Holy Curiosity

A Calling to Young Folx to Stay Curious

Wonder Mandala

“Never lose a holy curiosity” Albert Einstein

You rarely hear curiosity described as holy. In fact, we don’t seem to value it much. We prefer to “Know” stuff, absolutely. It seems to me we hold answers in far more esteem than we do questions. Think about it – we say curiosity killed the cat. There’s the myth of Pandora, who just wanted to see what was inside a mysterious forbidden box, I mean, who wouldn’t, right? But we say she unleashed the evils of the world because she couldn’t mind her own beeswax.  We tell kids not to be too nosy, to quit snooping. We lose patience with toddlers who constantly ask why. I’m guilty of it myself, and I am sorry. Because I want all young folks to wonder, to ponder, to explore even if crabby old Boomers like me get cross with you. At heart, I am with old Albert Einstein on this, curiosity is holy. Curiosity is one of the most powerful forces of humanity and it may be one of the good graces that saves us. And let’s face it, humanity needs all the help it can get if we are going to change the trajectory we’re on. 

Please pursue the questions and interests that capture your attention. The conundrums that send you on peculiar journeys. The questions that call to you on the edges of sleep. The ideas that tickle your fancy and make you lose track of time. All the great, world-changing discoveries came from curious people.

For example, JJ Thompson, a 19th-century physicist, who I’m sure was constantly scolded by parents and teachers to quit farting around, discovered that electrons had a negative charge and that charge can be directed by magnets in a glass vacuum tube. Back then, no one cared about his discovery. In fact, JJ himself was known to propose a toast, “To the electron, may it never be of use to anybody.” Now, of course, we know his work is the foundation for all electronics and has completely altered life on Earth. 

Another holy curious person is a young man by the name of Richard Turere. Richard lives in Kenya and is a member of the Maasai people. They herd cattle on the edge of the Namibian National Wildlife Refuge. So, there are wild animals all around the land where they raise cows and goats. It is the job of the boys between the ages of 9 and 13 to protect the herd from lions and other predators that come seeking an easy meal. A few years ago, when Richard was ten, the lions became very active in his community at night. They were picking off cattle left and right. Richard knew he had a problem to solve. At first, he thought fire would scare them off. So, he set up torches around the cattle yard. However soon he found the light from the fire only helped the lions. Next, he wondered if a scarecrow would work? And it did until the lions figured out it couldn’t move. Then one night as Richard was looking around with his flashlight for anything that might help, he noticed that the lions didn’t come. He wondered, what if the light moves? And because he liked to take apart and tinker with radios and all sorts of other electronics which made his mother furious but would have made JJ Thompson proud, he figured out a way to set up a solar panel, attach it to a battery,  and wire it to several lights around the pen.  He connected this circuit to a signal box that programmed the lights to flash outward at different intervals, in a sense, to move. The lions never came back. Richard rigged similar systems now known as “Lion Lights” for others in his community. He saved the lives not only of countless cows but also the lions because before he found this peaceful and cheap solution the Maasai warriors would hunt and kill the lions who claimed their livestock. Think about it; all of this came from a 5th grader. Someone like you, who questioned, took things apart, experimented and puttered around even though the adults in his life yelled at him about it. 

Now you don’t just have to be curious about how things work or sciency stuff. You can also be curious about people. We need that too! We need humans that wonder about how each of us endures. We need inquisitive minds willing to listen and witness without judgment or advice. We need people who are enthralled by other cultures or how governments and systems work. We need readers and writers to wonder how stories turn out, how our collective story will turn out. We need seekers daring enough to go deep into the interior of their own souls. We need thinkers to ask big questions that they may never be able to answer. We need adventurers with the courage to say, “I don’t know, but I am willing to try.” We need minds and hearts with the passion and commitment to explore new ideas and allow them the time to reveal whatever marvels come next. 

I especially want to encourage all my girls out there to follow the wondering and wanderings of their souls; Like Amelia Earhart or Bessie Coleman, I want you to explore what lies over the next horizon. Or be like Silvia Earle and dive deep into the depths of the Oceans. Follow the footsteps of Jane Goodall into the wild unknown. I want you to ask yourself, like Wankari or Greta, “What can I do to save the planet?” Then, witness whatever answers come to you made manifest. I want you to stand up for your rights as a person no matter the consequences, like Mulala. I want you to look with new eyes and bring those visions to the rest of us like Dorthea Lange or paint your dreams,  like Frida Khalo. I want you to build new worlds out of your own imagination like Octavia Butler or JK Rowling; Share your insight into the human heart and the limits it can endure like Alica Walker, or make meaningful, luminous poetry out of the natural world we have been given like Mary Oliver. 

