"In a time of universal deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act." -George Orwell

Vulnerability Is Strength

In Uncategorized on November 21, 2017 at 11:37 pm

The strength of vulnerability is not self-centered. It is like the young spring leaf that can withstand strong winds and flourish. This vulnerability is incapable of being hurt, whatever the circumstances. Vulnerability is without centre as the self. It has an extraordinary strength, vitality and beauty.”

Jiddu Krishnamurti, “Letters To The Schools, Vol. 2”

Do you see the necessity of being open and vulnerable? If you do not see the truth of that then you will again surreptitiously build walls around yourself. To see the truth in the false is the beginning of wisdom; to see the false as the false is the highest comprehension. To see that what you have been doing all these years can only lead to further strife and sorrow – actually to experience the truth of it, which is not mere verbal acceptance – will put an end to that activity. You cannot voluntarily make yourself open; the action of will cannot make you vulnerable. The very desire to be vulnerable creates resistance. Only by understanding the false as the false is there freedom from it. Be passively watchful of your habitual responses; simply be aware of them without resistance; passively watch them as you would watch a child, without the pleasure or distaste of identification. passive watchfulness itself is freedom from defence, from closing the door. To be vulnerable is to live, and to withdraw is to die.”

Jiddu Krishnamurti, “Commentaries On Living, Series 2

As a spiritual being that is looking within, I have spent many years silencing my mind, and these old school, preconceived ideas on who I was supposed to be as a man. As I have shed these layers of self I have also shed these layers I built to shield myself from connection and love. You see, when we build these layers and masks that we wear we may shield others from our fear and weakness, yet we also keep people out and away from our true inner being. We create a sphere of isolation around us no matter how many relationships we have. Deep down we know this, we know we are not authentic or real. We understand that we are acting in our own play, pretending to be something for someone. We hold back and reserve our heart. We keep our stiff upper lips, and we keep our fear and worries to ourselves and we close our hearts. One cannot fully love unless their heart is fully open. Quid pro quo. This is life, what we want we must first become. If we want unconditional love, we must be unconditional love. Unconditional love is love without the boundaries, with no masks. It is a fully exposed heart. Yet our mind wants to shield us. The questions pound in our mind, what if they do not accept me and my weaknesses? What if I love and they do not love back? What if…? Our mind fights these questions and holds us in check. Our mind keeps us safe by keeping us confined. It takes courage to put your heart fully out there. This is the paradox as vulnerability is not weakness it is strength. To live a life exposed and out there authentically is the hardest path. It is a path that anyone can judge, yet it is also a path that has no limits. It is a path that is entirely free. No more lies, no more masks, just an exposed, vulnerable heart.
In this vulnerability we find empathy, and compassion. We find love at its root, its deepest level. In this we find authenticity and the depth of our path in this life. The courage to take this difficult path is rewarded in the relationships and authentic experiences we have in opening our heart.” –Thomas D. Craig

“Ooof. What Thomas talks about in this piece resonates with me very deeply. Living a life of “double consciousness.” Decades of layers and masks crafted. Keeping people out and away from my true inner being. Creating a sphere of isolation no matter how many relationships I had. Pretending to be something other than my authentic self for others. Fear filled and closed-hearted, keeping my fears and worries to myself, justifying it by saying “I don’t like to burden people with my shit.” “Safe” in self/societally imposed emotional solitary confinement.  These typical and undiscussed ways of being as a black man born into the violence & oppression of systems of patriarchy & white supremacy, for many of us, seem like a necessity for survival. Having to be hyperconsciously self-policing about how you present to the world, because in some cases, being yourself can be hazardous to your health. Grateful to have found to courage to put my heart fully out there. I would encourage you to check out the brilliant documentary “The Mask You Live In” to get a glimpse of what this way of being is like. –Jevon

 

Zen Warrior

“The wound is the place where the light enters you.” ~ Rumi

rumi lightIt has taken me a lifetime to understand that vulnerability is strength, that an open heart takes courage. As a man, this principle goes against everything in how I was raised. I grew up in a small, rural, mill town, a place that if I could describe in short I would say it is old school. Old school in that boys played football, didn’t show their emotion or feelings and kept their pain in check. The be strong and act like a man mentality. This fear induced mentality has limited our growth and spiritual evolution. Yet, you still hear the remnants of this message today. Words that oppress and control women, or fight against feminism and equal wages. Words that divide and create classes, or control. This level of thinking is like the 12 year old bully with…

