that next time we may actually have blood on our hands.

My last thoughts in haiku:

Yes, we must forgive...

But I refuse to forget...

This moment of shame.

End of series!

READ THE WHOLE SERIES:
PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

A Day of Shame: Identity, Indifference and Humanity - Part 2

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 1 - PART 2 - PART 

Part 2: an Indifferent Ignorance 

I felt that I could relate to my earlier discomfort when I heard people saying things about individuals they never met or didn’t intend to mix with. As I read about the struggle of black Americans in the US for civil rights, I felt that Martin Luther King Junior was also talking about an experience not dissimilar to my own.

 

As I read about Gandhi’s protests against the British colonisers, I felt that, in some way, I was colonised by a non-disabled ideology that placed people like me who had an impairment amongst the lowest classes of society, sustaining the belief that impairment was an inevitable reality and that I must accept my burden and not expect to be an equal. Of course, it would be much later in my 20s that I would be introduced to the idea of the social model of disability that appeared to given me a voice and the words to articulate my experiences.

For, like racism, sexism, homophobia or any other forms of intolerance that existed about people who may be different than us, The fact I had an impairment wasn’t the problem in itself. Indeed, one major problem was the attitude people had about impairment which was often seen to define my whole identity - even erasing any other aspects of my humanity. However, unlike other forms of discrimination, society has also proved to reject my body whenever I was denied access to places or to resources simply because my body didn’t conform to the imaginary ‘norm’. Despite this fact, attitude played an important role on my feeling of being an outsider. Like the black men and women in 50s America, I didn’t have equal rights in so many areas. Like the colonised Indian, what I owned and my history was always inferior to that of the unreal norm. I was and still feel an outsider.

This is why I felt the need to speak about the injustices that I witnessed this week in an episode entitled Lives Should Never Be Used As Means which I posted on my podcast channel . The inhumanity in the government’s attempt to deport a group of Somali migrants back to Libya. While Malta has limited resources to provide shelter to more migrants, I felt that this attempt at sending a message to the EU that Malta needed more support was morally deplorable on so many levels. For, given that Libya remains unstable and that the detention centres at Libya offer very poor human conditions while guards there don’t seem to have any respect for human rights,, if our government hadn’t been stopped, these immigrants would have certainly suffered torture, rape and death. And I don’t like to call them ‘immigrants’ but language is often constraining. They are, first and foremost, people - men, women and children. They are my brothers and sisters. They all have their own identities, likes and dislikes. They feel the same feelings and emotions that I feel. Like them, I can get sick and I will die. We share the world with each other.

CONTINUED…

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

A Day of Shame: Identity, Indifference and Humanity - Part 1

Part 1: Hollow Identities?

This July was a time I felt that I had to re-evaluate who I was and to reflect on my position on this Earth and wonder once again on where I belonged. I decided to leave FaceBook as I was growing concerned that, in spite of all the good things it offered me, I found myself too dependent on it and sometimes felt I had to project an identity that pleased the public which I felt more and more to be somewhat oppressive, encouraging a culture of impulsive reactions which didn’t promote finding time for reflection or cultivate personal growth. I felt that sometimes I had to hold back too much parts of who I was and perhaps the reason I finally left was to be found in my past.

Yes, there was another reason I decided to leave. Perhaps I realised that being on FaceBook was my way of validating who I was because I still felt like an outsider. I still felt without acknowledging it, that I wanted to be accepted and taken for who I was or what I believed in. But, then, I always ran the risk of posting something for the sake of it. I might have felt that the media had once robbed me of my right to claim an identity as an individual when I was still a child. And, yes, while I thought I got over it, the scars in my mind were still there and still bleeding.

Indeed, I found that the painful memories I had when I was still a disabled boy were still there hidden in my mind. I realised that these ‘demons’ of the past which I thought I conquered were still acting in the background. I cannot say that this was a positive experience. It was not. I made that clear in my entry and recording found on a recent post entitled “Is Virtue Its Own Reward”. For, even if it was a difficult time in my childhood, I admit that it also taught me about myself and about how society viewed me.

