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 

 

Renewing the Political Contract

Preamble<

 

I hesitate to write about political issues for a number of reasons. One is, of course, that anything I say risks being interpreted in one way or another and I don’t want to be given a political label. Second, the fact that, as a visually impaired person, I am forced to vote in front of what is called an “electoral commission” means that, in a way, my vote is an open secret. Don’t get me wrong - I do trust the representatives of the electoral commission to a point. Besides, members of the commission are bound by law to keep my vote a secret.who are bound by law to keep my vote a secret but everyone knows human nature and how easy it is for people to break that trust for ulterior motives. 

 

I am hopeful, however, that with Malta’s ratification of the United Nations  Convention Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), this situation will be rectified since Article 29 of the same convention sets out to guarantee the right to participate in public and political life (including the right to a secret vote). Indeed, as the implementation of the UNCRPDin Malta goes underway, our country should redress this situation of inequality in voting as the issue of secret voting is one of the areas identified as needing change (according to this press release

 

However, this isn’t just something we, disabled people, will benefit from. True, all of us who are blind or have a visual impairment, those of us who due to a physical impairment can’t use our hands or have a print disability are bound to benefit. But this right will also provide people who cannot read or write, for example, with the chance to vote in secret. Regrettably, I am also aware that certain disabled people, including people with an intellectual impairment or those with mental health conditions are often denied the right to vote altogether.  

 

I admit that I feel anxious when it gets to the voting season. The fact is, as things stand, I know that I must reveal my political affiliations once again to another group of perfect strangers. Trustworthy, perhaps, but still strangers. While I don’t find any problem with sharing my political views with those I trust the most, I’m not comfortable with revealing my positions to others (whoever they may be). The fact   that most citizens can vote in secret means that, come election time, I am unequal when it comes to the secret vote. Moreover, I do fear the consequences  of revealing my political views to members of the electoral commission as they are also    political representatives who may put party or personal interests over my individual freedoms. I am concerned that certain people might not respect my political opinions and might hold my political beliefs against me resulting in unhappy repercussions.

 

Having said that, any political beliefs I might have doesn’t mean I think  of  disability in terms of party politics. Indeed, I firmly believe that disability is an issue that shouldn’t be politicised in the sense that disability  should never become victim to partisan political exigencies. In addition, it would be irresponsible for me to bring party politics into this issue - especially since I became  involved in public life. 

 

However, I also feel that, even if I won’t take a position in favour of some party or another, I am still entitled to comment on what, I believe, is wrong with politics in general and in the local context in particular and what changes I would like to see in contemporary politics. I want to make it clear from the onset that I don’t claim to have any level of political expertise but the ideas I present below are based on my relatively short experience and reflections on the issues of politics and democracy.     

 

Respecting the Principles of Democracy

 

Indeed, two principles that I feel are essential to ensure a true democracy are equality before the law and freedom of expression. However, the latter principle is inseparable from the right of every citizen to equality and freedom of expression. Thus, it’s debatable whether a far right party which campaigns to deny those it judges to be ‘a threat to national identity’ from their rights and dignity have a place in a true democracy if their campaign incites intolerant or hateful conduct. In addition, the secret vote can be seen as a way to allow citizens to express their personal opinions without fear of discrimination or intimidation. 

 

Now, I will try to move from an overview of the principles, I believe, are important foundations of democracy to how, in practical terms, politicians should apply them in their political careers. As I already said, these are only my suggestions on what I observed.

 

The Need for Constructive Dialogue

 

It’s important that politicians:

• •In a debate, listen to each other.
• •Listen to each other.
• •Allow each party to develop an argument in reasonable time.
• •Listen to the people out there.

 

It is regrettable that debates sometimes end up like shouting contests or meeting the public becomes more of an event where politicians seem to be fishing for voters...

 

The Need forCooperation

 

I regret that sometimes it appears as if politicians live in different countries, if not planets. While it may be understandable for each politician to have partisan interests, their duty remains to serve the whole population and not just party followers. 

 

Indeed, politicians of different political views should do their best to serve the people as they have been elected by us, the voters. Any successes and failures a country faces will affect all of us, including them. We remain, as a people, interdependent and, thus,  should be united as a people. It’s unhealthy for certain politicians or staunch party followers to take pleasure when an opposing party fails in some way. If the country fails, it’s just a lose-lose situation. No one will benefit.

 

The Need forReconciliation

 

I can’t emphasise enough of the importance of fostering a politics that fosters reconciliation. We might not agree on ideological grounds and we should value our principles. However, there’s space where we can reach a compromise and put a genuine effort to find a middle ground that will be of benefit to the whole rather than to just a few. This isn’t implying that we should forget the past as if nothing happened for the past can offer invaluable knowledge and insight and help both avoid repeating past mistakes and making sure that future plans are directed by experience.

 

The Need for More  Political Pluralism

 

Our political system has been largely influenced by the British system following years of colonisation. Consequently, we have largely retained a two-party system. While this system has worked well, it does have some downside to it. The fact is that a two-party system tends to polarise parties rather than encourage more healthy debate and exchange of ideas. Political pluralism shouldn’t just remain confined to media (as it is at present) but should also be reflected in parliament or in the parliamentary or similar institutions where national decisions are taken.

 

More voices representing fresh voices can help to encourage a healthier debate and, in way, help ensure that majority parties are kept in check. However, whether a country’s citizens will be ready to elect people representing a third voice is in their own hands. More voices, of course, may create problems in the running of a country but there can be much value in having greater diversity within the decision making process. . 

 

My Final Appeals...

 

To conclude this entry, I feel the need to make two appeals that, first, gather the main points I tried to make in this entry, and second, emphasise the importance of every citizen’s to participate in the renewal of the political contract based on the principles of democracy. Thus:    

 

First, I appeal to local politicians and all those who are involved in politics to respect the principles of democracy. Not to put party or personal interests before the people. To remember that we, the people, have elected you and we expect you to serve us responsibly and with integrity. We also expect you to practice your profession skilfully, including ensuring you engage in constructive dialogue that is based on cooperation. A dialogue, I believe, which should foster reconciliation on matters that affect us all as a people and a dialogue that opens up to more voices. 

 

Second, I appeal to all readers of voting age not to take the vote for granted.  Failing to vote because you’re disillusioned with politics means you’re forfeiting your  right to have a voice and evading your duty. A failure to vote is not a protest vote but simply giving a go ahead for others to decide your future on your behalf. 

 

As someone who is still denied the right to a secret vote, I also wish to express hope that, if not in the next general election (due in a matter of months), I will have the opportunity to vote in secret for a change. Then, I would be truly included as an equal in the democratic process! 

 

Post-Script

 

I hope my ideas have given you some food for thought. Even if it’s important to make it clear once again that I’m no political expert, I have considered these principles and practical suggestions based on an understanding I have gained through my Buddhist practice. In fact, I find that the principle of co-dependence or how we remain essentially dependent on each other in life has inspired large part of my approach.

 

More content by this blogger can be found at gordonGD.com

The Akwarell Speech: A Message on Independence, Hope and Thanksgiving

Opening Statements

Welcome your excellencies, members of parliament, distinguished guests, family and friends and all those of you who came to celebrate this occasion.

An occasion so important in my life and in the life of my other friends who will be joining me in this new experience...

Today, we are here to celebrate the official opening of our new home, Akwarell*.

To mark this occasion, I wish to share some of my thoughts about what this means to me.

About Community...