View original post 609 more words

Advertisements

The Power Of Real Love

In Uncategorized on November 10, 2017 at 8:07 pm
1

Sharon Salzberg (left) and bell hooks (right)

 

Oldspeak: Ms. hooks said it best in her book “All About Love” :

Love as a process that has been refined, alchemically altered as it moves from state to state, is that “perfect love” that can cast out fear. As we love, fear necessarily leaves. Contrary to the notion that one must work to attain perfection, this outcome does not have to be struggled for – it just happens. It is the gift perfect love offers. To receive the gift, we must first understand that “there is no fear in love.” But we do fear, and fear keeps us from trusting in love.

Cultures of domination rely on the cultivation of fear as a way to ensure obedience.  In our society, we make much of love and say little about fear.  Yet we are all terribly afraid most of the time. As a culture we are obsessed with the notion of safety. Yet we do not question why we live in states of extreme anxiety and dread.  Fear is the primary force upholding structures of domination. It promotes the desire for separation, the desire not to be known.  When we are taught that safety lies always with sameness, then difference, of any kind will appear as a threat. When we choose to love, we choose to move against fear – against alienation and separation.  The choice to love is a choice to connect – to find ourselves in the other.” –bell hooks

“Jesus. When I think back to all the “love” I’ve professed and was professed to me in my life, I have a hard time thinking of an instance where conditions & fear weren’t also present. Fear of feeling. Fear of speaking. Fear of separation. Fear of being queer. Fear of loss of love. Fear of truth. Fear of trust. Fear of judgment. Fear of being my authentic self. Innumerable permutations of fear disguised as Love.  “love” professed in states of extreme anxiety and dread that went unquestioned. “love” employed in service of manipulation and control and domination. Always struggling to attain that which just fucking happens. The amount of heartache, frustration, anger and stress endured in the name of “love” Whew. That’s a lotta life energy expended to come to the point to be fortunate enough to experience fearless, unconditional, “perfect Love”. So grateful for the experience. So thankful for the gift. Real Love is something we all could use more practice with in these times of universal deceit and hatred.  Only the power of Real Love can vanquish fear.  These beloved wise ones have some excellent insight into how we can go about it.” –Jevon

 

By Bell Hooks, Sharon Salzberg & Melvin McLeod @ Lions Roar:

How do we bring more love into our lives? Sharon Salzberg and Bell Hooks sat down with Lion’s Roar’s Melvin McLeod for a special discussion on love in celebration of Salzberg’s new book, Real Love: The Art of Mindful Connection. Photos by Christine Alicino.

If love is what we need more of—and we do—then Sharon Salzberg and bell hooks are two of the most important voices of our time. As a leading teacher of loving-kindness meditation, Sharon Salzberg answers the all-important question: how, precisely, do we bring more love into our lives? As one of America’s leading political and cultural critics, bell hooks advocates for the power of love to transform not only our lives, but our society, overturning the culture of domination. I was honored to join these two great women and champions of love to celebrate the publication of Salzberg’s new book, Real Love: The Art of Mindful Connection, in a discussion at the Jewish Community Centre in New York co-sponsored by Lion’s Roar, the Garrison Institute, and the JCC. —Melvin McLeod

Melvin McLeod: We all want to be loved. We all want to love. But many of us are baffled about how to actually bring more love into our lives. How can we start?

bell hooks: Something I deeply appreciate about Sharon’s teaching—particularly in her new book, which is a kind of love workbook—is that she explores what we need to do to carry on the work of love. It fascinates me that while we are so obsessed with romance, many of us are turned off by the practice of love.

When you tell someone that there’s really a practice—a way that many of us, especially those from dysfunctional backgrounds, can learn what it is to love—they are hesitant to fully accept that. Sharon, when you express your conviction in our innate capacity to love, I’m not sure many people really believe in that.

Sharon Salzberg: Well, why would we, really? [laughter]

There’s a line from an old Steve Carell movie, Dan in Real Life: “Love is not a feeling. It’s an ability.” I wanted to use that line in my book Real Love, but my editor pushed back, saying I couldn’t really say that because people think of love as a feeling. So I sort of fudged it and wrote, “While we might think of love as a feeling, we can also think of it as an ability.” That turned out to be the most important line in the book. It describes the essence of a transformative experience I had a long time ago.

