Spirit In Action

Change IS coming. WE can make it GOOD.


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Charles Eisenstein | The New and Ancient Story #41 “What Are We Greedy For?”

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I’m so grateful for all the wonderful thinkers and activists, like Charles Eisenstein who are helping to shift our world from lack to plenty; from misery to joy, from greed to generosity. It’s not always easy to shift or open up our own perspective and understanding of things. Even when we are actively seeking such change the natural tendencies of our brains can generate resistance. The talent Eisenstein has for illuminating new perspectives and ideas is phenomenal. I don’t believe it’s an exaggeration to say reading his work can often be transformative. Thank you all for all you do to shift our world to this blessed future!

ohnwentsya

What are we greedy for?

A lot of people reacted to my comment on Facebook the other day that greed is more a symptom than a cause of our current system, with all its inequities. I’m asked, What is the cause of greed? First I’ll say what I think greed is: Greed is the insatiable desire for that which one doesn’t really need, or in amounts beyond one’s needs.

When we are cut off from the fulfillment of our basic needs we seek out substitutes to temporarily ease the longing. Bereft of connection to nature, connection to community, intimacy, meaningful self-expression, ensouled dwellings and built environment, spiritual connection, and the feeling of belonging, lots of us over-consume, overeat, over-shop, and over-accumulate. How much do you need to eat, to compensate for a feeling of not belonging? How much pornography to compensate for a deficit of intimacy? How much money to compensate for a deep sense of insecurity? No amount is enough.

The causes of our separation from all these things pervade every aspect of our culture. I was just reading yesterday an article about indigenous parenting practices. The author described how children rarely cried, because their needs were consistently and immediately met: constantly held day and night, given the breast on demand until they were three or four years old, and so on. It evoked memories of my childhood – though by our cultural standards extremely loving – in which I was nonetheless alone a lot, hungry for attention. Most of us in the West spent huge amounts of time alone: alone in the hospital nursery, alone in a crib, alone in a stroller, crying to have our needs met, and eventually adapting to them not being met. We toughened up and became used to a world where there is never enough, where we have to struggle and grasp and cling for fear of loss. Even the breast, the archetypal experience of plenty, was often denied, limited, or cut off before we were ready.

Perhaps such an upbringing is necessary in our cultural context. Otherwise we go through life trusting, unguarded, soft, easily exploited. We are prepared from birth for a competitive, dog-eat-dog economy. You can see how that deeply programmed insecurity can manifest as an innate tendency toward greed. It makes greed seem like our default state, and generosity seem like a hard, contra-natural attainment.

Various aspects of our economic system reflect this programming. For example, consider usury, which I described in Sacred Economics as the lynchpin of our system. The lender is fundamentally someone who has more money than he needs right now (that’s why he has the funds to lend), but instead of saying, “I don’t need it right now, you use it,” he says, “I’ll only let you use it if I end up with even more.” It fits right in with the mentality of scarcity and control. It fits in with a life experience that has taught, “There isn’t fundamentally enough. You have to grasp for it, ensure it, control those outside of you so that they will continue to meet your needs. Because if you don’t, your needs will not be met.” Because, most of us have not had enough of the experience of our needs being effortlessly met.

This psychology of interest, writ large, forms the playing field upon which the bankers and CEO’s and pension fund managers and politicians and even the small savers operate. Certainly, some of these take the greed to appalling extremes, but even without the shenanigans of JP Morgan and Goldman Sachs, the financial imperative to convert all natural and social capital into money would continue. The megabanks and hedge funds are the cleverest and most ruthless game-players, but the result – ecocide and impoverishment – is written into the rules of the game.

When I describe the experience of early childhood, I don’t mean to simplistically blame greed on only that. All aspects of our culture conspire to strip us of our connection and belongingness. Let me name a few more:

– Religious indoctrination into self-rejection.

– Schooling the keeps children indoors, fosters competition, and accustoms them to doing things they don’t care about for the sake of external rewards.

– Hygienic ideology that fosters a fear and rejection of the world.