At present, Akwarell is just a building. But, I hope, together with my friends, we will turn this building into a home, in the best senses of the word. I think that the name we have chosen for this house: 'Akwarell', expresses how we want this home to be a place to express who we are both as individuals and as a community.

Indeed, in the same way an artist would paint the akwarel, we hope this building will serve us to express our best colours but, at the same time, create something that we could only create with one another. A community of friends.

About independence

However, what Akwarell means goes even beyond that. Akwarell is a place where we can be more independent. Here, it's important to explain what I mean by independence.

Independence does NOT mean we will do everything on our own. Independence does NOT mean we don't need anybody any longer. Independence means being able to make our own choices. Independence means having the necessary help and support to fulfil our full potential. And, in truth, no one in society can live on his/her own. We all need each other in life.

Concluding Remarks

There are many people whom we must thank for making all this possible, each in our different way.

For my part I must thank my parents and all my family, my friends and my work-mates at KNPD. If it hadn't been for all of you, I would not be here today.

However, today was only possible because of the work carried out by pioneers such as Mons Azzopardi who wanted to give us, disabled people, back our life and dignity. Mons Azzopardi who also helped change the Church's approach to disability from a question of false charity to one of social responsibility. I must also thank those who followed in his footsteps at Id-Dar tal-Providenza, Mons. Gatt and Fr Martin Micallef.

I think that my friends who will be moving in Akwarell in the coming days will agree with me when I say that we are indebted to all those of you who continue to help and support us to achieve the best possible quality of life.
I trust in your continued support.

Thank you all!

Have a good day...

Footnotes

As explained in my last entry Meditations in Watercolor, last Thursday, I participated in an activity to inaugurate the official opening of our new home at Qawra. I explained how I was asked to be one of the speakers for the occasion - especially since I‚ll be one of the ones who will be living there for the forthcoming future. Since some have expressed the wish to get an idea of what my speech was about, I have decided to share the text I used as a guide in document for my speech. Incidentally, I would later discover that November 22 was also Thanksgiving in the US, so it‚Äôs a speech appropriate to mark such a day - which was, in a sense, an occasion of expressing my thanks and gratitude for the opportunity to live more independently.

*The word "Akwarell" is the Maltese word meaning "water-colour painting".

The Myths of independence and the Self-Made Person

As I try to figure out what is the matter with my laptop, I realise how much I have become dependent on technology in my daily life. Indeed, one may say that I might be more dependent than other people on technology, especially information technology due to my physical and visual impairments. I realise that if I had just been born just 40 years ago, much of what I have today would have been unthinkable. 

It’s sad but true, but I would probably be staring at the wall waiting for the time to pass, forgotten perhaps, in some institution with no hope of release. And, yes, today I would be 71 today. OK, given that medical treatment to treat my condition were only just being experimented, I would probably be dead. Six feet under. Caput! Finis. Indeed, if it hadn’t been for technological progress (here I’m including medical discoveries) and reform in the socio-political landscape, my current life wouldn’t just be impossible but inconceivable.

I used to believe once in the fairy tale of the self-made individual. A person who goes from being a pauper to a prince, from rags to riches… You get the picture. But even the great “geniuses” of history that we, including self, have thought to have achieved what they have out of sheer will or determination had lots and lots of help and opportunities that allowed them to reach their peak.

However, we tend to mythologise the lives of these so-called “geniuses” and, perhaps conveniently, forget that they had access to opportunities that improved their chances of success.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not denying that such individuals did nothing. In fact, they have developed extraordinary skills and abilities. But to assume that they were born with special abilities would be stuff of fantasy and Hollywood movies. Yes, people may be born with a predisposition to excel in music, science or the arts, for example, if they are not exposed to the right stimuli or in an environment that cultivates their minds, they would not manifest anything.

What if Mozart had been born in a poor family where children had to work the hard way and there was simply no place for music as this wouldn’t contribute to thee livelihood of the family? What if Einstein was born in a part of India where the poverty was so pervasive that the only maths and physics necessary were to calculate how much money you can spend and whether you can balance your food or water to reach home - if you have one that is.

My point is simply that it would be false to believe that individuals can make it on their own. There were many factors, often omitted from biographies, that contributed if not made it possible for people to maximise their potential. This myth of independence and independent actualisation is particularly dangerous when applied to disabled people. I don’t know how many times I was praised for my resolve and determination to go on with life. While my choices had a certain influence on my current position, I would be pretentious and ‘full of it’ if I declared I did it all on my own. Indeed, people with impairments, like myself, may need more help and support to maximise their potential. Will and determination have only a little part to play in all this. If you have a choice but do not know you have one in the first place, it is unlikely that you will take it.

That’s why I believe that we should recognise that the idea of complete independence is but a myth. No one can make it on his or her own in modern society. I also think that we must refrain from mythifying the lives of others just because we think they “have beaten all odds”. Instead, we should be asking why haven’t more people experiencing the same conditions and situations failed to improve on their lives. Is the myth of independent autonomy, as we may call it, a way to rationalise the injustices of poverty and inequality? Are these our way to deny responsibility for the welfare of the whole of society not just those we deem ‘deserving’.

And, I believe, we shouldn’t start pointing at our leaders, our politicians, or those in authority, but first ask ourselves what we are doing ourselves. And, many times, this means distancing ourselves from our own affiliations, biases, prejudices and assumptions and start to treat each other with equal respect and dignity as any other human being.

Yes, I should start with my own life.

My Personal Commitment to the Call of Compassion: 100 Posts On...

This is the 100th entry I’m posting on the ZoneMind. To be honest when I first started writing entries with my first simply called Beginnings I posted on that Saturday of May 2011, I wasn’t sure what I would be getting into. Moreover, I had no idea on how this blog would develop and whether I’ll continue updating it and not, like on some occasions before in real life, simply left it to undergo an eventual death of its own.

I am, at one level, satisfied that I have managed to keep this blog up for as long as I did. Indeed, I hope to continue updating it as I grow older. Of course, my outlook on life and my engagement with Buddhism and Buddhist practice will remain an essential part of the inspiration for my posts here. I must admit that I found a home in the Buddhist dharma or teachings of the Buddha. A feeling that I cannot fully express but which, I feel, has given me a lot and a state of refuge.

However, in spite of the fact that this journey of self-discovery has enriched my appreciation of life and brought me closer to other human beings, For sure, it  hasn’t made me impassive to the human situation. Indeed, as I write this I am happy but I am still pained when I hear of the natural disasters currently taking place. I am saddened to hear of the horror of war and conflict happening in the world. I am angered when I hear of injustice and corruption that seem to tarnish all trust in human nature.

I feel helpless because I know that there is little I can really do and all I can do is to contribute to the happiness of those around me and try to change all our lives for the better. I cannot say that I have succeeded. aFter all, throughout my life, I have taken up so many identities that may be conflicting. As a child, I took the identity of a member of an elite group for the alternative was undesirable. Later on in life, I felt like a victim as I got into grips with an additional visual impairment. This led me to adopting an identity of disability activist. Throughout my life I have been defined as a “Christ figure” bearing the cross of my impairment or as a “less fortunate” person.

Yet, no matter how I defined myself or any way others tended to define me failed to acknowledge me as a full human being. I always defined myself in terms of restrictive labels. Others defined me on their own terms. I was never free from imposed identities placed by others and those I chose myself. These last ones  appeared more liberating. But was I denying the most important thing of all, the value of being human?

Have I really stopped and asked myself why people thought I was different and not fully human? I now approach the same feelings and thoughts that emerge in my daily life with compassion. I, myself, feel the need to be treated with compassion and not with pity. For compassion treats others as equals, it doesn’t patronise or take up from an assumed higher position.