Love is inside me. Other people might awaken it or threaten it, but as a capacity, it’s mine.

In 1985, I was in Burma practicing intensive loving-kindness meditation. I had been there three months when I had a realization. I saw that up until then, I had considered love something that was in someone else’s hands. They were either going to deliver it to me or take it away. It was as if the UPS person arrived with a package of love, but if they got to my doorstep and decided they had the wrong address, I would have no love in my life.

In that retreat, I realized that was not true. Love is inside me. Other people might awaken it or threaten it, but as a capacity, it’s mine. That was incredibly liberating and also a little daunting. Because—and here’s the big question—if it’s an ability, does that mean it’s my responsibility to try to cultivate it, even in difficult circumstances?

bell hooks: Anytime we do the work of love, we are doing the work of ending domination. In a culture of domination, it’s extremely hard to cultivate love or to be love. At this moment in our nation, there’s so much disrespect afloat. Respect comes from a word meaning to look at. Right now, we are not looking at one another with loving-kindness, with compassion.

As Sharon teaches, you have to practice love not just for the people you like, those who are near you. You have to practice it for everyone. In Appalachia, where I live, I see an upsurge of white supremacy. Prior to this, I felt I was taking to heart the Buddhist emphasis on practicing love. I felt I could walk around Appalachia and beam love to white people. Maybe they wouldn’t respond or they would turn away, but I did not feel fear.

These days, I feel fear and uncertainty in my relationship to strangers. So I struggle every day now with how to love the stranger. How do I love people who are beaming a lot of hate in my direction? That’s a really crucial national question right now. How can we return ourselves to a place of loving-kindness?

Sharon Salzberg: Normally, we don’t want to love someone we’re in an adverse relationship with. We may feel it means giving in, surrendering, or giving up our values. But real love means loving them too.

An indelible image that has stuck in my mind is of the freedom riders registering people to vote in the South in the 1960s. One civil rights activist who had been badly beaten was being interviewed in the hospital, and he was radiant. Asked why, he said, “We practice nonviolence.”

Where did that come from? I’d have a hard time generating that kind of radiance for a bad cab driver. That shows us what’s possible when we don’t see love as being weak or giving in, but as courageous. If we see love as touching something much greater than our own situation, then it becomes a wellspring of strength.

Over the years that I’ve taught loving-kindness, I’ve encountered many people who are skeptical about the whole thing. “If I were to develop a more loving heart,” they think, “I’d have to give more money, I wouldn’t take a stand, I wouldn’t protect myself, I’d just sort of smile.”

If we think that’s what love means, what a degraded notion of love we’ve come to! There’s something empowering in recapturing the word “love” as something strong and unafraid.

bell hooks: That’s part of the power of Martin Luther King Jr. that we’ve kind of lost. He talked about love as a transformational source. It’s come down to us as a sort of a watered-down version of “Love your neighbor as yourself,” not as an empowering force that changes everything. I love Dr. King’s book Strength to Love, in which he talks about the courage it takes, in the midst of domination, to decide to love.

Breaking down that us-and-them binary is part of the work of love.

That’s a commitment many of us would rather not deal with. How do we make that commitment? How do we start to love? We’re in such a climate of hate right now. We’re seeing diminishing acts of kindness and love because fear of the stranger has been so deeply cultivated in us. Breaking down that us-and-them binary is part of the work of love. We need to challenge all the binaries we face and try to see where to find a relationship with the “other”—the one we fear—so that we can enact compassion.

Melvin McLeod: Love is a word with so many different meanings and interpretations. How do you define it?

bell hooks: Love is mostly about the action, not the definition. Drawing on Erich Fromm, I see love as a combination of six ingredients: care, commitment, knowledge, responsibility, respect, and trust.  They form a basis for action. It’s not about what you’re feeling or how you’re defining love. The real question is: what is the action you’re taking?

Melvin McLeod: In Real Love, Sharon, you remind us how self-doubt and inner criticism can hold us back from loving. As we make the effort to cultivate more love, is it also helpful for us to recognize and celebrate how much we love and care already? Rather than continually questioning our capacity to love, are we challenged to see how our inherent capacity to love is constantly in action already?

bell hooks: Is it constantly in action, or is it something we have to activate? Our innate capacity to love is like a seed in the soil. What do we need to do to activate that seed, to make it capable of blossoming? It’s not enough just to know that the seed is in the soil.