– Immersion in an environment composed of standardized commodities, buildings, and images.

– The alienating effects of living among inorganic shapes and right angles.

– Property rights that confine us most of the time to our homes, commercial environments, and a few parks.

– Media images that make us feel inferior and unworthy

– A surveillance state and police culture that leave us feeling untrusted and insecure.

– A debt-based financial system in which money is systemically scarce: there is never enough money to pay the debts.

– A legal culture of liability in which everyone is assumed to be a potential opponent.

– Patriarchal belief systems that oppress the inner and outer feminine, confine intimacy, and make love a transaction.

– Racial, ethnic, and national chauvinism, that makes some of our human brothers and sisters into Others.

– An ideology of nature-as-resource that cuts us off from our connectedness to other beings and leaves us feeling alone in the universe.

– Cultural deskilling that leaves us as passive, helpless consumers of experiences.

– Immersion in a world of strangers, whose faces we don’t recognize and whose stories we don’t know.

– Perhaps most importantly, a metaphysics that tells us that we are discrete, separate selves in a universe of Other.

I could name another hundred of these. They compose the water in which we have been swimming, coloring our basic conception of self and world, our basic experience of being human. By no means are they the totality of anyone’s experience. The deeper truth of interconnection, of interbeing, always breaks through in one way or another, putting the lie to the illusion of separation. And these breakthroughs will happen more and more as the world of separation crumbles.

Just now my wife walked past me and gave me the most tender kiss. In that moment I felt completely at home. Have you ever been held in an experience of intimate connection and felt your wants diminish, felt the logic of control disintegrate?

We can go to war against the greedy, but it will solve nothing. It will in fact exacerbate the problem, because it will strengthen the field of Separation, which at its basis is a war against the other, a war against nature, a war against ourselves, a war of each against all.

Instead of war, what is the systemic version of that tender kiss? What will transform the atmosphere of scarcity that we are so accustomed to that it seems like reality itself? Because the “atmosphere of scarcity” is everywhere, everything must change. Sacred Economics describes the economic dimension of that kiss in the form of a lot of nuts-and-bolts economic proposals – reversal of usury, restoration of the commons, elimination of economic rents, a universal basic income, internalization of costs, economic localization, and so on. What they have in common is that they draw from a new and ancient story that no longer holds us separate. And, they contribute to a world that no longer drives us to separateness.

But greed is a symptom of a malady far transcending economics. As the list above suggests, no aspect of our society will be untouched in the revolution of love that is underway.


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What is action? | Charles Eisenstein

One thing I love about the present time is how SO many people are aware. So many people have awakened or are in the process of doing so. Those who have been doing this for decades are no longer feeling like lone voices in the wilderness of colonized post industrial dystopian society.

So much that got me labeled as crazy, ignored, mocked, shunned etc for most of my life has now become central to global intellectual discourse. People are coming together to learn, grow and actively solve the truly huge problems facing humanity and our beautiful planet.

I’m so grateful! It’s also a novel but wonderful feeling to be a part of the zeitgeist, thinking about and discussing the same range of issues and ideas.

I bet a lot of you are also feeling this sense of amazement and relief- “I’m not alone!”. We are all facing these big problems together.

I have long appreciated Charles Eisenstein’s perspective and writing. I think his essay today is particularly relevant to the theme of Spirit In Action.

I started this blog to share my perspective that spiritual growth and political activism are both necessary but not sufficient to solve the vast mess our species currently faces.

I hoped others would appreciate the idea. I also hoped I would meet people who share this perspective, which seemed somewhat unpopular with both groups(spiritual seekers and political activists), except for Starhawk, ReClaiming Covens, a lot of Native activists, and a scattering of others from various other groups.

I believe that when enough people act decisively on both sides (ie personal/internal spiritual work along with political activism, collective action) the seemingly intractable problems of our age will rapidly become solvable.