Some may say that in affirming a commitment to compassion, I am somewhat too soft and unrealistic. But I dare to be different. For here I am simply affirming my humanity. I am no different than other human being, I am no different, biologically, to any other primate and I am not different, materially, than other particle mass. At the same time, I am self-aware and in this sense, I have additional responsibility over the welfare of the world and those around me. These express the three main fundamentals of Buddhist teachings which I have dealt with extensively throughout this blog.

The fact that who we are arises dependently (dependent arising) which expresses the truth that without our relation to the world and others, we would never achieve our full human potential.
The fact that we are co-dependent (or inter-dependent) on the world and others. Apart from taking up the qualities of being human, we sustain who we are thanks to a close relationship between the world and others.
We are impermanent. The third teaching also affirms how we are inseparable from the world and others. It makes us aware of the fact that, like other things, we are not permanent and will one day be no more in our present forms.

Of course, even if they appear simple, these teachings offer much space for thought and further meditation for  future posts.

I’m not denying that I remain respectful of other spiritual traditions which I was brought up with, such as Roman Catholicism, or have become a secularist with its multiple   connotations. What I have discovered was that I feel what the world needs now is the promotion of an environment of compassion and the cultivation of inner peace and self-awareness. In this, I confess I have been greatly inspired by His Holiness the Dalai Lama whom I respect greatly .

Finally, I also wish to thank everyone who, directly and indirectly, helped me go on writing new entries to add to this blog. Thus, I thank my family, friends, even my enemies and all living beings for, unknowingly, helping me to write these first 100 entries!

The 'Normality' of Impairment

Since I adopted a Buddhist outlook on life, I've felt that I've found home. Yes, my experience is subjective and very personal. I don't claim that other ways by which people can create meaning in life are of less value. Thus, I don take any radical position that is extremely secular or religious but focus on its consistence to truth. What I seek to build is and attain a state of genuine love and compassion.

At times, I do forget that by now, I should have gone beyond limiting who I am as, say, defining who I was solely on the basis of my impairment and social disability. This doesn't mean that I've abandoned my commitment to promote equality and uireinclusion. However, this requires me to adjust my approach inachieving equality. I recognise today how a dialogue of reconciliation was far better than one based on confrontation.

After all, while contemporary society still tends to describe me as 'abnormal' and even 'special', this same society forgets that people with impairments are the 'real human norm'. For, as long as we live, we will continue to regress both physically and mentally as we age. of course, we may age differently in old age. Yet, by denying the everyday reality of impairment we are also denying the human value of others whose life is consistent with reality.

Through a personal commitment to rediscover true happiness in my life and reclaim my humanity, I may invariably erected barriers with those who appeared to oppress me. The irony, Oc course, what this result was the last thing I wanted.

That's why I feel more connected with those I might have considered enemies. That's why I believe in taking the first step and take it from there.

I was surprised at what an approach based on the values of love and compassion can have on my own happiness and peace!!!

No One Remembers A Loser

Since the world's attention, especially of sports enthusiasts, is drawn on the events of the London Olympics 2012, I thought I might take some time to meditate on the significance of the Olympics. Of course, there were many topics that I could have addressed in this entry. I could ask different questions and considered whether this international event builds bridges between nations. I could have reflected on humanity's ability to push their limits. I could have questioned the fact that people like me, who are disabled, have to participate in a separate para-olympics as if we're not to mix with other athletes. Granted, we may engage in adaptations of certain sports and we would  disadvantaged if we competed with others who lack impairments that would pose limits to their performance. But, as I see it, disabled and non-disabled athletes could learn from each other on many levels.

Yet, I chose to write about "losers", or those athletes who won nothing, performed poorly or even didn't get to the finish line. Even if we say that what is important is participating - not winning - the nature of competitive sport is to ensure you outperform your rival. In such an environment, what matters most is to win. Success is measured by how many points you have gained and failure is disgraceful and not tolerated. In addition, winning is an achievement not only for your team, friends or family but can also an act of patriotism and and a political statement. It has been used to promote the ideologies of Nazism in earlier times.

However, the athletes competing find themselves training to win a gold medal. So, it's only natural that after you have dreamt of excelling and of winning Olympic medals, you don't qualify for any medal. After all the sacrifice , the training and hours preparing for success, you end up empty-handed. You feel you've failed your country, your team, your friends and your family and loved ones. Yet, you also know that you have failed your self. You relive your "failure" ovER and over in your mind. You try to understand what went wrong. You find no answers that fully satisfy. If your fall was serious, you might be remembered as a "loser.

I have never an interest in sport. Despite this fact, there were occasions when I felt I worked hard to achieve a goal, only to fail. I would ask myself how this could have happened. Hadn't I done all my best? I would be disappointed and indulge in self-pity as if I was the victim of a great injustice. I would conclude that it was my fault, or on the other extreme, try to blame external factors. Instead of learning from my experience, I wouldn't move on.

While there's nothing wrong with disappointment and in taking some time to mourn over your loss, I realise today that, at one point, you must put the past behind. This isn't saying that you deny what happened but that you take it as an opportunity to grow. Indeed, such an experience could be opportunity to put your life into perspective and rethinking your life priorities. Unfortunately, our world seems only to celebrate success while ostracising so-called "losers".

On the other hand, the world forgets that true success is often a product of many failures. Our life is the same. Sadly, we often believe in the myths of perfection. A perfection that contradicts the way the world is. We are deluded in a belief that failure is unacceptable and excellence is the ultimate goal. As a child, I learned to walk and I had many falls as well. Now, I find not enough strength to walk or stand up for long. Am I a loser for not persisting in trying and use my time and energy in an attempt to get back to the past? I do understand that some would interpret my choice as admitting failure and I do respect made by other people in my position to recover their strength. Then again, I chose to adapt and dedicate my life to living life. And even if the world might judge me as a loser, I don't to remain attached to a goal that is unrealistic.

I wish everyone competing in this year's London Olympics, all the success. However, in case you lose or under perform, take this as an opportunity to learn from this experience and be prepared to accept that this is part of being human..

While this might be a bitter drug to swallow, you are the only one who really knows how much you have put into it. At the same time, remember that neither success or failure defines who you as a person.

The Shackles of Attachment

We may go on through life chasing a dream, drowning our pain and failure in pleasure. We may even obsess about achieving a position, making more money and buying possessions which, we become convinced, will make us happy. We may lose ourselves in the pursuit of a love interest or, on the other extreme, strive to escape from the reality which we feel is the cause of our unhappiness.

While our circumstances and positions of life may indeed be the source of our suffering, we cannot address our unhappiness if we aren’t aware of who we are. For, in searching for external factors to find our happiness won’t solve the problem on its own. If when I was a teenager, I had remained attached to the past when I could walk more, I might have probably achieved nothing in my life - except perhaps hoping in a miracle.

However, I took a more pragmatic approach and invested in a wheelchair. Even if I was reluctant to be seen using my wheelchair, I had to accept that my life changed and I couldn’t cling to a past that was no more. Over the years, I did have moments when I recall, with nostalgia, the many things I used to do as a child. Yet, I also recognise that in letting go of my attachment to an idealised past, I was choosing to live. Of course, many have described my life in many ways for continuing to live on.