Sharon Salzberg: Yes. Without our effort, it will not grow and spread. But I agree that we have unguarded moments of profound connection and they’re not strategic. They don’t even have to be with a human being or fall within the standard picture of a relationship. We can love life or nature. We can be struck with gratitude and awe, have great moments of connection, without another person involved.

It’s true we can be harsh judges of others and of ourselves. We always need to look at both the stories others tell about us and the stories we tell ourselves. Part of what makes us feel incomplete is not noticing that we are loving people, that we have great capacity to love. Love is not a scarce resource.

bell hooks: This takes me to the one place in Sharon’s book that raised a question for me: where you say you don’t have to be completely self-loving to love others. I have my doubts.

I make a distinction between care and love. I received care in my dysfunctional family and I’m here today because of it. Even if you receive care Monday through Friday and abuse on Saturday, it doesn’t negate the fact that you experienced care. But it’s not love. I believe we can wholeheartedly care for others without loving ourselves. But I don’t know that we can love them.

Sharon Salzberg: That’s a good point. As you’ve been speaking, I’ve been thinking that the missing ingredient in the six elements of love you listed is love for oneself. If you give love to others without loving yourself, you’ll be out of balance. You won’t find wholeness.

On the other hand, I don’t think loving yourself one hundred percent should become the project before you ever work on loving somebody else. People say that to me all the time: I decided to spend a few years only offering loving-kindness to myself. I understand and respect the impulse, but the question is, how do you know when you’re done? What’s the measure you’re looking for?

bell hooks: It’s not necessary to get to the point of being able to say I completely love myself. But I do think we must come to that place of wholeness where we are at peace, especially those of us who have unresolved trauma. When you have wholeness and peace, it makes you want to love more. As you say, Sharon, people start off thinking they could never love that much—it’s too daunting. Or they don’t want to, because it would make them too vulnerable. But the more you practice love, the easier it is. It becomes an act of grace.

Question from the audience: How do you find the strength to love the other? How do you stop seeing someone as the “other” when they are obviously othering you?

bell hooks: The practice of compassion is a profound practice of finding space. Can I find a space I can enter with this person who clearly others me, who wants to deny me my humanity? That’s one of the key roles of meditation—finding a space where I have the strength to not be shriveled up by an act of aggression I encounter.

As Black people and Brown people, we encounter so much everyday aggression. What may seem like a trivial incident can do real damage, and we end up carrying it around. For me, the alchemical process of meditating, of reflection, allows me not to carry things with me that can paralyze and wound me. Self-care strengthens our capacity to enter into this culture of domination and othering without being constantly wounded.

Sharon Salzberg: You’ve already done the hardest part, because you want to reach out to the other. You don’t see that as weak or being in collusion with the other’s destructive view.

That’s strength already. That’s your innate dignity coming through. It enables you to look at how that person is “shriveled up,” in bell’s words. You can see the self-imposed prisons they live in, how the choices they’ve made have cut them off. Compassion can flow from that.

Question from the audience: Love was a radical notion to my mother. I realized early that she didn’t know how to love herself, and that meant it was hard for her to love me. I wasn’t shown what it means to love; I was shown what it means not to love. How can I learn through meditation and other practices to connect to what it means to love from a positive perspective?

Sharon Salzberg: There can be something beneficial that can come out of learning through negation. When you get to see up close what doesn’t work, you can also see what’s left, and you may find something really potent.

As far as meditation practice goes, the proof is usually in doing it. If you’re the kind of person who’s really helped by structure, I would suggest trying a structure that seems reasonable to you. Don’t make it too ambitious, and then give it a shot. If you’re just starting out, try something like ten minutes a day.

One thing I’ve learned from my own meditation and from teaching others is that while you may think you’re getting nowhere with meditation—I still get so sleepy, I’m so bored, I’m not getting an ecstatic charge out of this—change does happen in your life. You might look in vain for the change during that ten-minute period each day, but not notice that when you made a big mistake, you didn’t beat yourself up quite so much. Or you met a stranger and really paid attention to them instead of being self-absorbed. Or a conflict arose and you didn’t treat it with the same desperation. That’s how meditation can help more love seep into your life.