The poet Alistar Reid said, “Only the curious – if they live – have a tale worth telling all.” I want all young humans of all genders, to have a tale worth telling, full of unanswered questions, mysteries that grab you by the guts and wake you in the night, sneak attacks of wonder and awe, unsolvable riddles and puzzles with missing pieces. I want you to journey to the outlands or outer space. I want you to explore the deep, dark, mystical interiors of the world and yourself. In short, I want your life’s tale to be epic! So please, stay holy curious!

Gone

Introspective
From Introspective by Sophie Ryder in Meijer Gardens 

Gone

This morning
the wasps nest
in the center of my porch
that required courage
and presence
when I left
when I returned
was gone
vanished utterly
as if the well anchored hive
and all of the hubbub
never existed
and I miss them
and am sorry
I wonder what
mighty coated being
carried it off
to enjoy the delicious
meats inside
or perhaps
the collective swarm
gathered their strength
and lifted
their home
from mine
to somewhere
less disturbing
to them.

Fierce

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Wretched by: Piers Nye

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

— Jellaludin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks

It astonishes me how terrified Western culture is of strong emotions. Even little children are aware of this and use it to their advantage. Note, the next time you see a child throwing a temper tantrum near the impulse buys of any major store and the panicked, pissed off, or apologetic reaction of their adult in charge.

As an educator I’ve noticed that most bullying is directed toward students who have intense feelings and are unable to hide their reactions. And, it bothers me that the general rule of thumb in advising these victims, is to blame them for their vulnerability. As if authenticity were a weakness. As if this were a lesson they should have learned and embodied when they were in preschool. Because the sad truth is that most of us have learned and embodied the lesson that we need to conceal or tamp down our feelings in preschool. Not channel them. Not hold them. But bury or swallow or mask them into something the general public can tolerate.

Fierce vulnerability is alluring. To be emotionally open and available is also to be in a permanent state of rebellion. Well, anger is acceptable. But only if you are white and male. The only place where strong emotions are tolerated in our society is in the field of sports. And then, only if you or your team wins.

Mind you, I am not only referring to the challenging emotions. Show a bit too much bliss and you open yourself to ridicule as well. Normalcy, particularly in the USA, is a state of neutrality to the point of indifference.

A dear friend with an impassioned nature was told over and over again as a child to “Tone it down!” Her immense joy was as intolerable to her family and community as her profound sadness, righteous rage,  or deep empathy. Phrases like, “Suck it up, buttercup,” or “I’ll give you something to cry about,” were frequently hurled at her. She became, in her adult youth, a fathomless well of projection to all who entered her orbit, glorified and vilified in turn for her emotional truth.

It so happens that she was also a spiritual seeker. She left her Catholic upbringing and studied Eastern religion with the misguided notion that meditation would fix her intensity issues. Meditation and constant striving would provide her with the illusive off switch that would make her more palatable. Worthy. This, of course, backfired. Spectacularly. And thank goodness!

This woman, and all the strong women in my life that I so admire, are grounded in their boundless openness. They trust in their thrashing about. They are able to let the storms roll and let them pass. They do not bow to the tyranny of positive thinking. They are enlightened but also endarkened. Balanced. Brave. Holding gently. Releasing with gratitude.

Cocomotion

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.” Martha Graham

Chef

I’ve learned a lot from watching cooking shows. More than simply how to cook, that is. There are so many reasons I’m drawn to them. I enjoy watching people use their hands. Most especially to create or build or fix or heal. All four of which are a part of preparing a good meal.

Great chefs understand that cooking is soul work. Sure, there are some ornery bastards. Some colossal egos. Tempers flare. I’ve never known any creative area where these issues didn’t arise. More often, what amazes me about the community of chefs is the way they collaborate. And while they may be highly critical, most also seem willing to submit their own cooking to the same scrutiny.

Cooking is hard work; busy, relentless, and consuming. You have to maintain your health, keep your energy levels high, and commit your whole self to the process.

Master chefs have a devotion to growth, learning, experimentation, and change. They fail and head right back to the pantry. It seems that each of them had a devastating setback in their lives; a fire, cancer, bankruptcy, a second fire; and yet, they persist. In fact, most chefs mark these traumatic events, that might have taken the heart of others, as a catalyst for transformation. You could say that they discovered their unique genius only after, or because of, a personal catastrophe.

Lately, an acute attention and appreciation for the local environment play a key role in fine cuisine. I deeply admire the move to incorporate not only local farms and produce, but to explore and forage, with respect and restraint, our seas, meadows, and forests. The artistry with which they incorporate these natural elements is, often times, astonishing. It also strikes me as ancient and witchy.