Yet, the way I see it, I followed a very human quality we all have. I adapted to new circumstances. Part of that adaptability requires of us to let go of our attachments or to afflictive desires. We must adapt to change, for if we didn’t change, we would die to life. We would suffer the pains of dissatisfaction or dukkha. The only way to move on is to recognise that as long as aren’t prepared to recognise the illusion of our wanting, we will never be truly happy.

For, whether we accept it or not, life changes all the time. Even our identities, self-definition, religion, philosophies, politics, or aspirations are not permanent. Yes, they may form important parts of who we are today, but they are not us. Who we are goes beyond all the shackles that hinder our full being, clouds that hide from us our authentic beings and barriers that create divisions between each other.

Today, as a practicing meditator following Buddhist principles, I acknowledge how many identities I have adopted in an attempt to fit in a world, I felt didn’t understand who I was. I still feel isolated at times and misunderstood as well. However, I realise that before I expected the world to accept who I was, I was the first who has to make an effort to understand the world. Even if people still binds me to a social position and a fixed identity, I acknowledge the fact that I remain a human being.

For all I am doing or what I am doing is only borne out of a need to assert my human status. Even if I may identify more closely with certain groups of people, I am learning the importance of cultivating a compassion that genuinely seeks to understand others. A compassion where I listen and not jump to conclusions. A compassion that recognises our basic vulnerability and dependence as human beings.

For nothing in this world will last forever. A life that seeks happiness in material things on their own is doomed to be a life of dissatisfaction. It’s only when we accept life as it is and do our best to reduce unnecessary suffering can we be truly happy. It’s only when we open our heart to who we are and to the hearts of others can we be truly satisfied.

Nothing else matters...

What am I? The Second Question of Belonging.

Follows from Who am I?

 

 

I continue to reflect on the meaning of who I am as a human being today. In this entry, which started as a series of three questions on authentic being, I will try to put forward a few points for reflection. In particular, to answers to the question about what we are.

Even if there may be no real distinction between who we are and what we are, I feel that this question relates more to our sense of identity in the social and human context in which we live.

Today, I find that a common answer that is provided when asked about who we are is related either to our work or position within our family and other organisations. In this sense, what we are is sometimes understood by what we do. Indeed, many choose to define themselves by what they do in their daily life. Thus, many who find themselves without work for various reasons become, in a sense, ‘nothing’ or, at best, those ‘others’ in society that we talk about and not whom we talk with. They remain hidden in misconceptions and a kind of mystery. They are like ghosts who don’t belong neither the land of the living or the realm of the dead.

 

But, in truth, aren’t we all living ghosts? Robbed of our names, our religion, our politics, our philosophy, our social groups, and so on and so forth, what remains of us?

 

Assuming that we are born in society and grow among other human beings, we develop a sense of belonging. We are given a name that identifies us as an individual, we are born in a family or a community that endows us with a culture and heritage, we acquire a language or many languages which directs how we will express who we are. We may acquire religion or a philosophy about how the world works and about the meaning of life. This list goes on.

 

Yet, while there’s nothing wrong with the need to belong, it’s dangerous if our sense of belonging becomes more of an attachment and a vehicle to discriminate, denigrate and humiliate those outside our group. I feel that, even in my life, I felt an outsider and never really fitted in either the ‘normal’ society or the ‘special’ society of persons with impairments. Indeed, I was a disabled person who lived most of his early life with non-disabled people. Yet, I never felt I belonged anywhere in particular.

 

Now, I perhaps, know the reason. A reason that relates to answering the question of belonging - not just in my case but for everyone. And, the answer is really simple. We can proclaim we belong to a group and even express our pride in this. Such a thing is not wrong but it risks creating between us differences not based on facts or reality but rather on thoughts and misguided ideas. It can close our hearts to the commonality of the human experience with all its beauty and suffering. It also shuts our minds to ways to make things better for all of us and not for one particular group or not.

 

Then, what are we? We may rightly define ourselves in terms of our tradition, beliefs and ideas. Yet, the fact remains is that what we are cannot be bound to a set of thoughts or words. Indeed, what we are is human beings who have the potential to transcend our differences and even adapt ourselves to new situations and realities. Yet, the fact remains that we are dependent on others in this world. We cannot belong to ourselves for who we are is a product of our heritage of evolution and of human society. In this sense, we belong to humankind before anything else.

 

 Continues and ends with the last question Why am I?

A Forgotten Childhood?

As a young boy, I was curious to know about how the world worked. I also wanted to know what life was all about. I wanted to know to gain a kind of closure and some answers to the question of why I had an impairment, when other boys my age were considered “normal” and “healthy”. I just didn’t understand why the God the priests praised so much on the altar who was so kind and loving had punished me from birth. Surely, I had done something really awful. I was a bad child of God and had to accept my fate without question. Indeed, I needed to redeem myself. If I think about it, my impairment back then was not as severe as it is today. True, I couldn’t bend my legs straight and my gait, which was described by a doctor in one medical report was a “scissor’s gait” was close enough to reality. I could still walk and run at the time but still it bothered me that in spite of what I did, I was different in eyes of others.

With all good intentions, even those close to me wanted me to become “normal” and within a culture very influenced by religious sentimentality, I was prayed on and loved ones hoped for a “miracle” to happen. I was happy as a child but I was also unhappy. For whatever I did and any efforts I made I couldn’t become “normal”. Yes, that! What was more troubling was that I identified on some level with Satan. Hadn’t be also rejected from God and cast away to an eternal torment. But, unlike Satan, I was determined to return in God’s good books. But at around 8, I started experiencing the reality outside of the safety of the home. I met new people and different children. Many looked at me through their presumptions about my physical impairment and told me that I “inspired” them and given that troubling reassurance that I was bearing the “cross of Christ”. When I felt no different than other kids my age. But, in a way, I was.

The fact was that I was made to think. I dared to doubt. And, while a spiritual revolution was taking place in my mind, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t articulate it in a way others could understand it. I sought refuge in trying to find answers beyond me. I wanted to knoW WHY. wHY HAD MY BROTHER DIED BEFORE I COULD GET TO KNOW HIM? Why I was born this way? Why was God angry at me? Was I a saint walking on the footsteps of Christ or a sinner bearing the torment of a banished hell angel? Yes, I was happy then. But there was always that foreknowing that this life will end. And then what will become of me? And was there a God any way? Or were we at the mercy of a God who was like those Greek gods I read in some of my books that toyed around with human BEINGS AS IF THEY WERE PAWNS ON CHESS BOARD?

I THOUGHT AND THOUGHT. DURING THOSE COLD WINTER NIGHTS WHEN I LOOKED WITH AWE AT THE DARK SKY TINTED WITH SILVER STARS. THE SAME STARS THE ANCIENT EGYPTIANS HAD STUDIED A THOUSAND YEARS AGO. THE SAME STARS THAT THE BIBLE SAYS HERALDED THE BIRTH OF THE JEWISH MESSIAH. THE SAME STARS THAT GUIDED SO MANY SEAFARERS. I was connected then with the past I shared with my ancestors. The same stars that were there at the beginning of the cosmos. The same stars but not yet the same. These are still stars that may not all be there today as their light takes millions of years to reach us. Stars are a connection with the past that is no longer there.

For a young boy, these thoughts were overwhelming. So many questions. So few answers. Many of which were incomplete or beyond my understanding. And yet, nobody in my life seemed to be asking why? People who claimed they were “people of faith” appeared to be interested in winning a place in heaven and saving their lives rather than living the spirit of love and compassion and reflecting on their lives. They weren’t asking about the wonders of this universe we find ourselves in. They weren’t asking themselves why they were the lucky ones to live on Earth in the first place.

