To See with Eyes Unclouded by Hate
Simple Wisdom for Difficult Times
"These days, there are angry ghosts all around us. Dead from wars, sickness, starvation, and nobody cares. So you say you're under a curse. So what. So's the whole damn world."
— Hayao Miyazaki, Princess Mononoke
Namaste Friends,
We launched ourselves into a world of uncertainty the moment in history we decided it was wise to let an elected few control the global fate. I admit that in times like ours, when our collective anticipatory grief for the world yet to come has taken desperate turns, we humans have often found some solidity in faith. Whether that faith is steeped in religious, political, or sectarian ideologies is of small consequence. Yet the seed of our faith has always manifested in ways far beyond our individual influence.
Take, for example, the juxtapositions of the medieval plague and witch hunts, the great depression and anti-semitism, Mao's cultural revolution (1966-1976) and the persecution of intellectuals, the partition of India and the separatist movements that tore the subcontinent apart, or even something as simple as Instagram's impact on mental health. Our inattentive investments in these norms have cost us much more as a collective than we could have ever fathomed.
So here I am, urging you to inspect and inquire, to observe without discrimination, without the specter of fear and judgment haunting your conclusions, without simply nodding along with someone who appeals to your sentiments and fears, to avoid hearing without truly listening, and to resist letting the five senses possess us through grotesque means. I urge you to cultivate the power to distinguish—without memory or thought—between the reality that awaits in response to our actions and the reality that lingers like a ghost of our realized fears.
We need to believe in something bigger than the design of our observable world, but that belief cannot be invested in political ideologies or sectarian views. Every division in our psyche distorts our compassion, bringing us closer to judgment, closer to scrutiny, closer to hate. Let’s ask ourselves: can we lean on the natural world instead? Can we take a deep breath and ask our garden plants and pets, speak to our early morning winged friends, or even consult the passing clouds about where to place our despair? Can we lean on one another as we inquire together into the sacredness of our belonging in this world, into what is broken and out of harmony with hate-fueled discourse?
I am tired of people who talk so much and listen so little. I have been listening—have you been listening? Are we attuned to the millions of saplings pushing through the earth while we bemoan political disappointments, or do we assume that the human world is somehow more significant? Are we naive to think the universe cares more about human existence simply because of our self-awareness?
Do we understand that what we perceive as stillness in trees is simply a difference in temporal scale? Trees operate on what scientists call "tree time"—their neural-like responses unfold over minutes or hours rather than milliseconds. When a tree responds to drought stress, it may take days to adjust its water consumption, but the complexity of this response rivals our own physiological adaptations. Trees remember past droughts, learning from environmental stress and adapting their behavior accordingly.
In their ancient wisdom, trees might hold the keys to understanding not just ecological survival, but the very nature of intelligence itself. Perhaps it’s time we listened more carefully to the whispers of our forests, rather than to the relentless noise of our politicians.
I encourage you, friends, to see with eyes unclouded by hate—to trustfall into the soothing darkness of not knowing, of community, of purposeful compassion, and the pivotal practice of silence. For it is from the great unknown that the slanted, untried path of possibility emerges, holding the true power to change the world. But if you already think you know what that path is, the cause is lost.
It takes constant practice to let go, to relinquish traditional wisdom, to surrender completely to the vast forces animating all that exists, both seen and unseen, to uncover that one possibility of harmony. This is an incredibly difficult pursuit, so if you have hope and trust in abundance, carry them along for others on this path.
Know that the Earth is sufficient, thriving with or without our help, on whatever path allows her to manifest life. She is wise enough to discard the undesirable, and her many life forms are sufficiently adept to endure times beyond our human faith. Find comfort in the fact that as long as we live with kindness in our hearts toward everything our consciousness has touched, life will go on with or without us. As long as indifference, hate-filled rhetoric, double standards, or false promises do not turn our hearts against our fellow man, as long as we can rest in nature, in silence, and in community, we will be alright.
Berkana is a non-stripe based reader-supported publication. To access archived posts and support my work, consider becoming a paid subscriber.
Send your subscriptions through PayPal.
“Are we attuned to the millions of saplings pushing through the earth while we bemoan political disappointments, or do we assume that the human world is somehow more significant?”
Beautifully said, Swarnali. May we be attuned to the saplings.
Every night this week, before and after the election, when I go for my late night walk, I extend it just a little longer than planned, even though, every night, I am very tired. I extend it because I need a little more time under the moon and stars—because I need a little more time under the care of the moon and stars. I just need to receive their care, nightly, with intention, especially this week.
And I keep wondering, how is the Earth still so generous, still so lavish with her gifts? That how is what I need to learn, deep in my bones. Thank you for putting into words the listening my body is calling me to. What a beautiful, timely meditation.