It's rather disturbing to channel-surf these days. Death and destruction in New Orleans - (click) - cheering crowds at the US Open - (click) - 750 missing children - (click) - Comedy Central - (click) - homeless, starving pets trapped up in trees - (click) - mindless reality TV show...
I wasn't planning to blog about Katrina as so many other people are talking about it, but writing about marketing feels a bit disrespectful. I'll get around to it soon, but it's odd to notice how life goes on. I guiltily confess to a sigh of relief when I can change the channel to see people running, laughing, cheering. I’m horrified by the images of Louisiana and Mississippi, yet I can simply push a button and tune into a different reality that’s not so disturbing. I’m relieved by the illusions that life goes on, my comfort zone still appears intact, and I'm in control of my life.
When
we humans connect with the harsh reality of disaster, hints of our own
mortality and frailty slosh over the carefully constructed levees of our souls.
Talk about discomfort! So we do our duty and write a check to Red Cross, or
donate some clothing, then quickly get back to our daily responsibilities,
passions and irritations… back to “life as usual.” It was distressing to me to
realize that I'd completely forgotten about the tsunami on the other side of
the world. Their lives are surely still in utter turmoil and uncertainty, yet
it's no longer news.
I've been reading a book called Wake
Up to Your Life by Ken McLeod. It's an instruction manual for developing
mindful attention according to Buddhist principles. The chapter I finished last
night was about death meditation.
"We will die one day. That much is certain. When and how, no one can tell. If we are vividly aware that death can come at any time, however, our attention goes into the actual experience of life, not into the effort to achieve fame or fortune....
Living in the knowledge that every relationship we have is going to end, we take nothing or granted and savor every moment with our spouse, parents, or children. Meditating on death and impermanence frees us from the conditioning of culture, society and upbringing and brings us closer to life, closer to the mystery of being."
Katrina, the tsunami, terrorism in New York, a friend diagnosed with cancer, an abused child... these are the sloppy realities of life and death. They intrude upon notions of "the way things should be." They rudely contradict notions of fairness and invincibility. And they happen all the time. We can choose how we're going to react, and whether we'll allow these events to soften us, make us more pliable, more accepting of the fact that shit happens whether we like it or not. And then we begin to see that it's not shit, it's just life. It is what it is. Buddhists meditate on death and impermanence in order to embrace life in all its manifestations, and thus be fully alive.
One of my favorite quotes is from Buddha: "Suffering is wishing things are other than they are." And even though I remind myself of this quote all the time, I still get so hung up on “what’s right” and “what should be” and how people “should act.” We’re so indignant about what the government “should have done” to alleviate the suffering. But what happened, happened. People are short-sighted. People let us down. People fail our expectations. It’s all part of this reality that flows onwards whether we think it “should” or not. We may try to do things better next time, but others won’t even make an attempt. That’s just the way it is. I don’t mean to sound callous about what’s happened; it’s just that I suddenly saw things very clearly this past week... that humans aren’t all that logical, despite all our illusions and wishful thinking, and it’s rather pointless to insist that they be.
I suppose our challenge in Katrina's aftermath -- aside from doing something to help those who now have nothing -- is to choose whether we'll wake up to life as it really is, or simply continue business as usual while secretly refusing to acknowledge that our own lives are just as fragile, that we make mistakes, that we’ll have the rug pulled out from under us again and again, that we’ll get our indignant sense of rightness and righteousness threatened even as we hurt others in our own way.
These
are the things we don’t like to think about. Although we know better, we keep secretly hoping that they’re the
exception rather than the rule.
Fact
is, if we don’t take our next breath, we’ll die. If we don't get hit by a car
tomorrow, or contract a fatal disease, or fall in the shower and crack our head
open, then we'll experience the slow decay of our health and mental capacity
through aging. Eventually we, and everyone we love, will die. And all the best-built
levees in your soul can’t prevent any of these things from happening.
So
we might as well think about them. We might as well acknowledge that they are a
non-negotiable part of life, and no one is exempt. Many of you reading this have had major tragedies in your life, and you know what I'm talking about. You're already too-well connected with "life as it is." I think you're light-years ahead of everyone else, including myself. I admit to living a rather sheltered life, partly on purpose. So although I use the word "we" throughout this post, I really mean "me" ... and perhaps a few others who may read this and realize that they too are sheltering themselves from what is.
I’m
starting to realize that it’s only when we open ourselves up to the good, the
bad and the ugly -- acknowledging that it’s all the stuff of life -- that we
can experience real freedom. Instead of reinforcing our walls and levees in a
losing battle to keep the flood waters out, we can build a boat instead. It’s
better to float with the current rather than drown in our disappointment and
betrayed expectations. It’s better to be flexible in the wind rather than be
snapped into pieces due to our rigidity and insistence on control. It’s better to open our heart and risk
the inevitable hurt… for when we close ourselves off to selected parts of life,
we really close ourselves off to all of it.
Your post reminds me of Victor Pelevin's famous quote on the Zen way of watching TV:
First, you watch TV with sound off.
Then, you watch TV with sound on but picture off.
But masters of Zen watch TV with both picture and sound off.
Posted by: Konstantin | September 16, 2005 at 06:09 AM
Yes, support you absolutely. As marketers, we should look to the outside and contribute to the good cause whenever possible. It is really a shame to just focus on marketing and not spare a thought for those in needs. This is why I and many others online marketers have donated their advertising space to help out the Katrina victims. Perhaps you should do the same as well?
Posted by: Bryan Ong | September 14, 2005 at 12:10 AM
Glad to see you posting again. It's nice that you left the blog for a while, whether depressed or just breaking an obsession, for some this is not possible, some are hooked, lined, and sinkered, inescapable destiny: blog embedded.
Posted by: steven streight aka vaspers the grate | September 12, 2005 at 11:42 PM
Perfect. Many quote Socrates: "The unexamined life is not worth living." Few realize the importance of the flip side: "The unlived life is not worth examining." Keep living AND examining Jennifer. We've got your back.
Posted by: Tom Asacker | September 08, 2005 at 06:59 AM
jbr, I've always been changing, my journey's been long and there's no end in sight! If I'm not changing & evolving & learning on a regular basis, I might as well lay down and die... and I always appreciate others who spark new ways of looking at life.
Posted by: jennifer rice | September 08, 2005 at 06:41 AM
i do believe you are changing. reading evelyn and hugh will do that to you.
be sure to read the rules of the red rubber ball by kevin carroll. it will assist you on your journey.
also, don't turn your back on the blogosphere. it really is the most amazing place to learn some many things. i feel sorry for people that don't take the time to experience it. write when you feel like writing, but never stop reading and listening to the amazing amount of voices out there.
funny, i remember an earlier post of your's talking about a boat. may the wind be at your back and the sun in your face...
Posted by: jbr | September 07, 2005 at 08:28 PM
Jennifer, yes, yes, and yes... nothing ventured, nothing gained! write on!
Posted by: Steve Sherlock | September 07, 2005 at 03:49 PM