But, yes, they were interested in making more money and searching for happiness in things that never lasted. Even their aspiration to gain heaven was motivated by a hope to experience pleasure and freedom from pain. Bt they forgot that heaven was now. What happens in the future is beyond our control. It’s only now that we can change the world. It’s only now that we can change ourselves. And, yes, I gradually became the adult I feared to become as a child. True, I tended to more open to different people because, I myself, had been judged simply for being different. Yet, many of those early attachments that I hoped to never acquire, I did acquire. So, I can’t really judge.

I may choose to go deeper into my past but I am restricted by time and space.I just wanted to share these memories as I keep growing in self-awareness. As I said in early posts, I am now on a journey of self-discovery. I am engaging more in Buddhist practice. I feel a sense of peace and happiness that I can’t really express using language. But, it’s there and it’s changing my life. For the better. I don’t expect for you to understand and I certainly don’t write to convert anyone to Buddhism and to take up a daily practice of meditation and mindfulness. I am just writing after reflecting on my own experience of life. At that, my experience of life is very limited when compared to the what one can experience in the longest of human lifetimes. It is also infinitesimal if you compare it to the age of the cosmos. But, yet, as insignificant as it might be, this life is really the only thing I have.

I end this entry here hoping. Hoping that tomorrow will come. That I will be still alive tomorrow. That the Earth will be here tomorrow. That those around me are still there with me. But there’s always the possibility of change. A change that isn’t necessarily bad but, at times, also necessary if we are to continue living. Yet, tomorrow remains only a hope and whether you’re a believer or non-believer, we all hold an irrational faith in a tomorrow.

A Disability Activist and a Buddhist at Heart

When I started blogging on the Gordon's D-Zone, I intended this blog to deal with  the issue of disability as I developed my understanding of disability from a social model perspective. I retain my commitment to the cause of disabled people worldwide. I do so both as an activist and as a disabled person myself. I don't think that I will retire from this struggle for inclusion and equality until society acknowledges that people with impairment, like myself, are part of society and takes our differences into account.

Having said that, my life has led me to appreciate different things and over time I have explored various areas and developed new interests. However, my involvement in disability activism is motivated by a desire to be included as a person and as an equal to others. I want to see, for example, a philosophy that celebrates human diversity rather than one attached to certain ideals of bodily perfection. Or else, a science which doesn't assume that impairment necessarily causes a drop in one's quality off life or tries to psychologically scrutinise our minds making claims that dealing with  impairment and bereavement are, in any way, similar. I also wish that I was included as a person in religion and spirituality which sometimes have used our impaired bodies as a metaphor for sin or evil.

I have recently been admitted to hospital and, to be honest, I am still facing health issues lately. I thought it wasn't appropriate to write about this on this blog given the tendency for impairment to be associated with suffering. But, I admit, the hospital experiences I had over the last six months have led me to ask a lot of questions and delve deeper into my spiritual side. Indeed, I have been questioning the purpose of life for some months and I confess I found solace in Buddhism. Indeed, I feel that I can relate to the Buddhist outlook on life. I can't really explain it, but I feel connected to Buddhism more than I ever felt before with any world view or philosophy. I am now confident enough to be more open about it and, finally, I thought that I needed to express it on this blog - which was where my blogging all started.

It may not be   the best time to express my Buddhist confession - given it's Easter and I was brought up as a Roman Catholic. However, my embracing of a Buddhist mindset isn't a declaration where I reject all I have learned as a Roman Catholic. Indeed, I have come to appreciate the richness of both Christianity and Buddhism. This "awakening" so to speak is a personal one. I don't want anyone to follow any path that they feel goes against their religious (or other) convictions. Indeed, I will surely discover more aspects to who I am as the years pass., Life is a process and not a closed book.

Tomorrow, Christians around the world celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. In some respects, this is also an awakening. It's a renewal. Yet, the miracle of this event is, I think, that it offers hope to all of us as it illustrates that even death hasn't got the final say. Some of you might doubt whether there is an after-life or claim to be non-believers. Yes, no one has concrete proof that there's life after death or if there's anything beyond this life. The Buddha teaches us to be aware of the present moment because, in reality, our pasts are but a memory and the future is yet to be. At least, that's my interpretation. In the Buddha's outlook on life, the only thing that we can change is the present and the only person we can truly manage is ourselves. Our suffering is caused by our clinging to things that are really temporary. Well, there's my Buddhist thoughts flowing.

If you're interested to read about my journey into Buddhism, please refer to my "Buddhist" blog at ZoneMind. I assure you that I'll continue writing here from the perspective of  a disability activist.

However, at this stage, I wanted to be open about my realisation because a Buddhist understanding is now part of who I am.

More Information

Above, , I've included an entry that I published on one of the other blogs I contribute to. While in this blog, Gordon's D-Zone, I deal with issues that relate to my experience as a disabled person, I decided to rite this post in order to reveal a part of who I am that I'm discovering through my engagement with Buddhism and which many people would be unaware of. Indeed, in this entry, I tried to express how I am feel today and to raise awareness of the fact that, ultimately, my realisation is that, that of the day, I want to be treated as a human being as much as anyone else and that this also involves going beyond simply acceptingg our differences but going as far as celebrating them as part of our human diversity. Well, hope you enjoy!!!

GET IN TOUCH!

Feel free to leave your comments below or if you prefer, contact me via twitter or vii a e-mail

Lessons in Humility

The last week has been quite hard on me as my back pain has returned which makes getting around more painful and difficult. Yes, my back pain is back! I can’t deny that I find it hard to do the things I could do a week ago but I’ve come to accept that this, like anything else, is only temporary. Of course, I do take pain medication to alleviate some of my pain but I try to reduce the amount of medication I take.

Since my back went on strike, I found myself having to rely on others for physical support. Not that, given my mobility impairment, I find myself in situations when I do require help. But, I try my best to make an effort when I can. At the same time, I don’t feel less of a person if I need to ask for help - sometimes from strangers. Before, I used to be proud and reject, if I could, any attempts to assist me. Now, as I ponder on the Buddhist idea of interdependence, I have come to understand how each of us depend on one another to live on this planet.

Two weeks ago, I was helped by a man who collected trash to help me on my wheelchair. If it hadn’t been for him, I’d probably have to miss work on that day. I felt that this act meant a lot to me. It wasn’t such any trouble for him as he was a strong man. But, to me, it was an act that permitted me to go on with my life. We often choose to divide people based on characteristics such as income, beauty, social status, and so on. In our restricted world view, I suspect that a garbage collector would be on the bottom of the list of people we want to be identified with.

Yet, in truth, if someone didn’t collect our rubbish, we would have a mess everywhere - not to mention a rise in illness and disease. Indeed, my encounter with this unknown person, has made me realise how much we really depend on other people to make our daily lives worthwhile. It has also made me aware of how misguided it is of us to attach ourselves to a belief that we are better than other people just because we have had the opportunity to get an education, or find a well paid job or even because we belong to a particular faith community.

I’m not saying that all these are without value. I’m just saying that they are secondary to the most important thing of all - our humanity. For whoever we are and wherever we live  or whatever we do, we remain human beings who must face the same problems life throws at us. We remain dependent on the world around us for our survival. We depend on other living beings to sustain our mind and bodies. 

In short we are interdependent. We can never be independent. These are the lessons I have learned from my encounter with that man. There’s nothing to be ashamed of when you have to ask for help. It’s not a sign of weakness either. For, if you think about it, it takes courage to swallow your pride and ask for help.

