. . . my story about the young Americanpoo playing poor me provokes a message from a friend . . . too harsh, he says . . . judgemental . . . I can see that . . . the difference between judgement and discernment is sometimes cloudy . . . and when there is triggering, from writer or reader, it is always worth examining further . . . explore the shadows a little . . .
. . . so, some context on poverty perhaps, but first the possibilities of the blog: a while back I thought about writing an autobiography . . . mainly for my children, because history is lost generation by generation . . . I know something about my grandparents, beyond that nothing . . . and it occurred to me that an autobiography runs the risk of being one sided . . . the story putting the author in a good light maybe . . . anyway, the story as remembered by only one player in each particular act of the play . . . why not write a wiki-biography? I write my view, invite the other players to tell it from their pespective . . . now that would be interesting . . . Robert Anton Wilson talks about each person seeing the world through their own reality tunnel, differently . . . how much more so with memories, faulty recall added to unique present perspective . . . the point being that this blog, Wear and Dao, may turn into that autobiography, and there is a comment tool readers can use . . . perhaps not as equal as a wiki but I welcome your input . . . if a topic wants exploring, let's all have a go at it . . .
. . . where were we?
. . . ah yes, poor me . . . let's take a look at my relationship with money . . .
. . . I already posted some thoughts on enough . . . consider what money is . . . and how each of us relates to it . . . at present I think it works best flowing . . . its job being a proxy for exchange of value . . .we can barter our gifts, the products of our work . . . we can agree how many potatoes equal a cabbage . . . in Local Exchange Systems an hour of work is usually valued the same, whatever it is . . . in practice you can have plenty of reflexology but getting your roof mended is trickier . . . at first maybe a conch shell stood for a unit . . . later something precious, gold . . . then power comes along, the stronger gather more gold, pay soldiers to guard it . . . money becomes a thing in itself . . . and toxic when not moving . . . like shit . . . works best spread thin . . .
. . . on we go . . . rich and poor . . . those in the middle . . . the fear of poverty . . . the fear of losing your wealth . . . fear being the block to a free life . . .
. . . very clever entities, possibly from another branch of homo, not sapiens, but hominid . . . characterised by huge intellect, zero compassion . . . develop a confidence trick which shifts the world from money related to gold to paper money, issued by Banks, lent at interest . . . protected by governments . . . then ones and zeros on a computer . . . when the whole charade collapses, their governments agree to generate more ones and zeros . . . humans who borrowed "money" are impoverished . . . mostly accept the situation . . . the illusion that governments are elected from below persists . . . the mind control of the media, controlled by the hominids and their allies pulls off the brilliant trick of convincing us that we are free to choose governments, commodities and so on; at the same time they sell us corrupt politicians, poisonous food, shiny baubles we don't need but yearn for . . . our status depending on having more crap than our neighbours . . . where police and army are clearly in the service of the state, ancient, murky networks of parallel power suck in potential rebels, promise esoteric secrets, deliver preferment in a pyramid where orders are obeyed without question . . .
. . . I have enough. . . lucky whilst the illusion holds out and my pension holds out too . . . though not convinced it will . . . maybe go round the spiral of linear time, find land, grow food, share, build a better world . . . it's happening already . . . perhaps that's my destiny in Portugal . . . maybe Weardale . . . maybe neither . . . in the end it's all a blink in eternity . . . a moment of madness . . . I hold it lightly . . .
. . . in the realm of spirituality, this plays out in different ways . . . throughout the ages, sages have wandered without a thought for money . . . maybe the timeless beggar I encountered in Lourdes was one . . . playing with our Place to Be project, from time to time the price of things arose . . . I am cautious now, this is tricky . . . impeccable speech or writing is difficult . . . I neither wish to offer offence, nor avoid issues worth examining . . . you, dear reader, have the choice of taking offence, which is to say take it personally, or not . . . students of Don Miguel Ruiz will have noticed two of the Four Agreements already . . .
. . . if we come here with our unique gift . . . it is not a gift until it is given . . . not sold, given . . . how does that feel?
. . . those who know me personally will, I hope, confirm that I don't usually play "holier than thou" . . . certainly I am lucky to have several friends who specialise in pricking pomposity . . .