Cooking is an intriguing mix of science, art, skill, and attention. An alchemy of the senses. But, a crucial, though often unnamed component of cooking is time. Time and I are often at odds. Usually this is when I am ruminating on the past, or anxious about the future, or freaking out because it is passing so doggone quickly. Never is this more apparent than when I try to make an egg. I know first hand why this is the magical test of most chefs. You have to have ALLLLL your shit together to prepare a proper egg. And then it is a focused dance for the following three minutes or so. Artists create egg dishes with effortless elegance and keep a tidy kitchen, to boot. Not so in my kitchen.

The Zen Buddhist nun, Jeong Kwan, uses time expertly in preparing her temple food. Kimchi is created and harvested precisely when most nutritious and delicious. She plans and prepares healing vegan meals according to the seasons and cycles of her temple surroundings.  She then presents them with exquisite artistry.  We could all learn from her generous, humble offering.

In one way or another, I see great chefs as examples of mindful living. They are beholden to the gifts bestowed in their home place and as interpreted through the work of their senses, imagination, and hands. This is a calling. A calling that all of us have the opportunity to answer and practice on a daily basis. We can demonstrate our love for others and this beautiful, bountiful world by cooking healthy, tasty, well planned and attentively prepared food.

Chef
One of my favorite chefs as photographed by: John Hardwick

Humans

Please enjoy these images and quotes about the beauty of human diversity.

Wormland

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Photo by: MagsblackDetroit

Let me be clear, I wanted, still want, most of my spiritual teachers to be women. Preferably women who lived lives of struggle and significance and came out the other side with something to tell about. And indeed many of the finest writings, the most significant stories, that get to deepest places of my soul are by these powerful women. I’ve long resented the lesser role women have in religious life and the fact that there are so few who enjoy the spiritual gravitas bestowed on men. Lots of men. So, it was with great reluctance that Stephan Pende Wormland, a white guy, a German no less, Tibetan Buddhist former monk, found his way into my heart.

I am not a Tibetan Buddhist. Despite this statement, The Dali Lama has provided me with the closest definition of my abiding philosophy,  “Loving kindness is my religion.” It is that simple and that difficult.

But back to Mr. Wormland and why and how he became a force in my life even though I never met him and was conflicted about his maleness, his German heritage, and his patriarchal religious affiliation.  I learned of him through the Insight Meditation Timer App which I highly recommend. I liked his guided meditation so much that I decided to look him up online. Turns out, he offers his teachings and guided meditations for free all over the web. You can listen and download them on SoundCloud. Or, why not sit in on retreat on YouTube? Mindful Dreaming makes a great jumping off spot.

Life is full of surprises. These disruptions can be our greatest instructors. Many experiences, many people, many moments, will go into the distillation of my true self. And so I have learned, it is good to examine my biases and open up.

Full disclosure, I am not disciplined enough to watch or listen to everything Stephan Pende Wormland offers. But, I return to his guided meditations regularly. There is something about his pacing, his voice, and his use of imagery and metaphor that resonates. Like most Tibetan Buddhists I’ve met, he has a great sense of humor too. The clarity of the audio makes you feel as if you are in his retreat loft in Copenhagen.  Actually, I don’t know if he has a loft but I imagine the space to be large and open and several floors up from the street. So that, in the silent spaces between words you hear the canals, the footfalls, and church bells in the distance.

Matters

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Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God. ~Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

In the end, just three things matter:
How well we lived
How well we loved
How well we learned to let go
~Jack Kornfield

Most of what truly matters in life surpasses both my understanding and ability to put into words. Nevertheless, I will try.

Let me start simply by clarifying that when I write of matters I mean the verb; to be of importance or significance. I am also going to try to step away from politics, although they certainly are of significance. And, I acknowledge it is the circumstances of my privileged birth that even allows me to look at other things that matter. This would be a very different post if I were born poor and black and living in say, Flint, Michigan.

So, of course, there are crucial matters for our body’s survival: clear air, clean water, pure lands to grow nourishing food and provide warmth and shelter.

There are matters vital for the mind to endure. Sure, there are! Everyone needs a sense of safety, a feeling of belonging, the ability to perceive and learn, a moral code, an absence of pain, love.

Human rights, the rights of the planet and all its incredible, diverse, interconnected beings matter. Beyond reckoning.

But once our basic needs are met, what matters then?

I confess, I have never been a traditional matterer. By that I mean, appearances aren’t a big deal with me. My own or anyone else’s. I care there be evidence of grooming effort. Beyond that, express yourself, or not, by your own funky fresh style. It matters, not.

Money never really mattered all that much either. Although I am wise enough to know that this is  because I have always had enough, even in the skimpy days. And that is a blessing.