Question from the audience: I run an organization where I work 24/7 to help others. But I also have a lot of anger. It feels like in the face of hatred, revenge is good. Others are now saying, as they did back in the sixties, “Get down, put your head down, and let people spit on you.” At the time I said, “I’m not going on those marches. Nobody is gonna spit on me without me spitting back,” and I still feel pretty much the same way now. So where does somebody like me go with that? How can I find a way to be authentic within all this?

bell hooks: We like to think that revenge is satisfying, but there are so many stories in which people discover that revenge isn’t satisfying. It didn’t take away the weight they were carrying with their rage. That’s why we offer love, because it can deal with that rage and offer us ways to move beyond vengeful feelings.

As Black people in the diaspora, we use anger as a way of cutting through invisibility. If we become enraged, if we strike out, we feel like we are seen, that we are exercising a form of power. It’s possible, though, to look to other forms of power we can lay claim to, that we can use.

On the other hand, trying to contain rage, tamping it down, doesn’t work either. We get sick because we can’t engage in the healing self-care that has to happen for us to blossom.

Sharon Salzberg: If somebody spit at me, I hope I would say or do something that says, “You have no right to treat me that way. I deserve better.” I don’t see “I deserve better” as vengeful.

Audience member: That’s why I’m talking about authenticity. I want to come from a place where I really don’t want to spit back. I have learned that I have enough love for a person who spits on me that I will not spit back, or hit back, or bite back. I really, really feel that that’s not the right thing to do. If I learn that, that’s authenticity.

 

 

 

On The Perils Of Certainty And The Wisdom Of Doubt

In Uncategorized on November 9, 2017 at 7:22 pm

1

Oldspeak: ” Hello. My name is Jevon and I’m a certainty addict. As you may surmise from a cursory perusal of the last 7 years of content on this blog, I’ve been quite thoroughly and completely ensconced in my confirmation bias reinforced filter bubble of certainty addiction on a variety of topics. Most singularly lately, my certainty that unmitigated ecological calamity is all that awaits life on earth in the near future. Certainty DOES make you feel good doesn’t it…. It felt really good to  feel concerned about things I didn’t feel most others knew or cared to know about.  To feel specially informed. To ascribe a level of inviolability to my belief structures to the point that any information or argument which challenged or contradicted them were seen as the musings of poor ignorant uninformed souls. Ego fueled arrogance, self-righteousness and smarter than thouness was abundant.  A Perfect antidote to those ever recurrent pesky feelings of insecurity, depression, anxiety, alienation, fear, powerlessness & learned helplessness. This pathological desire for certainty and security in a world where there is none is quite a tough habit to break. Especially when considering the omnipresent,  powerful and convincing systems of cultural and commercial conditioning we’re born into which lead us to believe certainty and security exist in this transitory world of constantly changing flux… Fiona’s thoughts for me bring to mind the words of Alan Watts in his classic text “The Wisdom Of Insecurity” when he says:

There is a contradiction in wanting to be perfectly secure in a universe whose very nature is momentaryness and fluidity. But the contradiction lies a little deeper than the conflict between the desire for security and the fact of change.  If I want to be secure, that is protected from the flux of life, I am wanting to be separate from life.  Yet it is this very sense of separateness which makes me feel insecure. To be secure means to isolate and fortify the “I”, but it is just the feeling of being an isolated “I” which makes me feel lonely and afraid. In other words, the more security I can get, the more I shall want… The desire for security and the feeling of insecurity are the same thing.

We look for this security by by fortifying and enclosing ourselves in innumerable ways. We want the protection of being “exclusive” and “special” , seeking to belong to the safest church, the best nation, the highest class, the right set, and the nice people.  These defenses lead to divisions between us, and so to more insecurity demanding more defenses. Of course it is all done in the sincere belief that we are trying to do the right things and live in the best way, but this too is a contradiction.

What we have to discover is that there is no safety and security, that seeking them is painful, and that when we imagine we have found them, we don’t like it. ”

Consider kicking your habit of certainty addiction. Take some time out to honesly & objectively inquire about your most inveterate beliefs. To critically analyze the externally prescribed life script you’ve memorized and are artfully acting out. Maybe improv life once in a while.  Have the courage to lower the considerable defenses you’ve erected around your core belief structures and consider adopting other ways of being. Connect with feelings that come up when you peel back the thin veneer of certainty. Smile, lovingingly accept them & let them pass away. Be with the idea that you may not be the “I” that you’re so securely certain about. Take a walk outside of your past and future made prison of certainty and see what you find.  Beware of certainty. Become more familiar and comfortable with the wonder, mystery and awe of the ever changing, ever present and uncertain NOW. -Jevon