If you search for Charles Eisenstein on this blog there is a link to his book Sacred Economics free to read online, or download. A full internet search on him should provide a veritable feast of interesting stuff.
Blessings,
ohnwentsya

What is Action?It seems that a few people misread my catalog of the “jaded activist’s” dismissals of various tactics as my own personal disapproval of those tactics. That was not my intent. I especially value the tactics that disrupt the governing stories of our society, and unravel the narratives that underlie oppression and ecocide. The point I was trying to make is that for any “action” one proposes, there is always a reason why it won’t work, why it won’t be enough, why it is a drop in the bucket, why it won’t bring deep enough change… why it is all hopeless.

Personally, of all the tactics I enumerated, I tend to favor civil disobedience and nonviolent direct action the most highly, but even petitions and orderly, permitted protest marches can sometimes be useful. Just setting the record straight here: Charles is not telling everyone to sit at home “being the change.”

On the other hand, I also want to expand the scope of what we consider to be “action.” Conditioned by the ideology of instrumental utilitarianism, which values actions according to their calculable, measurable outcomes (and which is the essential mindset of the investor), we tend to value the big visible actions more than the private, invisible ones that actually take just as much courage, or even more. For every big-name climate activist out there, there are a hundred humble people holding society together with their compassion and service. I cannot emphasize this point enough. I refuse to accept a theory of change in which the humble grandmother taking care of a terminally ill little boy is doing something less important for our future than, say, Bill McKibben.

This is one of my core beliefs: that every act sends ripples out through the matrix of causality; that every act has cosmic significance.

Yet I am not offering these small acts as substitutes for political engagement. I believe that a well-rounded person will engage on many levels, and that when the moment comes, the courage cultivated on the intimate level will translate into the courage to step in front of the riot police. Both come from the same place.

According to our personal qualities and life circumstances, different kinds of action call to us at different times. I want to expand our understanding of what “action” is, to support people in trusting this call. Because our deep mythology valorizes certain kinds of actions, we are often left with the feeling that we are not taking significant action. Furthermore, even those who attempt the actions that are most strongly validated by our dominant theory of change often feel like they aren’t doing enough. Is the state of the environment better or worse than it was 40 years ago? Is transnational finance stronger or weaker? How about the military-industrial complex? The agrochemical industry? Many activists are coming to believe that more of the same is not enough; that we need to act from a different place — and that requires inner work and interpersonal work. i think many common tactics used by environmentalists and political progressives are actually counterproductive — not because they are insufficiently clever, but because they encode some of the same deep worldview from which ecocide and oppression arise as well. I won’t go there now though.

When someone focuses on one level of service to the exclusion of the rest for too long, the result will be a growing dissatisfaction and a desire to grow. One way that growth happens is through the broadening of the scope of one’s vision: for example, to learn about the web of economic and political relationships that is driving ecocide, or to become aware of oppression within one’s own organization, or to recognize one’s own self-delusion, sanctimoniousness, or violence. As we grow, the natural object of our care grows too, and there may be a shift in what calls to us. Someone unaware of climate change isn’t going to do anything to stop climate change.

I think the discomfort that some of the commenters have expressed with the idea of sitting in retreat (and believe me, their discomfort echoes my own) comes from two sources. One is the feeling I referred to above, that “I’m not doing enough.” I’m not doing enough and I can’t do enough and perhaps if I make myself uncomfortable enough about it, I can goad myself into greater efforts. The second is the natural discomfort that arises when the time to grow, to move, to expand is upon us. I suspect I am not the only one who is in the Space Between Stories, not the only one who feels the call to deeper and more effective service. Nor am I the only one who doesn’t have a clue what that looks like. The caution I am offering (to myself mostly) is not to temporarily alleviate that discomfort by reflexively adopting familiar or prescribed kinds of action, just so I can assure myself I’m doing something. Maybe something new wants to emerge. Maybe I need to stop all this traveling and speaking. Maybe that’s getting in the way of my next step. Maybe I need to get my hands in the soil more. Maybe I need to drop my knowledge for a while and learn something radically new, which will then integrate with my old knowledge in ways I cannot imagine.