Many times, we often judge things in terms of good or bad.

However, life is more of an experience that is in-between. And there are many experiences in my life which may be judged as bad or terrible. The fact is that while our experiences may be a source of pain and anger, sometimes they are inevitable and necessary to learn and grow up. When I could still walk, I remember that there were many times I fell from my bicycle when I was first learning how to ride a bike. But, eventually, I had mastered the skill of riding a bike. Yes, I know that today I won’t be able to write a regular bike at least but I did benefit from learning that skill the time I could do it.

In the same way, the pain I felt as a disabled child when I realised that to the world I was just a one-dimensional boy ‘afflicted’ by impairment and a ‘burden’ and ‘sacrifice’ to society and to my best friend was when I lost my balance on the ‘bicycle’ of life and face the fact that no matter who I was or what I did, I will also risk being judge by my impairments.

From that day on, I felt I could relate to the countless times I found myself ill-at-ease when I listened to so-called grown ups making fun of people who were different than them, whether they were of a different faith, whether they were black, whether they were women or whether they were gay.

Unfortunately, I do confess that at times I did join in to make some witty remark but, at times, I remained silent. But my silence was not that better. I didn’t know I had a choice. However, the experiences I had when I realised that for society I was to be an outsider with people arrogantly thinking that they can tell my story and distort my life to the extent it sounded more like melodrama.

I just wasn’t that boy they had constructed out of their assumptions and misconceptions.

It was from then on that I must have started realising I was an outsider. Society wasn’t interested in who I really was, it preferred to create an image for the sake of increasing sales and popularity. I was like a Joseph Merrick whose physical differences were the only reason he drew the interest of the people of his time.

CONTINUED…

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

Is there life after FaceBook?

L)) Listen to a recent episode with the same name I published oN my podcast channel at AudioBoo

FaceBook Memories

Last week, I took what seemed, at first, to be a difficult decision. I de-activated my FaceBook account. Even if I can re-activate my account within a time window, it’s unlikely for me to return. I admit that I was pretty excited when I started using FaceBook for the first time. It felt good to see more ‘friends’ and acquaintances joining me as a ‘friend’. Indeed, over the years, I did gain a modest number of followers, including new and old friends, schoolmates, relatives and had the chance to connect with like minded people.

Disenchantment

On the other hand, I have grown weary about what FaceBook has become. While I find that the idea of social networks and FaceBook in particular, to be a positive one, I regret that, on its part, FaceBook has sold its soul (if social networks can have one) to businesses and companies. Unfortunately, as a FaceBook user, I noticed that many of those using what is now a social network giant don’t yet understand the implications of posting stuff on the platform.

In fact, people have been posting updates about the most trivial things happing in their lives, posting photos that may be inappropriate or sharing ‘feel good’ updates or ‘feel bad’ updates to gain attention. We also sometimes tend to post status updates to provoke controversy. All in all, we seek to create an identity and seek to be popular - even if it means portraying ourselves as tragic victims. Worse still, we fill our profiles with details about who we are or what we do to the whole world to find. Things that we might not be comfortable sharing with a person we met in the street, we are ready to tell the world.

A Privacy Lost

Many people have rightly expressed their concerns following Edward Snowden's revelations that the US government Is monitoring the activities of its citizens, and most likely, other citizens from other countries to protect “national security”. But, forgetting this issue for today, these concerns arise because we value our privacy. After all, we want to keep aspects of our lives to ourselves. However, our insistence on the ‘sacred’ right to privacy seems to be inconsistent with how we behave on FaceBookFaceBook activity is also precious information for businesses to use and exploit for their own business interests. A thing that we make easier for those seeking to make more profit whenever we press LIKE on a particular product and service. While this can help the company improve their service, it is also somewhat an invasion of our privacy, It night even mean that we are valuing products as people. For, in truth, the FaceBook started off as a network of friends, it has been colonised by an aggressive commercialisation where objects become our friends and friends, in a way, become objects.