It’s part of being human.

But you have to be humble enough to acknowledge it...

So, yes, I am not ashamed to admit I was helped by a garbage collector. For he and I share more similarities than differences.

In Search of Perfect Peace

First, a haiku...

I sought perfection.

To find nothingness and death

Barren, perfect peace.

Now, a few reflections…

There is a sense of peace as I write this entry on the last day of my Easter break. Indeed, I feel well enough to  return to work tomorrow. I did  a lot of writing and soul-searching in the past weeks and, to be honest, I feel rather worn out. Of ideas, at least.

There was so much to process over the last weeks that I can’t believe that it all happened just like that. The time I spent at hospital is now but a memory. As I slowly return to my usual routine, all that happened before seems so irrelevant and, yes, unreal. The only thing that remains is the insight I have gained from that experience. I feel that I’ve given so much of myself over the last weeks or two. Now, I’m ready to receive and bear witness to life.

But is this real peace?

When we talk of peace, we usually think of a state where there exists no conflict and we have no more to worry about. We dream of achieving an ultimate state of perfection. When all things go as we have planned. When reality matches our dreams and aspirations. But, this isn’t how life works. That perfect peace is but an illusion that causes so much unnecessary suffering. It deprives us of an opportunity to change. It turns living into mediocrity.

I don’t know what motivated me to write on peace and perfection. Perhaps it’s an attempt to understand why there comes a point when I really have nothing to say. A point When we have  to admit that we must be receptive to the world around us. A moment in time when our minds have to let go of their preconceptions and tendency to judge. Yes, I have sought perfection and peace as I saw them -   but achieving both could bring about a kind of death. Not necessarily a physical one but more of a spiritual one.

For the real  peace I seek should be one that celebrates  life and embraces change. For life is, in truth, change. A person who doesn’t grow or renew is but a corpse - devoid of life and lacking the spirit of humanity. I, myself, have struggled with the idea of perfection. I felt that I could never be at peace if my body wasn’t close to the ideal body that society so glorified and commended. I was, indeed, physically impaired and, later, acquired a visual impairment. These didn’t fit well with the bodily ideal of perfection that I was exposed to. We dream of a time when we will end all this material suffering. Yet, I dare ask whether if we really become “perfect”, would this world truly be a better place? If we became “immortal” and retain our youthful energy, would that make us better humans?

Again, I don’t have the answers. What I know is that over the years I always depended on others in some way or another. I have felt moments when I did hate my body for being limiting and restrictive. Yet, today, I have come to realise that society had a role to play in making me feel unwanted, unwelcome or even  a burden. And yet, I’m not totally  dependent on others. On the contrary, I’m sure that others depend on me. But even if I didn’t, would that reduce my value as a person? Is our worth as humans dictated by what we do?

I’m afraid that in the West where the economy has gained considerable influence and power over our lives, we are being valued more for what we do rather than on who we are. The simple fact is that we are commodifying life. We are treating other human beings like us as property. Suddenly, people are defined in terms of economics. Make no mistake, this is modern slavery. And we accept it because we have become too attached to the material fruit of this state of affairs. There’s nothing wrong with that. Indeed, I really enjoy the good things that the modern world has made possible. Indeed, if I think about it, it would be unimaginable for me to reach the world through writing if it weren’t advances in technology, in political and social organisation and, yes, in our economy.

However, the danger is when we become slaves to this material wealth. It is then when we lose sight of the important things in life. It’s than that money takes the place of human life. It’s then when we have regress. It’s when we persist in perceiving ourselves as separate and independent individuals that the tragedy happens. When countries fail to intervene  while there’s still hope that lives can be saved that we fail. We can never be separate. We can never claim to be independent.

I end this rather unstructured post with hope. Hope that the world will one day be at peace. This isn’t saying that I hope that  all disease will be eradicated (not that isn’t commendable). Nor that people will not age or die any more. I can’t hold on to  unrealistic hopes. Painful as they might be, These realities, I learned, are an intrinsic part of the process of life. Without them, change wouldn’t happen and new life would be impossible.

What I hope is that we, me included, recognise our essential humanity - our essential common experiences. For whatever your creed or belief, you must face the same stages  of life as anyone else, including death. This is the  reality. We may choose to waste our lives pursuing a perfection that isn’t there and a peace that doesn’t really satisfy us. When instead, we should appreciate what we have and, yes, improve on it. But not at the cost of losing our compassion and ability to relate to other human beings as persons and not as objects.

When Buddha was teaching the four noble truths, the first truth he taught was that “life is dukkha”. The word “dukkha” is a Pali word which has been  inaccurately translated as “suffering”. However, a more accurate  translation of the word “dukkha” is “dissatisfaction”.  A dissatisfaction that cannot be resolved until we stop hanging on to our attachments - whether they are material or abstract in nature.

Paradoxically, we may find peace in our lives and discover perfection in our lives when we recognise that peace and perfection aren’t in the future. That in reality they can be found in our  ordinary everyday lives. If we are prepared to  receive.  and

Is this the authentic peace we are seeking? Is this a perfection that transcends all things?

You decide...

Facing the Call - Ending

Continues from Part 3

We’ve reached thee end of this series where I re-examine the purpose of my life. Ironically, it had to be the new year which was prompted me to realize that I couldn’t go on with one of my aspirations mainly due to persistent health problems. I spent these days meditating on this choice between working and living what would be considered a rather 'ordinary' life, I finally come to a realization. Not perfect or complete

I've realized how I may have been superficial in some ways by expecting that by advancing in one area of my life, I could gain a greater value as a person. When I should know that if it wasn't for the many people in my life - parents, siblings, relatives, friends, teachers, priests, - The list goes on and on - I wouldn't be who I am today. In addition, I realize I'm also indebted to the many figures who came here before me and who left their legacy to us. To be honest, I should also include my enemies to the list of people to be grateful to - not for the harm they seek or sought but for providing me with the opportunity to practice patience and grow in many ways in self-understanding.

We're truly so connected to each other and to all living beings and material things that we often miss it. Yet, when we lose an important part of our lives or are faced by a crisis, we become aware of how much we took what we had as if we could never lose it. as if things would never change. as if we had a right to own it - whatever it was. If you think about it, not even 'our' names are even our own. They were handed down to us by our caregivers and names emerge out of a long history and tradition. We all know that we're not our names or titles but we often act as if they had an existence beyond themselves.

But the truth I'm gaining over my Buddhist practice is that nothing actually exists without being intrinsically related to things or, in our case, to things, people and ideas. besides, as I consider how many changes that my mind and body have undergone, it's useless to cling to what we have been given. This isn't saying that we shouldn't value what we have but that we shouldn't give what we have undue value in our life. Like everything else, they must end one day. Yes, that includes you and me.

As I think about the decision I've taken to abandon my previous aspirations, which have to be put aside, I feel sad and disappointed. I can't deny that as I recall how much of time and energy I had already put into it. But the fact is that I'm not that strong to continue as I was. Yet, I've taken a choice to pursue my goal in another way and by using my potential as a writer to the fullest and to develop myself as a person.

The call isn't about gaining fame, fortune or recognition. It's about giving back the world some of what you've received. It's about reaching out to the world by being the best in the service of others - even if it means travellingtraveling in a lonely wilderness.

I think answering the call entails growing in our self-awareness and give our best to others in our own ways. To me, writing and communication may be potential ways of answering the call. However, whatever you feel you must do, answering my call means being authentic to your true being and to the world. But it’s my choice.

