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The hardest punch I ever took in martial arts sparring was not delivered by a fist.
It was at a weeklong ninjutsu workshop, on the very last day. The instructor was walking us through the basic kata, from earth all the way through air. We were at the air kata, which in ninjutsu is the kata associated with the heart and with circular movements. Like the previous kata, we were to do the basic form but without kicks and punches, only with angry energy and a wagging finger on the part of the aggressor and an appropriate emotional response and movement by the receiver. For air, the receiver was to smile, raise his or her hands in a gesture of peace or surrender, and spin out of the way of the wagging finger, all while consciously feeling love for the aggressor. Like the previous kata, when it was my time to attack I mustered my best angry act, and thrust my finger out. And it felt like a slap on the face.
It wasn't just me or my sparring partner. I saw a lot of my fellow students looking as if they had just had the wind knocked out of them, and I spoke with some of them afterward about their experience of the exercise. I had known of and used the power of love in political conflicts before that, but I hadn't expected the silly little exercise would have such a visceral effect.
Fast-forward to today. I was talking to a friend who was thinking about all the possible things that could happen if someone who had wronged her decided to further harm her. Finally, I had to point out to her how much she was fearing that person. Initially she objected, until I said that I didn't mean adrenaline fear, I meant cognitive fear, focusing her attention towards that person solely on the potential of the individual to do more harm, and plotting responses to each contingency. I suggested instead that she try using compassion. I wasn't suggesting this from the point of view of hearts and flowers and teddy bears, but rather because if she was in a fight, I thought she should arm herself with her best punch.
Compassion is a two-edged sword. On the one hand it warmly invites would-be enemies to lay down their arms -- indeed, to never pick them up in the first place -- and join with you, their friend. On the other hand no other approach so ferociously turns the attack of an enemy against itself (in fact I keep a genuine two-edged sword for that very reason, as a symbol and reminder).
Also today, I read a thread in GD where a Christian spoke about how the Christianity of the Bible was diametrically opposed to the Christianity of the far right. Some of the responses were favorable. Others were angry denunciations of all things religious or spiritual, and still others complained that the author's religion was privileged, and it oppressed their own minority religion. Nothing especially unusual, I know, for GD.
The confluence of these two events reminded me of something that sits like a leaden overcast over ASAH. ASAH was created out of , and continues to live, in fear. Fear of the atheists, fear of the skeptics, fear of every species and subspecies of DU woo-watcher. Early on, someone here even tried to recruit me to go argue with the atheists, figuring I might score some points for the woo-riors since I had been an atheist myself.
And so I'm proposing a different approach, to anyone here in the mood for adventure (I'm not a cat herder, and don't expect to become one, and so I'm not delusionally proposing some mandatory ASAH policy). That suggestion is to go fight with the atheists armed with your best punch.
That doesn't mean go with a feigned smile on your face and saccharine words, intending to sell your ideas with apparent kindness. Those are the skills of used car salesmen, not your best punch. Go to the combative areas of DU, seek out your enemy, ask to learn from them, and mean it. Listen carefully what they have to say. Follow through diligently in reading suggested links. Ask sincere followup questions. Even ask them what you, as a nonnonbeliever (what a word there) can do to not offend them as much. Don't pretend to be someone you're not, and don't try to hide your opinions (also don't take advice that you would least offend them by studying to become your own rectoscope), but do try to learn something from them. If this sounds altogether too hard to do from skeptics, think of them instead as students of "reason yoga"-- that is, in essence, what they are. And while none of us here might be interested in becoming a devotee of Sri Guru Randi (whose practices may seem dubious and whose followers may seem a bit cultlike), who among us can say we have mastered every aspect of rationality and can learn nothing more of it?
What could come of this? One possibility is that you'll gain some skeptic friends, and some skeptics will learn to talk about their friends in the woo.
But what if that doesn't happen? What if They don't want to be friends? What if They act mean and nasty and reinforce every reason you ever had to fear Them? Then you win. They will get overwrought and increasingly irrational, painfully and obviously so, as they try to get you to lose your cool so that they don't have to feel the rawness of their own state of mind coming back at them. And for every one of "them" that dances a frantic dance of bitterness and bile across your browser tab at you, one hundred lurkers will watch and think, "hmm, that skeptic guy looks crazy, I mean, really really insane. But the one they call woo -- WOW-- I wonder what makes that one tick?". If you could speed a hundred souls toward liberation by letting an internet skeptic make an ass of himself in public, while you sip your iced tea and make out a shopping list in the background, wouldn't you do it? ;) (Why do I feel that an article is crying out to be written about how the internet is weakening traditional bodhisattva/grass community bonds?)
Of course other things could happen. After a little while you could get bored and lose interest in any of this (as well as any fear of those boring people). Or you could learn some things and change your mind about a few things. You could even be persuaded of the truth of rationalism and materialism, in which case I say congratulations in finding a practice that speaks to your needs at this time. Or, after all the dust settles on your adventure, you will have found within yourself a deeper capacity to love.
As I said I am not a cat herder and don't want to be one. A lot of us barely have time for this forum let alone any multi-forum adventures. Some of us know we're not in the right state of mind or body (perhaps we're ill) to be able to keep our cool. Some of us never had any interest in any battling with anyone about anything, not even to fear such battles, and find this "adventure" to be excruciatingly boring on the face of it. Some might object that they've been hurt so many times throughout their lives that they simply cannot take any more pain, and that's fine too. Compassion will still be there waiting for them whenever they are ready to learn to give as good a punch as they get. And still others have a very good reason to avoid this even if they can't put their finger on it: love isn't just a two edged sword, it's a two-pointed one. It has a way not only of turning back the attacks of your enemies, but of inviting one's own aggression to get under one's skin. There's hundreds, if not thousands, of reasons who someone ought not take up this suggestion at this time.
In the interest in full disclosure, I'm not sure whether I'll take up my own suggestion because, frankly, I'm not sure "they" isn't me. I still identify with much of freethought, to the point where I might as well fit in there, were it not that I've come down with a mild case of the woo. On balance I find it easier to come here and stay out of the topics I consider dubious, than to hang out there and pass my touch of the woo off as hot flashes and a dust mite allergy, though I've only rarely had issues with skeptics and atheists online (well, actually, I do have a few, but those issues are less about skepticism than about a few people with an ulterior motive trying to spread deliberate lies under the banner of "skepticism").
I make this proposal not in the spirit of the season. Sure, this is the season of "peace on earth" and "goodwill to men" (and, I imagine, "Salvation Army to women", or something like that). But anything worth doing on December 20th, 21st, or the 25th is equally worth doing on March 14th or August 10th or June 28th or February 11th (scratch that: don't go sledding on August 10th or June 28th), and do-gooders who do good precisely one week out of fifty two irritate me. I've made this proposal now because I've been freshly reminded why the fear I sometimes see here is unfortunate.
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