Sadly, I realise that FaceBook is neither the utopian social network which connects people from around the world to encourage dialogue and mutual understanding. Yes, there are some groups and individuals who are engaging in a dialogue to promote peace and justice around the world. Yet, as with anything we create as human beings, FaceBook has been the meeting place for those who spread hate or intolerance to others, including far right groups and those groups which implicitly support homophobia, people of different race, faith or disability. This tendency for us to form our own affiliations even if they condone hate crime or violence, is a reality. And if a group is private, FaceBook can be a place where we limit ourselves to reading from people who have our opinions without even giving the chance for us to hear a different opinion than our own.

Again, I am not condemning FaceBook or those who use it. For all I know, I might return. However, I believe that I have become too dependent on FaceBook to the extent that I wasn’t sure whether I could live without it. A feeling I am sure some readers can relate to. I haven’t become addicted to FaceBook. But, then again, I had a life before FaceBook. We all had. In a way, FaceBook. I thank all of you who joined me on FaceBook is not going to be there forever. And it could continue to change too much.

I left FaceBook tO regain my authenticity and grow in self-knowledge without having to adopt an identity that is NOT who I am!


PS: I will still be on Twitter though - so you can still connect with me @GordonGT!

Is Virtue Its Own Reward? Reflections on the Real Price and Value of Kindness...

 

L)) In My Own Words: Listen to Part 1 and Part 2 of a podcast episode I recorded where I talk about my experiences and how it changed the way I viewed society and the world around me for the rest of my life. 

"I want to be part of society. However, society must recognise my difference. Unfortunately, in spite of any rhetoric promoting inclusion, those who hold themselves to be the ‘norm’ persist in creating barriers that prevent us from being truly included. Our society , still silently, believes that the non-disabled, Maltese, Caucasian and straight man is the ideal […] this prize has reminded me that I am, and it seems, I will remain the ‘other’. For, even now, what I write may be interpreted to be the angry voice of that young boy who thought he was just like any other boy to discover that he must remain always an outsider."  

 

This week I have been doing some soul searching. I didn’t expect that I would react to this news as I did this time. Perhaps it’s because I’m more in touch with my thoughts and feelings. Indeed, the painful memories of a past long forgotten seemed to have come to haunt me again. I am sorry for being unclear but my thoughts and emotions are unsettled.

Let me take you back to a time when I was a boy of around 10. I was watching the local news in the evening when I heard the name of one of my best friends being mentioned. I admit that I was jealous at first. I was curious to know what had happened. I listen attentively… He was being awarded a prize for kindness… I listened more attentively now. A prize, for what? 

And then , I understand he was being rewarded for ‘helping’ his ‘poor handicapped friend’. Who? Then, it dawned on me as if I was struck by lightning. I was that boy he was ‘helping’. I was the boy described in terms of a ‘needy’ and even ‘helpless’. I felt that it seemed they were talking about another ‘crippled’ boy - not me! I felt betrayed.

At first, I was angry at my supposed ‘friend’. I was angry because I started to suspect that our friendship had been a charade. A ploy to be awarded such a prize or to look nice and popular with others. But, if I think about it, as a child himself, he really had no say in the matter. Undeniably, I did feel betrayed by my friend and while we sort of patched things up, from then on our friendship was never the same.

Why am I telling you this? The truth that this prize for kindness - also known in Maltese as “Premju tat-Tjubija” or “Premju Qalb tad-Deheb)”“ (Golden Heart Award) or “Premju Gwanni XXIII” (Pope John 23rd Award) is an initiative started off by a local NGO called the "Peace Lab”. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the values expressed by this organisation, including the promotion of peace and dialogue between people. However, I believe that the ones who cane up with the idea of awarding a so-called “Prize for Kindness” may not be aware of what impact could have on the children who are being awarded this prize and the child who is ‘being helped’.

I don’t know what my best friend went through then and what he thinks of this experience today. What I can say that it left me with a sense of betrayal and forced me to mistrust others who sought my friendship for a long time. You know it is said that “the road to hell is paved with good intentions’. And I’m sure that my teachers and school had all the good intentions by nominating my friend. But while my friend achieved a certain prestige and recognition, I felt suddenly I was invalidated as a person. And the way the media portrayed me, again, was less than flattering. I was the taker and a burden. I knew that my friend didn’t see our friendship as a one-way thing. Yet, I was forced to question everything. Was I a ‘sacrifice’? 