END

Facing the Call - Part 3

Continued from Part 2

At times, I really don’t know why I write. For all I know, nobody is reading this blog. I am aware of that with every new post I write. However, even if no one is actually reading these thoughts of mine, I still would feel compelled to write. I had an urge to write since I was younger and even if much of what I wrote rests some place I have forgotten or has since been destroyed, that act of writing would have been significant. Even if what I wanted to express remained lost to time, it granted me the opportunity to reach out of myself. Yes, the act of writing has a social element - it gives us the opportunity to reach out to others. Yet, it also gives us the chance to reach out to ourselves.

Indeed, if I had to read what I wrote when I was 12 or 13, I would have rediscovered part of who I was that had been long buried and forgotten. In this sense, the moment our thoughts are committed to writing, they become traces of the past. While this gives a certain magical quality to writing, the words and concepts we express through this medium remain corrupt versions of reality akin to the same words and concepts which are also distortions of reality they attempt in capturing. At the same time, writing and the language that is carried through this means of communication which is one of the means we have of reaching out to the world and beyond ourselves.

But why, you ask, do I write about writing? What does it have to do with the call? Or with the choices I have to take?It does in many ways as circumstances in my life prevent me from pursuing the path I thought I should follow. I won’t go into detail about these choices - at least not at present. However, suffice it to say that health issues have led me to rethink the choices I have made in different times. And here, writing comes into the picture. Mind you, I don’t intend to embark on writing fiction or long non-fiction works - although these can’t be fully excluded. However, I believe that through my writing, I can positively contribute to my field of interests, which include disability issues. Of course, I will continue my writing on this and the other of my blogs. Indeed, the choice to invest in developing my writing should give me greater chance to explore other facets of life that I might have neglected.

I have almost come to a close to what appears will be a four-part series. I hope that this post and the future ending will not be, to you, a disappointing anti-climax. However, I feel it’s important to deal with real life issues when considering my growth in self-awareness, or rather in my understanding of the meaning of life. Ultimately, anyone who has taken the time to meditate and practice will tell you that the ultimate application of all this undertaking should be the real world outside.

The last question that I need to answer is what I learned from all this. How can I grow by taking this step forward into an uncertain future? Does this what facing the call involve? Does this move to dedicate more of my time to writing actually fulfil my authentic being?CContinues...

Facing the Call - Part 2

Continues from Part 1

We can take a look at our lives as a continuous sequence of changes where we are partly in control of our futures. Our challenge is to be able to live up to the situations that life throws at us without growing too attached to a set of ideas about who we are and what we should be in life. I'm having to learn that lesson over again as I rethink my choices in life. Admittedly, if you consider the nature of suffering in Buddhist teachings, one realises that the account of reality we were invited to embrace is not a sweet pill to swallow. But no truth is easy to digest.W e sometimes refrain from taking important decisions in our daily life out of fear or because deep inside we want what we can't possibly have. In my case, a number of health issues have forced me to rethink my priorities and change the path I thought I had to follow to be of value. \

It isn't the first time that my body forced me to rethink my life. It happened when I had to abandon my Masters degree for a while, only to engage in another one as I grew used to a visual impairment I had acquired on top of my mobility impairment. At the time, I thought that this was the end to my life and happiness but time would reveal that there were many people out there who were ready to help and provide me with support. Indeed, this event changed me in many ways and introduced me to a new life, new friends and, eventually, to new opportunities
. You have a choice and I chose to continue not out of bravery or determination but because, it was that or a fall into an abyss of depression and self-pity. It was a question of survival.

It is then that you appreciate how precious life is. How you can't take anything for granted. How a single action - a single choice - can not only change your life but even your personality and outlook on life. and it sets you thinking whether there is something tangible and real about who you presume you are. Then you wonder whether you're living up to your fullest and whether you're doing your best - even when faced with seemingly insurmountable obstacles. when you find yourself, like I have, in a time where there' seems to be no hope. But, then you know., that as even the mightiest mountain will turn into dust, even the darkest of moments will be illuminated by the light of hope. as we grow in our understanding of who we are, the obscurity of ignorance will be overpowered by the light of wisdom.

I ask you why deny ourselves the opportunity to cultivate peace into our own hearts? Why do we have to rely on things outside us to be happy? And isn't more important to be true to ourselves rather than a slave to our desires and cravings that, if uncontrolled, will burn us out. My current position in life is delicate and full of confusion and fear. But I find refuge in knowing that no matter how bad things may get, the hard times will pass. Of that I'm sure.

But, in order for us to find true peace and happiness, it's important to be willing to give up our need to own the world and stop attempting everything in our power to preserve what, ultimately, is empty and illusionary. In our journey to find our true purpose, it's vital that we are able to respond to what the core of our being is telling us without preoccupying our thoughts with things that aren't that important..

And, what is my inner being telling me?

Continues...

Facing the Call - Part 1

I confess that there have been a lot of thoughts going through my mind over the holidays. Now that we’re in 2012, I feel I must deal with this sense of unfulfillment and longing that has appeared consistently over the course of the last weeks. There is no denying that I have lived a good life - despite any problems that I had to deal with over my relatively short life. Indeed, 30 years is really just a little amount of time and experience in the history of a person. One can imagine, then, how insignificant this period of life would be when compared to that of the oldest creature alive, or to that of the world or else, the universe.

However, the fact remains that I believe that I learned a lot from the experiences that I went through. And there is so much more that I need to learn. It’s far too easy to seek refuge in the familiar but this isn’t how life works. I have often wondered as I meditate about the meaning of my life. I have gone through a lot of hardships but, so far, I survived. Yet, despite this fact, there is still a part of me which fears the future. After all, there were so many things that happened in my life that I didn’t expect or prepare for, such as the increase in the severity of my physical impairment and, later, the acquisition of a visual impairment. Yes, I have prevailed as a visually impaired wheelchair user but this is not out of any extraordinary will or courage.

The fact is that if I hadn’t adapted to the changes which happened in my life, some of resulting in radical changes, I would either lose my mind or else close myself to the world or even spend the rest of my life on a death wish. But, in no way, am I free of dark moments where I wished I had never been born at all. These are only natural feelings that we sometimes must deal with in the course of life. Surviving is a matter predicated by many factors that are, in most cases, beyond our control. And, still, the little degree of choice we have control over is enough to make that difference in our lives.

However, that moment of choice must be taken seriously and with great responsibility. Of course, not all decisions in life carry the same weight and the consequences of decisions aren’t always that clear or predictable. At the same time, a few decisions require of us the courage to take them or else risk to lead a life of regret or denial. In both cases, we will end up disappointed - living a life we do not really like or to simply settle within our comfort zones and keeping our potential to a limit. As I proceed in my investigation of Buddhism, I am encouraged to take a step forward into the darkness of my soul. Haven’t I gone there before already?

In the course of the next posts, I’ll try to go further into an important question. One that concerns the very purpose of my life in view of changing circumstances.. Ultimately, it’s an exercise to explore whether I have gained enough experience to face the call within.

Continues ...

The Promises of Pain

Last Monday, I was given the bad news by my dentist that three teeth had simultaneously suffered a traumatic event and needed to be extracted as early as possible. Worse still, I was told that I could only have local anaesthetic for the procedure. I had hoped that since the extractions will be substantial and stressful to my body, I hoped that general anaesthesia will be an option. Over the last four days since I was informed that, one day or another in the next few weeks, I had to return to the dentist to have this procedure done, my thoughts have been preoccupied by the prospect of having this procedure. More precisely, I would imagine the pain I will have to endure. Even when I gathered my mind to meditate, my mind returned to this concern.

