Ubuntu: You Can't Be Human All By Yourself

In a world where the human heart is daily encouraged to shut down - rushing to work when work is the last thing you want to do, protecting ourselves from someone else's emotionality by limiting our openness to them, or functionally answering the check out guy at the super market when he asks you how you are - what are the ramifications to the human soul?

This weekend, I had the fortune to sit and experience the human hearts of other men. I felt their brokenness and wholeness. I felt my own brokenness and wholeness. I shared in grief and joy. I became real. I experienced Ubuntu.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu explained Ubuntu in 2008:
"One of the sayings in our country is Ubuntu - the essence of being human. Ubuntu speaks particularly about the fact that you can't exist as a human being in isolation. It speaks about our interconnectedness. You can't be human all by yourself."



This can be a hard concept for many of us to grasp, especially when we are knee deep in isolation. The idea of Ubuntu rocks the very foundation of the lifestyle that grounds itself in isolation, the American lifestyle endowed with technology, vast demographics (mom lives in florida and you live in san francisco) and a rich personal living environment (nice house) in lieu of a shared communal experience of humanity.

So what to do? Enjoy the isolation of the rugged individual life and all its private perks (ipads, mini coopers, smart phones, etc) or fight the tide and join an intentional community? Not necessarily.

Tutu goes on to say, "We think of ourselves far too frequently as just individuals, separated from one another, whereas you are connected and what you do affects the whole world. When you do well, it spreads out; it is for the whole of humanity."

So Ubuntu. Great concept. But is it real? How can it become real? Connect with others as much and as often as possible. Take lunches with friends. Be open to others. Work less. And get out into the world with people who want this connecting to be a part of their life. Attend a retreat. Most of all, be brave.

For a deeper glimpse into Tutu, check out this great piece in The Guardian.

Reconciling The Global Contradictions

I walk around and hear so much despair from people these days, from BP to Obama's inability to deliver to how the corporations have America by the balls. People want so much more from the world and have no idea how to pursue it, be it justice, humanity, or general well being.

"New" seems to be our most alluring weapon. A new president. A new congress. A new policy. A new house. A new ipad. Is that merely the knee jerk reaction of the well-trained consumer?


These contradictions, of the strong world desire for good and the reality of bad, are nearly impossible to reconcile. These contradictions hurt in the gut of life. These contradictions kick us hard. Do we kick back? Bother to raise our leg in defense?

At the very least, we react, through absorption, intrigue, or apathy. Whatever our reaction, we know what the world out there looks like. We know the corrupting influence of the loss of innocence, of adulthood. But where do we take it? Where do we go with it?

The world has always been fucked up. Why should now be any different than any other time? Because our evolution demands it be different. Our utopia says enough of this shit. Do you buy into the Judeo-Christian myth that this world must end? Before it improves? Is that "new" just being sold all over again?

Tell me. What do you think? I'm still thinking.

Surfing With Detachment

Today is an overcast day here in Boulder. My wife is quite sick. It's Father's Day and I spent half the day, cooking and cleaning. I feel weighted. But I read a great parable about a man who's horse runs away. All the villagers cry sorrow for him, lamenting his inability to pull his plow and grow food. But he says I don't know if this is good or bad or what will be the end result, all I know is that I lost a horse today. A day later, the horse returns with six others. The villagers praise his good fortune. He says I have more horses now, but who knows what will come of this. Riding one of the new horses, the man's son gets thrown off and breaks his leg. The villagers cry for his bad luck, the loss of his son's productivity for farm work. Again, the man says my son broke his leg, that's all I know. The next day the local government comes to the village to draft all the young men for a newly declared war effort, all but the man's son.

The concise delivery of the ups and downs of life in this parable and our inability to control life's circumstances is powerful. You know, as well as I, that what we can control is our reaction to our circumstances. Whether it's a fist through a wall, a scream, a cry, or a laugh of joy, where do we find ourselves in our reaction to life's circumstances? Or do we react in the hopes of finding ourselves?

I can feel sadness on this gloomy day, and yes, I do feel it, but there's also a part of me that feels that sadness like a weather pattern or ocean wave outside of myself. Reaction seems to be the modern state of the world today in the high exposure media world. Limbaugh's reaction. Palin's reaction. Obama's reaction. BP's reaction. We're more concerned with reaction than with the state of affairs, confusing the former for the latter. Thus, it's difficult to absorb the emotional weather of the times. It diminishes our power, lessens our perception of the world. How can we be a good people, causing so much destruction? Whether we hate the whining liberals or the raging conservatives or couldn't care less about any of the media babble, we still struggle with the state of the world, or maybe our taxes, our family, unemployment, debt, or general conflict on the road, at work, or at a restaurant.

But is there a way to fight our fight and feel our power and maintain detachment? I don't have the Buddhist or Hindu terms handy but I do know that passionate detachment is a form of self defense and offense that cultivates a more empowered life, where reaction is just the surf and our real power comes from our decision to ride the wave or crash headfirst. Of course, riding sounds like the most desirable option but you've got to practice for years as these are some big waves coming at us these days. So I challenge myself to get on the board and start practicing, right now. But what will happen when I fall? Will I get pissed and hate myself for trying? Or will I say, fuck it, and just get right back on the board? What about you?