It doesn’t matter if your house is clean or messy but how you walk the Earth. The impact you leave. Not measured by others. But by that still, small voice inside.

Quieting every other noise and listening for that voice, that awareness, that has always been with you throughout your many selves and all the things that mattered to them, that is what matters. That voice will gently coax away your vanity. That silent witness will point you toward grace and simplicity and balance. That true self will endlessly instruct you in gratitude for what is given. That soundless messenger knows your particular and perhaps “peculiar travel instructions.” Breathe. Practice. Listen with all your senses. Whenever you can.  This, I believe, is what matters.

 

 

Note

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…to my younger self

Your life will turn out nothing like you planned. Yet it will be grander than you ever imagined. You will love well and be loved better.

It is true that everything your heart desires lies on the other side of fear. Inside that fear is lost power you will reclaim when you face it, beautiful and brave. Make it so.

Don’t give a tiny rat’s behind what anyone else thinks or says about you. It is wasted time and energy on something you cannot control.

I forgive you for everything. Even the stuff you never told anyone but the dark.

Trust your guts! Nurture your instincts. They will save you from some very sketchy situations..

Study Kung Fu instead of learning to smoke. This is a no brainer.

Listen.

The greatest love of your life will come as a total surprise. She will be your best friend and greatest teacher. Yes, that is right, she, not he. You are queer. But then, if you listened to your guts, you knew that.

I know you worry about putting your parents through a spiritual crisis by coming out. Come out anyway. They survive. Loving you for your entire self, activates them to become warriors for peace, justice, and diversity. The pain from which you all emerge transforms into meaningful work, lasting friendships, and the spreading of light to countless other families.

The most profound moments of your life will unfold in solitude.

You are worthy. Don’t overcompensate. Your faults and frailties are no worse than anyone else’s. Do your best to replace the words “I’m sorry…” with “Thank you for…”  wherever and whenever you can remember.

Keep writing. Burn what doesn’t work. Burn what does. It is the process that matters.

Travel.

Whatever worries or expectations you have, let them go. You will live the most ridiculously lucky, rich life full of love and laughter and pleasures and meaningful work and stories and poems and music and good souls. While I am age 51 writing this to you, which probably seems ancient to you, I hope I am only at the midpoint of this existence. But, even if today is our last, we can drop this body, release this awareness, and know we were blessed.

Endless

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Photo by MagsBlackDetroit

When discussing the fate of the world recently I made the statement that human beings will never run out of problems. I think my friends mistook this for a negative Nelly, Eeyore-esque  moment when in actuality, I meant it rather hopefully. Problems are problems. They aren’t good or bad. They are puzzles. Conundrums. Challenges. Reasons to grow.

Deepak Chopra describes happiness as “Divine discontent.” If you haven’t viewed his Metaphysical Milkshake Soul Pancake interview with Raine Wilson, you simply must. It’s deep and hilarious! The gist of his very succinct wisdom-pearl is that as long as we have discontent and the creative impulse we will be happy. Seeking, building, creating, solving problems are crucial to our vitality. Without them, bliss becomes feckless lunacy. Now don’t get me wrong, I am all for feckless lunacy but only in moderation.

There is another video circulating now with a Rabbi talking about lobsters. Is that kosher? Anyway, he says that the lobsters grow because of discomfort. It becomes uncomfortable in it’s shell. It hides under rocks, loses the old shell, and grows a new and larger one. The basic parable here is without pain and discomfort no one grows.

In race relations and diversity work, all of my mentors espouse the philosophy that you must get comfortable being uncomfortable. The only way to bridge our differences is to jump into the mess and start to dogpaddle.

I do believe the world is getting better, even if we still have a looooong way to go and the pendulum has recently begun to swing erratically. Personally, I wouldn’t want to live in any other time in human history no matter how pretty the dresses were.

Problems and solutions are in a perpetual spiral dance. Answers beget new and different questions. This is the cycle in which awareness evolves. And I do believe consciousness is expanding despite the current state of world affairs. This is not to deny that great sorrows exist. Unfathomable tragedies. Dark forces. But, that alongside those things, or even, perhaps within them, great works of heart and mind are also happening. Heroic sacrifices. Sisyphean efforts. Great awakenings of the everyperson’s Jedi nature.

Really, I am more like Pooh and less like Eeyore: Ever in search of honey. In love with our hundred acre wood. Trusting in the kindness and ingenuity of friends to overcome today’s pickles and predicaments.

We will survive this episode. Just as we have overcome every snafu throughout human history. And then new problems will come along. The band plays on. The dance of divine discontent continues. Hopefully.

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Photo by MagsblackDetroit