 

Written By Fiona Robertson @ Beyond Our Beliefs:

Lately, I’ve been reading about certainty addiction (or bias). Our brains are apparently wired to perceive uncertainty as a potential threat to our survival, so we go looking for certainty wherever we can find it. We prefer certainties – however painful or uncomfortable – to the unknown and uncertain. We will ignore facts, reasoning and arguments – however compelling – that seem to threaten our sense of certainty. We see certainty addiction playing out in many areas of life, including politics and religion. It is also evident within spirituality.

Certainty feels good. In fact, certainty evokes the same kind of feel-good feeling as sex, gambling and other addictions. It also tends to reduce anxiety; the more certain we are, the more our sense of threat diminishes. No wonder we are attracted to certainty. A lack of physical certainty– food, shelter, warmth – can indeed be a threat to our survival. However, we often act as if our belief structures are equally necessary to our survival. An attack on our beliefs – even hearing an opposing viewpoint – can feel viscerally and powerfully threatening. We invest our ideas and beliefs with certainty, and proceed to defend them come what may.

When we go into defensive mode, we act as if we are defending the beliefs themselves, as if it is the content of the belief or viewpoint that is so important to us. In reality, however strongly we think we feel about a topic, we are also driven by our addiction to certainty. The more certain we are, the stronger and more determined our defensiveness will be. We will do whatever we can to hold onto our certainty, desperately trying to not feel all that comes with uncertainty.

Our addiction to certainty, while it gives us a sense of self and a feeling of security, also confines us. Having a sense of the known – even if the known is unpleasant or painful – is often less frightening than entertaining the unknown, yet it keeps us bound and unable to see wider potential or possibility. One of the many things I love about inquiry is the ability it gives us to question everything, to cast the light of doubt on anything we take to be certain truth. When we inquire, we come face to face with our certainties. I most definitely am unlovable. Yes, I’m better than him. Yes, my opinions are right. We discover just how tightly we are holding on to all our beliefs and opinions about ourselves and the world because we can’t conceive of what or who we might be without them.

Asking the inquiry questions opens up the possibility that things – including ourselves – may not be as we’ve believed them to be. Whatever our answers, the questioning itself can pierce the armour of certainty, or at least open up a slight chink. Sometimes, entertaining the possibility that we may not be X or Y is feels challenging, subversive or scary. At other times, it is liberating or exciting. It is also humbling to loosen the reins of certainty and allow other possibilities and perspectives to come into view. Either way, questioning our certainties connects us with the emotional pain that inevitably resides beneath. Once certainty is no longer obscuring it, the pain can finally emerge. As we continue to feel what has been previously unfelt, we develop the capacity to simultaneously hold certainty and uncertainty, surety and doubt. We ascribe less to an either/or model of the world and see the potential for both/and. We find a place of much deeper wisdom beneath the brittle veneer of certainty, a wisdom that only emerges when we are willing to doubt.

Inquiry does not leave us without opinions or viewpoints. It does not render us incapable of discussing issues or taking a stand on what we feel is important. It does, however, release us from the burden of having to defend our viewpoints in service to our own sense of certainty. We no longer need to be certain, because we are less addicted to certainty and the promise of security it seems to offer. As our need for certainty recedes, our relationships inevitably change. We become less defensive, less attached to our particular certainties.

Whenever we meet certainty – particularly absolute certainty – we see certainty addiction at work. Inquiring into our own certainties injects a healthy dose of doubt into our constructs and concepts. What if? What if this isn’t the case? Is this what I think it is? Am I what I tell myself I am? Again, we don’t need to come to a conclusion. There is not necessarily a definitive answer to these questions. It is the act of asking them in the first place that is most important. Can we stand not knowing? Can we rest in a place of doubt, resisting the temptation to land in a place of certainty?

In our increasingly polarised world, many people seem deeply entrenched in their certainties and unwilling or unable to question them. It seems incumbent on those of us who are willing to do the deep work of questioning to bring the wisdom of doubt to bear on all our beliefs and certainties. Perhaps together we can open up possibilities previously hidden by our collective addiction to certainty. Humbling and painful though it can be to question our sacred cows, how much better it is than to be trapped in our addiction to certainty.