Yes, it took years before I can say that I regained some trust. However, in spite of the terrible things they said about me. Defining me only in terms of my physical impairment. As if that was my problem. My curse. I have adapted to it didn’t I? Why do you need to deny that my body is part of who I am? Instead, you rob me of any claims to my individual identity. And so, deny my humanity. I know that these are hard words to write. But I can’t shout them out loud because I would gain nothing. For, even if we hate to admit it, such prizes only reinforce our social inequalities not just as disabled people but as human beings. We have to reward a friendship because we still perceive a disabled child to be always ‘less fortunate’. He or she is always taking. As if our friendship wasn’t based on mutual respect and understanding. As if we didn’t share our childhood together.

I want to be part of society. However, society must recognise my difference. Unfortunately, in spite of any rhetoric promoting inclusion, those who hold themselves to be the ‘norm’ persist in creating barriers that prevent us from being included. Our society , still silently, believes that the non-disabled, Maltese, Caucasian and straight man is the ideal. I am sorry to have to say all this but I can’t help feeling that this prize has reminded me that I am, and it seems, I will remain the ‘other’. For, even now, what I write may be interpreted to be the angry voice of that young boy who thought he was just like any other boy to discover that he must remain always an outsider. 

Today, I understand that we are all co-dependent. We all need each other in today’s world. By pretending to be doing charity by simply sending money where, granted, it is needed will not solve the problems of poverty, lack of access, food shortage and the many problems that we all must share responsibility for. Awarding a prize for kindness will always mean that one is, in some way, inferior to another. And, worse, the fact that you’re telling children that a friendship between a disabled and a non-disabled friend is an act of kindness is telling them that such a friendship is a sacrifice where one party is always the less important - the less of value. Have we become so desperate for kindness that we need to reward even ordinary friendships by painting them using our own narratives of heroes and courage? 

Now, my last thoughts. I know that I have used strong language here. But, honestly, I don’t want other children to go through my experience. Yes, I have learned from it as well. Yet, I believe it is diametrically opposed to the principles of inclusion I believe in. A prize for ‘kindness’ is also a misunderstanding of charity. Charity requires us to practice compassion where we help others not out of pity and because we think we are better than them. Compassion and charity are about being with another human being and looking at him or her as your equal. It’s not and should never be a power relationship.

 And what about the idea of rewarding kindness?

“Virtue is its own reward”!

At least, it should be!

 

Related Entries:

Painful Memories of a Prize for Kindness 

> from: Gordon's D-Zone

The True Meaning of Charity

> from: ZoneMind 

 

On Father...

Today, in this part of the world, we celebrate Father’s Day. I wanted to share some reflections on this day. I admit that I believe it’s rather artificial to pretend that this particular day is set apart for fathers. The same can be said of other days similar to this, such as mother’s day or children’s day. The fact that while this day offers me an opportunity to think about how my father has supported me during my life, the fact is that my father was always there. And, thankfully, in spite of being in his early 80s, he is healthier than I am and far stronger than I can ever be.

I can say that my father remains an important person in my life. I have fond memories when I was younger and used to take walks out with my father and discussed a wide range of subjects, my hopes and fears and so on. He also encouraged me to think for myself and not to let others decide on my behalf. He also encouraged me to pursue my constant and, yes, tiring questioning… Why? How? When? Etc. Now, that I think of it, he was a great influence in my life and, most importantly, he gave me the freedom to ask question and think on my own.

Of course, there were many occasions when I rebelled and felt I ‘hated him’ for denying me what I wanted. I really don’t know what came on me when I hit puberty. But, today, I am happy that my dad is still alive and part of my life. We don’t always share the same opinions on certain topics but we share a lot, I believe, in our value system. I cannot speak of experiences where fathers have been absent or, worse, violent towards their partners and children - I can only speak of my own experience. And, yet, I have had other father figures in my life who have helped me in developing my thoughts and identity. To all those who have been a surrogate father, for lack of a better word - I thank you too.

