Down to the Valley

 

A friend sent me a short obituary of author and Buddhist environmentalist Joanna Macy. I had read some of her impressive works and could feel both the sorrow of her “ name has been erased from the roaring volume of speech" (from a Rumi poem) and the celebration that such a one graced us with her presence for 96 years. And of course, her voice will echo on in her writings and recorded talks. 

 

The obituary includes this short paragraph: 

 

Through her work and life, Joanna imparted a way of being that does not shy away from collapse, but listens for what is emergent within it. She reminds us that grief is not a failing, and that to feel sorrow for the burning world is to be awake to its beauty: “In the face of impermanence and death, it takes courage to love the things of this world and to believe that praising them is our noblest calling.”

 

 Yes, indeed. What other choice do we really have but to love and praise? Why would we choose anything else? The simple answer is that “it hurts.” It hurts to care and it hurts to lose what you care for. But I imagine it hurts far greater not to care and to pretend that loss doesn’t affect you and bury yourself in denial. 

 

At any rate, I am yet again wholly immersed in a landscape of extraordinary love, in company with 98 beautiful souls gathered from around the country and the world in this sacred spot in Carmel Valley. I witness their joy and little breakthroughs to a Self beyond the self and I habitually praise them when those moments arise. I’m also noticing the small selves people unavoidably drag with them and am noticing a more fierce determination in myself to be more present as a leader to mediate the small conflicts that inevitably arise, in defense of the connected community we are aiming to create and sustain. There is one student causing some havoc demanding that her fantasy of her spiritual needs be met at the expense of others around her and I won’t have it. We haven’t had the needed talk yet, but the challenge will be to be clear and firm about what’s acceptable while also finding something to praise so she won’t feel the need to throw her weight around. We’ll see how that goes.

 

Meanwhile, as I write, I’m remembering an old spiritual Doc Watson sings on a recording I’ve loved. The lyrics I remember are: 

 

“As I went down to the valley to pray, studying about all kinds of ways 

and who shall wear the golden crown, oh lord, show me the way. 

Oh, sinners, let’s go down, let’s go down, don’t you want to go down.

Oh, sinners, let’s go down, down to the valley to pray.”

 

Thinking about teaching this song with new words. Going down to the valley to praise. Yes, studying all the many paths to Spirit in hopes of finding one that fits our feet. And yes, we all shall wear the golden crown. No kings to obey or worship, just the realization that we are all royalty. That golden crown represents the light of the sun transposed to an earthly head and we all are worthy and capable of wearing it. And instead of sinners, that tiresome guilt-trip, let’s say singers.

 

So here we are, down in Hidden Valley in Carmel Valley, a group of royal singers studying all kinds of ways to learn to love and praise, both others and our own deep Self.

 

I think Joanna Macy would be pleased. R.I.P.