. . . taking on the beautiful rented cottage in Stanhope as a base for A Place to Be, there was no fear of how to pay the bills . . . even though I moved from a very basic £300 all inclusive existence in Larraine's spare room to more than double that, I was smart enough to have hidden half my pension lump sum in a deposit account for a year, which meant the lease was covered for 6 months . . . the universe brought that together with a Swiss elf I met at Findhorn, Corinne, who announced she was coming to stay with me in January 2012 and the idea that Gary and I developed to rent a cottage for the week between Christmas 2011 and New Year 2012 for five days with different topics to introduce our project to others . . . people brought food to supplement the leek and potato soup Tamma and I made each day (Tamma had arrived from Australia via Denmark, which is another story of synchronicity for another day) . . . sometimes people left money in the Chinese urn I found in the local charity shop . . . sometimes money was mentioned, sometimes not . . . as time went on a day each month was offered, then two . . . . First Saturday, Third Sunday . . . so many different people came . . . such a joy . . . Gary's view was that there was a value and we should charge or at least draw attention to the urn . . . I was not comfortable with it . . . I found work in the village . . . enough to meet the bills . . . the initial £5k fell to £1k, but rarely below . . . a few generous sponsors set up monthly direct debits for the necessary expenses of the project . . . mostly accountants' fees . . . a large gift to set up the website . . . we went up the valley to a larger house for a week's retreat . . . I paid the rent, bought food, indicated to friends who came a rough figure we might find together . . . on the last day, when everyone had gone, sat down and counted the donations . . . exactly what was spent . . . a shiver ran down my spine . . . gave thanks to the universe . . .
. . . this topic came up many times with different people . . . I saw friends paying large sums to charismatic gurus to learn how to generate abundance . . . looked like spiritual pyramid schemes to me . . . others struggled with earning a living from their talents . . . when Susie offered my angel card reading we discussed her tariff . . . she offered it free . . . I loved her gift, offered her more than her nominal rate . . . Gary was teaching mindful meditation, paid by the employment service, then the council and the health service . . . latterly a big contract in schools . . . impossible to do that as part of a gift economy . . . he always offered it free at A Place to Be . . . in fact, when we two first met, he offered me a free place on a government funded eight week mindfulness based stress reduction course . . . not that I was especially stressed, just his gift freely offered and the other participants, long term unemployed folks and workers from the service trying to encourage them to find work . . . his benchmark was not a job found, rather a self-reported shift from feeling hopeless to hope for the future . . . any separation between employed and unemployed dissolving over the weeks . . .
. . . looking at Buddhist traditions, near Stanhope I found three kinds, each with a different approach to money . . . the Tibetans at Samye Ling, with a clear tariff; the Soto Zen monks at Throssel Hole, a suggested amount to donate, bookshop with prices; the Theravadans at Harnham, all is offered, books published for free distribution, a few boxes around for donations, a lay sangha supporting . . . a great story of an old monk who loved to wander, begging his food in the traditional way in villages and towns around; one day set off into Kielder Forest, a wilderness on the border between England and Scotland; on the first day met a forester, got talking, invited home, spent a week sharing his wisdom, the forester taking care of the food and shelter, later joining the lay sangha. . .
. . . then there are the new age communities: Findhorn with an income related three tier structure and bursaries, not cheap; Tamera, around £500 for the introductory week . . . plenty of talk about an abundant universe, even courses . . . not so easily practised . . . fear at the root, perhaps . . .
. . . back to Buddhism in countries where it is the main tradition . . . on one level there is incentive to place a child with the monks . . . their food is assured . . . maybe also some antipathy in the hard pressed villages, when the monks come round every day with their bowls . . .
. . . so, the combination of a challenge from a friend and rain in Spain has given me the opportunity to look at this question a bit more deeply . . . which shadow part of myself was the young American triggering? . . . which part of my version of the story triggered my friend's shadow side? . . . we both have history supporting equality . . . my support of communism now dissolved, having understood the fatal flaw in its assumption that the end, the great goal of equality and social justice, justifies the means employed to get there . . . ends and means cannot be separated, they are connected, entangled . . . any violent deed done in support of peace taints peace . . . you might as well fornicate for virginity . . . my challenge for my friend is to see if feeding, clothing, sheltering a whole section of society we label the poor, doesn't effectively disable them . . . as the witty line in a radio play I heard many years ago had it, spoken by a young woman on state benefits to her rather condescending social worker: listen you snooty cow, if it wasn't for people like me, people like you wouldn't have a job . . . dependency culture working at many levels . . .
. . . does all this mean there is no place for charity, the impulse to help our fellow sentient beings? . . . not at all . . . each may respond in tune with their soul's call . . . for me, the beggar in Lourdes drew me to empty my pockets of change (though not notes), Juan, the Argentinian peace pilgrim, to share my food, make porridge with honey for breakfast for him, Sergio and me, and give him €20 for the road too . . . he shared his biscuits. . . . inspired Sergio and me with his mission . . .
then to make a pot of soup for incoming pilgrims on my rest day in Puente la Reina . . . and if the young American had arrived sooner, he would have been invited to help himself too. . . as it was, Alberto, Elias and a couple of others got there first . . . appreciated the gesture . . . reciprocated later, though it was not expected . . .
Charles Eisenstein writes beautifully about the gift economy . . . charismatic author of Sacred Economics . . . of course it takes time to transition from fear based, money mediated systems . . . and if it's worth talking about, it's worth doing . . . how else will we create the new heaven on earth, except by removing fear and allowing love to flow . . . each one of us joyfully giving our gift away . . .
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