I hope that my father will remain with me in this life for some more years to come. I will surely miss him if he is gone. Yet, I hope to remember him in my heart and in the memories I have of the time we have and are spending together.

You helped make me the man I am today!

Burying the Self

I am.

Can I proceed and add more to that sentence without risking becoming someone that is really not who I am. Apart from that, aren’t the words “I am” already presenting a lot as these two words attempt to capture an idea that can only be poorly represented using language.

I have been engaging in deep meditation for some time. However, I have realised that, even when we think we can better relate to the world, the truth is that we must come to a point when we become aware of the empty nature of things. The statement “I am” attempts to describe what cannot adequately expressed using the conventional means of communication. There’s no single aspect of who we are that can define who we are.

While the person we call ‘self’ is real in a sense, in many ways this ‘self’ is just a product of the interactions that are happening in our minds and bodies.

Sadly, we are often too attached to the way we have come to see our selves than to reflect on who we actually are. We are separate and unique selves but, at the same time, who we are is intrinsically linked to the world around us. We are part of nature but we remain distinct, in some way, from nature. We can be with others as one but still retain our own identities.

Naturally, we tend to associate ourselves with a group of friends, be part of a community where we can share our beliefs. Find that we like a particular form of music or read books that seem to talk to us. Inasmuch as all this and more can help us in getting to know the world and who we are, they can never define who we are. Not even religion or science or even art can define who we are. It may define our ‘self’ in the world but they don’t tell us anything about who we are.

The unfortunate thing is that we tend to define who we are in these terms. We talk about who we are referring to our work, our religion, our position in the family and so on. But, if everything else was taken away from us. Or, else, we come to the point when we have to face our own death, how would we define who we are then? If we think of the story we built to define who we are, would we have a rope to keep us from drowning into desperation?

Of course, the self remains an important aspect of who we are as it helps us function in the world. Yet, there is more to us than this self. For, positive as it might be, this self is constantly changing. It is changing right now as I type this entry. Your self is changing as you read this entry. It is in this space where we pause from the writing of our life story that we can find who we are. In it’s in that split second when we have to decide what to do and what to think that we may hope to find ourselves.

It is difficult in today’s world to retreat to a place where we can be really silent and aware of what we are thinking. As I grow in my practice of meditation, I realise just how much ‘noise’ is going on in my mind during the day. But, now, I have come to realise that who I am goes beyond what I thought I was.

However, it remains hard to completely detach myself from the story I Have constructed to define who I am. Yet, while that doesn’t mean I want to annihilate the self that helps me function in society, it does mean that I am more aware of the fact that my life will change and my life will end. I cannot hope that someday I will be happy or, worse still, seek to bring back an ideal past.

Here, I must be ready to bury my old self and live again.

An Elusive Silence

I find it difficult to find moments of complete silence in today's wold. I remember that as a child, I could find a place at home or when I'm outside when there's almost complete silence, interrupted by the pleasant song of birds and possibly the sounds of crickets in the summer months.

I don't want to sound too nostalgic here. But, the fact that as I grow in my Buddhist practice of meditation, the more I've come to appreciate the value of stillness and silence. Unfortunately, if the silence I am seeking depended on the environment or the people around me, then returning to a past where there were times when the world seems to rest and simply become silent for just a few hours.

Today,, we are literally bombarded by a cacophony of noises, music that is sometimes too loud to bear, the sounds emanating from our mobile phones and email programmes informing us that we received a request of some kind, or a reply and so on. Requests that distract our attention from the world around us. Tools that are meant to enhance our communication but which, at times, isolate us from those who are around us.

I wonder if my own need to keep in touch with the virtual world is but an escape from facing the immediate world. Or, if this as sometimes an attempt to escape from a silence that might draw my attention to parts of who I am that I rather not explore. Parts of me that I would rather be unaware of. Painful or disturbing memories of a past that I wanted to forget. But, then what does this say about me?

If we are seeking more a life where we need to be connected with the world from the moment we wake up to the moment we are getting to sleep, what does this say about us?

