Prayer for Gaza

https://www.instagram.com/p/Cy1MZmDNB8j/ 

25 Oct 2023

Be so big that sky will learn Sky.
~ Alice Coltrane

creator god
god of abraham and moses
son of god
holy spirit
gods and goddesses of mountains and oceans
of trees and roots
rhizomatic god
gods and goddesses of wind and rain
beloved and terrifying goddess of volcanoes
destroyer and transformer
all named gods
and all unnamed gods
i call upon you
i wail and weep
across many oceans
i beseech you

make me sky
so expansive i cover all 140 square miles of gaza
a blue so dense neither cloud nor missile can penetrate
a fearless sky
so massive i absorb and dissolve all vengeance
and transform all terror

make me rain
let me wash your wounds
let me soak into parched earth
let me pour down until
ash and cinder become rivers

make me wind
hear me wail the songs
of your grandmothers
let me stroke your skin
and wrap around you like a dervish
let me lift you and carry you to safety

make me so big
that i cannot remember my own name
so big that my ancestors
become yours
let me hold your multitudes and mine

make my tears an ocean
turn my burning rage into sails
for ships that merge with stars
make horizons blur until ocean becomes sky

make me mountains
rising out of both earth and ocean
make me lava
flowing into peninsulas and islands
expanding continents
that tremble
shake
quake
rock

make me an `ōhi`a lehua tree
growing from the hardened lava
let my branches spread
and explode into succulent foliage
let my red spiky blossoms
remind you
of what is possible

make me your home
let me feed your family
knead me into bread
make me gushing spring water
let the water table
fill again and again
and again

make me empty
fill me with your stories
i will hold your dreams and nightmares
i will cradle them
and metabolize them
into fuel
to run incubators
cook dinners
and light lanterns

creator god
god of abraham and moses
son of god
holy spirit
gods and goddesses of mountains and oceans
of trees and roots
rhizomatic god
gods and goddesses of wind and rain and volcanoes
i call upon you
i beseech you

Day 30

The bombs continue to drop on Gaza, everyday more babies killed. Everyone is either practicing extreme distraction and busyness, or absolutely pummeled by grief and rage. If I give myself enough space and resource, I manage to channel some of that grief and rage into reflection, and gestures toward healing deep intergenerational wounds.

Born in 1963, I grew up steeped in systemic racism. Whether I was in Korea, Hawai`i, or New York, it was ever present. Of course I did not recognize it, nor could I name it. My immigrant parents, seeking better lives for themselves and their children, not once pointed it out. Nevertheless it permeated all institutions around me and like everyone else around me, I internalized it without realizing it.

It took me decades to see it, and learn the larger histories of coloniality and the intersecting issues of sexism, classism, ableism, and more. Then I had to go through the process of denial, confusion, rage, and finally uproot my internalized racist. Can I claim to have dismantled it completely? It’s hard to demonstrate my “correctness” when all around me coloniality still rages on, and while my subsistence entails stolen land, destructive mining in Congo, and climate disaster. But I have only just turned 60 years old, I have 3 grandchildren, and I dare not give up!

I moved to Detroit, Michigan in 2013, to take my radicalism to the next level. At that point, Detroiters were resisting a huge corporate takeover. Key neighborhoods were targeted for extreme gentrification geared toward attracting white folks with money, and displacing the generations of Black families that had been fiercely holding it down, through the rebellions, crack epidemic, foreclosure crises, and much more. Meanwhile, Detroit residents were being deprived of basic services and maintenance, including street lights, water, infrastructure updates, and even security. Sound familiar? Many were living almost like refugees in their own city, in their own nation.

When I moved into the near east side of Detroit, not only did I have to overcome the racism and anti-Blackness I had unconsciously internalized, my neighbors had to come to terms with me. Who the fuck is this “Chinese lady”? What does she want? It took months and years to build relations, friendships, and trust. I had to repeatedly demonstrate my solidarity, and prove I wasn’t a gentrifier coming to displace anyone. I had to talk to neighbors, go to block club meetings, teach free yoga classes, host potlucks, and more. My roommates and I would drive into the suburbs on Sundays to go dumpster diving at Trader Joe’s and bring back discarded flower bouquets, along with a ton of still-good food to share with neighbors. Some of my neighbors started to refer to me as the flower lady because I would bring them bouquets.

Meanwhile I’m writing this on Day 30 of the 2023 War on Gaza. More than 10,000 Gazans have been killed by bombs, and nearly half are children. 30,000 tons of explosives have been dropped, more than the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. While global citizens are pouring out in droves into the streets to demand an immediate ceasefire, the USA and Israeli governments have yet to comply. I’ve been posting on social media daily, and have my share of detractors insisting that the bombing, is in fact, the only response possible, and that if thousands of innocent civilians are dying, Hamas is to blame.