From then on, the good things that happened in my life and are happening right now have been overshadowed by this dental procedure I need to undergo soon. It’s funny, when you think about it, that my teeth could exert such power over me. But, then, this boils down to the idea of interdependence - in this case, the mutual dependence of all parts of the body and mind. Indeed, no organ or system can function to its full potential if just one part of the body wasn’t working as it should. Then again, as a disabled person with a physical and visual impairment, I also know that there is such a thing as adaptability. It’s here that I realise that, as with other things, the body is always in the process of change and decay.Yet, in no way does that diminish my humanity. For, at the end of the day, this has taught me humility that, in the past, I would consider a sign of weakness.

In a way, I was justified following years of being belittled and depicted as dependent. After all, I wanted to be seen as strong, autonomous and independent as a person. But now, I realise that I have gone over to the other extreme. I now came to understand what the middle way the Buddha taught actually meant. It is a realisation that, as humans, we remain dependent on each other - or interdependent. Those who think that they are in total control of their life are living a delusional existence. For, do they make their own clothes? Do they catch their own food or cultivate the crop? Do they build their own houses and take care of their plumbing or electricity? Ultimately, are they ready to live in total isolation from other people?

I hear you asking what all this have to do with my dental procedure. Until now, I was ruled by fear of the pain I would surely have to endure. I don’t know really how or when, but now I realise that my any pain that I might experience, even if not desirable, connects me to my humanity. My experience, yes, will be individual but not unique. As I write this, many millions are suffering pain, mental anguish and isolation. Others are dying or at the last moments of their life. There’s nothing pleasurable or nice about suffering. Yet, if there is anything to learn from it is that it’s something we share with everybody - irrespective of class, race, gender, age, creed, belief, lifestyle or disability. We are connected in this way. And, although it’s not easy to do, pain and suffering can only be overcome if we deal with them as they come - not denying them or inflating them. Whether we like it or not, pain is a form of suffering that is part of the human condition. It’s up to us to ensure that it doesn’t take control over our life.

As I will probably undergo my dental procedure in the next weeks, I hope that all will go well and that I get through with minimal pain and stress. I wish to avoid unnecessary suffering if I can. What I can say that the promise of a future pain has helped me to reach out to others and try to transcend my own personal concern. The promise of pain is helping me realise that I can’t go on feeding my fear but that I need to face the pain when it arises. The promise of pain has made me more human.

Who do you think you are?

If I had to ask you to define who you are, are you ready with an answer? The truth is that many live our life without asking this fundamental question. We seem to lose the ability to wonder at the beauty of the world that surrounds us. It appears as if we get used to the environment and people around us that we take them for granted. As if we have a claim to all we have. Or, what we think we have. This is perhaps one of the misfortunes of adulthood. Believing that we are independent of everything and everyone else.

Despite our belief in free will, we cannot escape the fact that we also define ourselves by our community, political and religious convictions and many more. In this sense, our independence of thought is, essentially, not as independent as we might wish to presume. There are also other factors that we have little control over, such as our height, skin colour, sex, and physical and mental functions. But then again, it’s difficult to explain why do we treat people on the basis on how they look or behave.

Unless, of course, we admit that we cannot define who we are outside of relationships. In other words, who we are must be defined in terms of a relation we have to another person or object. Our sense of being is dependent on language, culture and thinking itself. Without our body, who would we be? All this appears to offer us a bleak picture of life because, especially in Western thought, we have grown with the idea that we are independent and autonomous beings. The idea that this self-image is incorrect is devastating to a culture that professes an “I” in his/her own right.

Here, I must admit that living with my impairments has made me realise how dependent I was on others in different ways. Ironically, I also realised how some of those “others” were disabling me by treating me differently and placing obstacles that prevented me from expressing my full potential. And now that I have a social life, work and a purpose in life, I am realising how stupidI was to aim for a ‘normality’, for an ‘independence’ and ‘autonomy’. When, now that I reflect, no one who makes a claim to his/her normality, independence and autonomy is really aware of all the conditions that had to be in place for this life to continue.

For the miracle of life isn’t much in any extraordinary supernatural event but in the very fact that we are alive in the first place. And that our inevitable reality of interdependence and the impossibility of being independent makes me realise how much we owe to the person who makes sure we have electricity, the person who prepares the bread we eat, the tea cultivators who collect the tea leaves, the person who built my bed, and do many other people who have made this moment possible.

We may not be able to change what others think of us. We may even have little control over our environment. But we can take charge off our mind if we are willing to take the time to cultivate our awareness. Then, the question about who we are becomes irrelevant. Instead, we will start asking the right questions which only we can answer.

Endings...

Tomorrow will be the last morning at our summer house. Making the move here on the 1st July was hard. I’ve got to make new arrangements, pack my stuff and start getting used (again) to a different routine. It’s a move our family undertakes every summer. To be honest, when July approaches I know that soon I have to adapt to our summer house with all the good and bad things it brings into my life.

I think that part of me still resists change. Especially when it means sleeping in a room that you know can never be your own. If you live in a place that is only a temporary shelter and, thus, you cannot get yourself to call it a “home”. Then comes the trouble with getting accustomed to a lifestyle that you thought was part of the past. It can be difficult, yes, to push yourself to change and adapt knowing that In a few months you’ll have to unlearn everything and return to your old life.

I suspect that we overlook how much our homes can affect who we are. Of course, it’s not just about the material environment but also about the emotional significance we attach to our homes. For, in reality, much of what makes a home a home and a house a house isn’t the furniture or structure of our residences but the memories that we associate with things and places. In this sense, we endow our homes or houses with qualities that do not exist outside our minds.

As I prepare for my last night in this house, I realise that it’s not only my reluctance to change that was the problem. After all, during my short lifetime, I have had to make changes and adapt to new environments and accept the fact that I may have to be admitted for a number of days at the hospital. In a way, I got to live like a nomad - travelling to our summer house when the weather gets hot and packing for hospital when my body goes on a health strike. Indeed, my reluctance to move was rooted in the days I spent as a child at this house where I had to spend the summer without television or my comforts at home.

In retrospect, it was perhaps in this very house where my oldest brother David died, that I started reflecting on life and own mortality. It was here that I tasted what it’s like to play on the streets with other children around my neighbourhood. It was also here the conservative Catholic priests preaching about sin and how impairment was the product of sin - of human’s disobedience. There was the source of my pain that appeared to erase all the good memories as I wondered whether I had a physical impairment out of divine punishment. It was then that I started to doubt and really ask myself who I was. Put in that light, my childhood negative experiences have helped me to be who I am today.

Yes, this is an ending to a stay that I believed I didn’t want but which now appears I much needed. Tomorrow I should be back at my old home. But I learned a lot after reflecting on my experiences at this summer house. I believed that when it this day would come. I would be free. Yet, there’s a lingering sadness that there is an ending here. On the other hand, I am also reminded of the fact that my life and that of others is very much like a nomadic journey. While I knew when my particular journey will end and start, I still had to prepare for the next trip. The only difference is that life can end at any minute and while it’s good to make plans for the future, we can’t live for the future.

Besides, an ending also marks a new beginning. The beginning of a new life which is in itself always ending and beginning all the time. Perhaps it’s also a good opportunity to start calling my “summer house”, my “summer home”. It’s a change of words, I know, and the building hasn’t changed structurally. But, in some respect, it has changed on a radical level.

In my mind!