Tag: human revolution

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On Reading and Pondering Deeply

Second Sokkai Gakkai president Josei Toda urged young people to read good books and to ponder things deeply. Even though Toda died in 1958, this advice is relevant today and is great encouragement for everyone. And, in fact, is a way to stay youthful despite your physical age.

What makes a book “good” to begin with? Is it informative? Inspirational? Energizing? Does it make you see things differently? Laugh? Perhaps good books do all of these things. Perhaps something else entirely.

books-158066_640A good book enriches me. It nourishes me in some way. A good books speaks to me, even if it’s a psychological thriller with a love story at its center.

A good book is not only worth reading, it is worth rereading. You come to it again to unlock new lessons, discover new images, uncover subtle nuances. It may touch you differently because of who you are this year, or what happened to you last season. Or because you’re finally ready to deal with that twenty-year old trauma. But sometimes you just want to check in on your favorite characters and reminisce about old times.

As for pondering deeply, many  refuse ponder at all, much less deeply. Social media platforms are filled with incoherent ramblings from knee-jerk reactions to hearsay. Some who claim to have researched a hot-button issue have limited their reading to the title of click-bait, which is designed to be sensational rather than informative.

Pondering is slow. Much slower than the skim-swipe-share culture of today. It requires one to engage with one’s brain and with a variety of ideas.

Pondering is dialogue, not declaration.

It is inquiry rather than assumption.

It is research and reflection, not regurgitation.

I wonder if in 2015 we can slow down, read good books and ponder things deeply. Let’s engage each other in conversations (on social media and in real life) grounded in wisdom, thoughtfulness, and respect for diverse views.

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Free Your Mind Friday

“Why oh why must it be this way
Before you can read me you gotta
Learn how to see me, I said
Free your mind and the rest will follow”

This song is on repeat in my brain.

I can’t point to a reason why, but I’ve found myself thinking, saying and writing free your mind all this week. Maybe it’s because I’m reading Assata. Or because I’m being more intentional about nurturing my passion. Perhaps it’s a divine message requiring meditation and integration because I’ve spend too much time thinking inside the box.

Sometimes think boxes are okay. They’re predictable. Comfortable. You know the boundaries. You understand the rules. But I’ve always been a tad bit claustrophobic, and if we’re being honest, comfort doesn’t alway suit me. Thinking through new ideas, adopting new ways of being – these things are energizing and inspiring.

Freeing.

I’m releasing or refining habits and practices I’ve outgrown and adopting new ones. I’m continuing my daily writing through journals and morning pages, and trying out a new approach to storytelling. I abandoned plyometrics for the winter and tried a new combination of yoga and Pilates to challenge my body in new ways. These and other things I’m doing in an effort to truly build my temple, evolve, and be free.

My Whiskey, Wine & Moonshine co-hosts and I had an interesting conversation about self-checks and the power of habit. As we enter week 2 of 2015, what are some projects you’re embracing? What are you discarding? How do you know when it’s time to release and refresh?

Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear from you.

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Winding down and firing up

Wrote Zora Neale Hurston, “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” There are also years that break your heart and years that fill them. And some years are simply a rollercoaster of questions, answers, exclamations, proclamations, numbness, anger, heartache and love.

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The kiddos, Blue and me. #blendedfamily

2014 was one of those years.

It bore witness the passing of beloved icons, the reclamation of beauty, horrific brutality and engaging art. Just everything. In the midst of the collective tragedies and celebrations, I enjoyed my own milestones and joy-filled events.

This year flew by. They say the older you get, the more quickly time seems to pass. I’m not sure when or if the trend reverses, but I do know I’m finding it difficult to grasp the end of this calendar year and the beginning of the next.

Compared to the recent past, I’ve probably spent the least amount of time on social media this year. I’ve blogged a little less, tweeted a lot less, and at various intervals, I removed Facebook from my phone entirely. That said, for my 40th birthday, I merged my old domain name and my blog into a new virtual space. A few folks stopped by and took a look around. Some posts resonated:

  1. In one, I weave my wedding story with my daddy’s memorial.
  2. In another, I challenge critics to be more discerning – more critical, in fact – of artifacts presented on the Internet.
  3. In the third most popular post of the year, Tayari invited me to share a little bit about my writing process.

A couple of entries from my older blog made the rounds as well. Folks liked reading about being powerful and feminine (yes, simultaneously), wearing dresses, and FAMU president Dr. Elmira Mangum’s contract battle.

10366286_10153000978792780_6992355837704246348_nAs we go into the new year I’m re-imagining this space and the stories I want to tell here. In truth, I’ll always do that. What is living, really, if it doesn’t include evolution, revolution, growth, change?

In many respects, 2014 was a foundational year for me. But current events have me in feisty, fiery mood. Not angry, but more awake. Spirited. Inspired. Quite honestly, I’m looking forward to the fireworks.

I’m wishing you a year of evolution, righteous victory and overwhelming joy.

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The Caring Community | #30in30 #WriteLikeCrazy.

As a new abolitionist, I often imagine the reasons people might oppose abolition. I hear all the why nots they silently levy. I compose responses to these imaginary rebukes, and in so doing, I look to established abolitionists for guidance.

In Instead of Prisons, the authors note several questions abolitionists confront. Two stand out:

  • What do we do about those who pose “a danger” to society? Don’t we have to solve that problem before we can advocate the abolition of prisons?
  • How can we work for needed prison reforms which require structural change within the society, before a new social order comes about?

Two assumptions seem to underlie these questions. Firstly, we can only work on one thing at a time, and after the attainment of a perfect solution, can we attempt something else. Secondly, abolitionists advocate a thoughtless and rash process by which prisons are torn down and people run, pell-mell, to freedom.

Both of these ideas are false. As explained in the attrition model, abolition is a long-term goal with several allied processes:

  • gradually reduce the current inmate population beginning with extreme sentences,
  • reconsider criminality and decriminalize certain behaviors, and
  • develop alternatives to imprisonment (mental health treatment, substance abuse treatment, etc.).

There is little in this explanation about the human rights issues prisoners face. This is purposeful. The abolitionist’s goal is not simply to make prison more humane, but to stop caging except when there is absolutely no viable alternative. I want to state clearly, 2.3 million people behind bars should not suffer cruel and unusual punishment. And I do not see a conflict between supporting human rights and working to abolish prisons. However:

Our goal is to replace prison, not improve it.

But one does not dismantle a prison system without a corresponding change in the societal status quo. Society is as sick as the individuals who often wind up exiled from it. That brings us to a topic of personal import: creating a caring community. Drawing from my Buddhist leanings, I believe this to be the most difficult and simultaneously most important part of a successful abolition strategy.

From the handbook:

Abolitionists advocate maximum amounts of caring for all people (including the victims of crime) and minimum intervention in the lives of all people, including lawbreakers. In the minds of some, this may pose a paradox, but not for us, because we examine the underlying causes of crime and seek new responses to build a safer community. The abolitionist ideology is based on economic and social justice for all, concern for all victims, and reconciliation within a caring community.

How do we begin to create a caring community? Is such a utopia possible?