Those insisting that the bombing and killing must continue are speaking from trauma, as survivors, personally and intergenerationally. Some feel absolutely certain that Israelis will be decimated if Hamas is not destroyed, no matter how many others must die. There is no reasoning when someone is in this traumatized place; it’s not neurologically possible. If this trauma, along with grief and rage, remain untended for decades, it becomes culture, and the possibilities for healing seem ever more distant.

In the midst of this devastation, I discovered a small gem of a podcast: “Disillusioned,” by Israeli Yahav Erez. Erez interviews Israeli Jews who have somehow come to reject Zionism. Each intimate conversation delves into their upbringing, life events, and the transformation of their consciousness over years. Each story is a story of decolonization, shedding former beliefs and structures, and striving to create new stories of healing and equity.

What is the incentive for those with land to give up or change anything? All my life I had lived pretty much in middle class comfort. Why would I give even a shred of that up? My parents had sacrificed so much to provide that security and safety for us kids.

But it turns out my middle class life was not true security or safety, just as life in Israel is not safe. Disparity foments violence. It’s inevitable. And apartheid is the most extreme form of government-sanctioned disparity. At some point the pressure cooker will explode.

One Israeli Jew on “Disillusioned” described growing up in a settlement in East Jerusalem where, literally 15 meters away, her Palestinian neighbors led lives completely segregated from her. They lacked municipal services like garbage disposal, and resorted to burning their trash. Similarly, it’s been shocking for me to see stylish, colorful Tel Aviv on the news, in contrast to the crowded concentration camps of Gaza, now crumbled to gray ash and rubble.

One person on the Disillusioned podcast describes how he wanted to meet Palestinians, and build friendships and solidarity, but was frustrated to find there were no avenues to do so. Finally he realized he had to overcome his internalized fear of the Palestinian West Bank, that he had grown up with, to venture forth on his own. He describes his journey of shedding his identity, learning to be vulnerable, and realizing “If I wanted to truly meet people in an honest way, I had to shed fears I had.” He noticed that “when fears disappear, the wounds start to heal.”

This is where most of us are stuck. We cling to our identities, and surround ourselves with those like us, out of fear. Some of it may feel quite justified, and borne of generations of harm. And yet, can we open ourselves to what is possible? Otherwise, how will the wounds heal?

The Palestinians I know only want equal rights. “From the river to the sea” is not a slogan for the extermination of Jews, but rather for the opportunity to live side by side with everyone, with no check points, no apartheid, and freedom of movement throughout the one-state region. Israeli apartheid is all too reminiscent of Jim Crow laws, which followed slavery in the USA, out of fear that Black folks would vengefully decimate the white population. But it never happened, because Black folks just wanted to be free, to have equal rights.

Can we hold space for one another to air out the wounds? Can we lovingly tend them and cleanse them? Can we fathom the possibility of healing? I'd like to close with the most potent message I've seen today:

We can be strong and tender. We can be fierce and compassionate. We can be unwavering in our support for those suffering most, while holding space for each of us to heal our trauma. All of us heal, or none of us heal. Liberation cannot come at the expense of another. We must free each other, from the river to the sea. 

 

Turning 60, October 31, 2023

My CEASEFIRE! Halloween costume

much love and thanks for all the birthday blessings. i feel so grateful to have made it to 60 years, and perhaps i will have a few more decades to devote to this lifetime's journey. if i do, wonderful. if i don't, that is also fine. my embodiment is not what defines me.

as usual, in past weeks, my first morning thought was not my birthday, but those unable to celebrate who are suffering in war. if we're lucky, we will grow more sensitive and aware as we age. we will be willing to be more vulnerable, and release our defenses. hopefully this makes us more present, more wise, more grounded, and more fierce.

for the remainder of my time on earth, i hope to put myself to maximum use for the common good. i feel i am reaching my highest potential in my profession as an iyengar yoga practitioner and teacher. it's a very long journey and i still have so much to learn, but i feel i can access the wisdom of the practice, and share it with others, more so than ever before. 

i continue to decolonize myself. i am a humble student and steward of the `āina and all the beings of these islands, from the plants to the people to the deities. i continue to learn about my own ancestry and history and culture. 

i am a servant of my 3 grandchildren, and they teach me how to be more playful, more creative, more resilient, more compassionate, and how to be a strong, reliable anchor and co-regulator. i am a student of my 3 children, who have always been my teachers, who continue to challenge me and who will exceed me in all ways. all the learning and growth is through unconditional love and acceptance, which i never, even for one breath, take for granted. 

the genocide in gaza brings me to my knees. i am in constant prayer. i am flashing back to the wars in iraq and afghanistan which i tried with all my might to stop. even more recently, my heart continues to break for yemen. further back, i'm sure my dna is awakened by all the earlier wars, including the unspeakably brutal proxy war fought on the korean peninsula in the early 1950s. 