The reality is that, unless we can travel to a remote part of the world where technology hasn't caught up, the reality of those who are living today in most parts of the minority world and small parts of the majority world, remains one where silence is a rarity or an impossibility. However, amidst this noisy world we have created, I still find time when I can find a silence.

It's not a silence where's there's no sound such as that found in the vacuum of space. It's the silence I find as I become aware of my breathing. As I stop moving and just rest my body and let my thoughts pass by. It's a silence where I know that I have a time when I only need to listen to the world around me and not necessarily react or respond. It's simply stopping and noticing the sounds around me, the vision I still have and be aware of the sensations of my body.

This is the silence that I may aspire to. For, even if we use our mind and body on a daily basis, we often take all this for granted. That is, of course, until we become ill or are in pain.

It is recognising the uniqueness of our present experience that we can actually enjoy life and discover that silence that provides us with the space to be who we truly are!

Meditations on Mother's Day

First, let me share a haiku I composed to mark this year's Mother's Day:

To All Mothers*

1
Mothers of all time,
Now, you made us who we are.
You've given us life.

2
Mothers without child.
You've given birth to new hope.
You've given us life.

3
Mothers, you're human.
You may fall and rise, but then,
You've given us life.

4
If it hadn't been you,
We would not be here. No one.
For that, we love you...

5
Divided we are.
We forget that we all had…
We all had mothers!

And, now, some  meditations...

On May 12, we celebrate Mother's day in our country. However,as I realised as I grew older, other countries may celebrate Mother's day on a different day. In spite of this, every nation and culture appears to hold a special place for mothers.

The fact is that, whatever our differences, we all have or had a mother in our life. If it weren't so, we wouldn't be here. Unfortunately, we often take our mothers for granted and fail to appreciate the precious gift our mother has given us. The unique opportunity to live. On the other hand, it's dangerous to idealise mothers and motherhood for the simple reason that mothers remain human.

I am thankful that my mother is still alive. But, I cannot forget those sons and daughters who have been rejected by their mothers or given away without understanding why. Children whose mothers died during childbirth. Children who lost their mothers during their infancy or childhood. And those mothers who, due to personal issues, had to give up their child for adoption. The

mothers who became mothers because they didn't receive the proper education. Mothers who have become mothers out of violent relationships or through rape, where the child becomes a constant reminder of the rapist and violator of her body. Then there are mothers who reject their unborn child for their own reasons. There are many mothers who don't have children but care for other people and children as if they were a mother. In a way, aren't these mothers to?

There's no one relationship that exists between mother and child. We might prefer the idea of a good mother as one who nurtures her children and construct a 'perfection of motherhood'. However, in the real world, such motherly perfection doesn't exist and is impossible to achieve. Yet, what all mothers have in common is that they are the only ones who can have children. They are the life givers and, in their hands, they hold the future of all of humanity.

True, as men, we have a part to play in bringing other human beings, but women are the only ones capable to bring forth new life into the world. Indeed, we call our Earth, mother Earth and not Father Earth.. Indeed, many species of the Earth are born of women, who become mothers. In a way, the fact that women are the only ones who have the potential to become mothers,, makes you wonder why, where there's mention of God, God always referred to inn terms of 'he' not 'she'.

This may be due much more to the way civilisation has evolved from one worships the Goddess to one that venerates God but I won't go into that today. However, the reality remains that every single aspect of human civilisation would have been impossible if there weren't mothers. Indeed, without mothers, there would have been no humanity to begin with.

Of course, various religions and cultures have their particular takes on motherhood. However, all great leaders, scientists, artists, musicians, writers and religious figures and, indeed, all of us, had or have a mother. Indeed, in spite of any differences we might have as human beings, we all share a common experience of being born because we had a mother.

Even if we are invited to think of our mothers if we're lucky to have had one we can remember, it is important that we appreciate the gift that is life we have been given.

And even if our mothers have somewhat failed us or even harmed us in the past, they gave us this life which no one else could give us and which no one can give us in our life.

* For more haikus like this, kindly visit my haiku blog at: Haiku Flow. Hope you enjoy!