i'm ready to put my body on the line to protect the most vulnerable. this is the first time in my life i have not been a full-time caregiver, with someone to come home to, to feed and care for. it's a wonderful feeling to know you have nothing to lose. career? those who resonate with me will support me, and the others can go. wealth? i've already given it up. it's long gone, and yet here i am, still breathing and eating. reputation? whatever. 

may i speak truth to power. 

may i continue to learn and evolve. 

may i stand strong with a soft belly and open heart. 

here is a quote that shook me to the core that i will close with: 

"Conflict: an opportunity for intimacy. An eruption of energy characterized by a deep feeling of hurt, resentment, loss, fear, and a challenge to one’s self-esteem. It is usually also characterized by the appearance of surface issues and demands that can be argued about, so that the deeper feelings won’t have to be felt. Conflict, when handled appropriately, can be a catalyst for increased awareness of ourselves and our connections to one another. It can be the crack in the hard shell of our persona, that allows us to begin a journey to the center of ourselves." ~ Warriors of the Heart, Danaan Parry 

may the hard shells of our personae crack open over and over and over again. 

mahalo nui loa, 

peggy gwi-seok hong

The Collective Nervous System in the Wake of Tragedy

Cindy, William, James, and Kyu Cho

I don't know about you, but I feel as though I've been thrown off a cliff. I cannot take anymore. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.

But we cannot seem to make it stop. We can speak out. We can refuse to accept business as usual. We can call legislators until we're hoarse. And yet.... sure as the sun comes up, we hear of another mass shooting on the news, then another, then another.

We are knit together by a collective nervous system. It operates like a mycorrhizal network we cannot see. We sense and feel each other and the life around us. We shape and influence each other through our finely tuned limbic systems. If we slow down enough to really pay attention, we can sense imminent danger, and we can also sense safety. We all have the capacity to read the energy in a room, or a city, or a gathering of any sort, and respond accordingly. We recognize the collective nervous system when we tap into interpersonal, cultural, ancestral, and intergenerational joys and traumas. It might be a sports event, or an artistic performance, or a national tragedy. Social media is one way that the collective nervous system shows up.

Because we belong to collectives,  when I pull a string, others will feel the tug. If someone else creates a wave, it will ripple outward. That is, we all have the capacity to affect the collective nervous system, whether it's to agitate and activate, or whether it's to quiet and pacify.

As such, there is nothing more important in this moment, in the wake of tragedy, than to slow down, and tune into our own somatic state. I'm a student of Resmaa Menakem, who offers the framework of "VIMBASI":

V: What is the vibe you are experiencing?

I: What images come to mind?

M: What meaning arises?

B: What behavior and urges are elicited?

A: How does this affect you?

S: What sensations do you feel in your body?

I: What do you imagine is possible?

Sit down, observe, and process. This is how we metabolize our experiences, and especially our traumas. The more I override my traumas, big and small, the more I get caught in loops that prolong the trauma. 

In fact, suppressing my response does nothing but make me ill. My stomach churns, I lose my appetite, or I seek sugary, fatty, or salty foods in response to elevated cortisol. My breath shortens, my airways inflame, weakening my immune response. If I seek to break the cycle, I have to slow down and process what is happening.

As Iyengar Yoga practitioners, let's metabolize the events of the day. Let's settle our nervous systems, not by spiritual bypassing, overriding, numbing out, or ignoring, but by becoming more aware, by feeling more, by sensitizing ourselves without judgment or conclusion. It's not about resolving or repairing, not just yet. First we have to calm the f*k down. Feel what we feel. Give others a chance to settle their nerves and to self-observe. In this way, the collective nervous system gets a chance to re-set. 

In the wake of tragedy, this response may be mistaken for "doing nothing." Similarly, it's easy to ignore the mycorrhizal network underground. How do we even know it's there? Scientists call it the circulatory system of the planet. So I have to trust that when I am able to settle myself, it will impact the collective nervous system, the above-ground rhizomatic network of humans. Your family will appreciate it and respond in kind, as well as your neighbors, and everyone else you come into contact with. 

From here, we can create shifts, from a red alert trauma state to a calmer state where we are not acting impulsively nor defensively, but with clarity of mind. Consciousness evolves, and what was not possible a year ago, can become feasible now. Strong, decisive, effective action can emerge. This is what we can offer our communities in this moment as Iyengar Yoga practitioners.

Here is a simple sequence that may facilitate this process:

Salamba Śavasāna on bolster, Ujjayi II

Supta Baddha Koṇāsana on bolster

Supta Vīrāsana on bolster

Adho Mukha Vīrāsana on bolster

Rope Śirṣāsana

Chair Dwipāda Viparita Daṇḍāsana

Chair Sarvangāsana

Śavāsana