Any discussion of right
livelihood has to address the following question: Is the work we are
doing good for the Earth and its inhabitants now and for seven
generations into the future?
Much of our work today would flunk that test. The
despoiling of the Earth's health by laying waste to forests, soil,
waters, other species, ozone, diversity of plants — all this spells
disaster for our species and most of the others with whom we share this
amazing home we call Earth. Likewise, the despoiling of souls that goes
on in many of our work places does not bode well for a sustainable
future. Furthermore, the gap between the haves and have-nots has never
been greater, and unemployment is a species-wide disgrace at a time
when so much good work needs doing.
What is our work doing to the world? What is it doing to our souls? How can we make things better?
To make work into right livelihood, we must pay
attention to just who we are as a species — our strengths and our
weaknesses — for it all displays itself in our work. Consider, for
example, that today's science is teaching us that each human has been
given three brains: a reptilian brain, a mammalian brain, and an
intellectual/creative brain.
The reptilian brain, what I call our crocodile brain,
is by far the oldest. Crocodiles are win/lose creatures. The crocodile
brain gives us our action/response quickness and operates our sexuality
and our respiratory system as well. The worst expression of crocodile
brain on the planet today has to be the global corporate consciousness
that is willing to swallow whole the future of planet and citizens
alike in a win/lose scenario of corporate profit taking. This happens
because our ancient crocodile brain is so closely linked to our most
recent and most powerful intellectual/creative brain. This brain, so
new on the planet, distinguishes us from other creatures. It is the
reason our mothers suffered so in bringing us into the world: our brain
is too big for the birth canal. This brain can choose to serve the
heart or it can choose to serve greed and rapaciousness. With this
brain we can create symphonies or we can create gas ovens to make our
evil impulses more efficient.
What to do? It is time to tame the crocodile brain.
Curiously, in the West, we have myths of killing the crocodile, such as
St. George or St. Martin de Tours slaying the dragon. In the East there
is a tradition of honoring the dragon, dancing with it, and giving it
its due. Dancing with the dragon means befriending the reptilian brain,
learning to pet it. This is done by ritual and also by meditation
practices. Meditation teaches us to be at home with solitude, and
solitude is a reptilian thing — reptiles like being alone, they do not
bond. Every human has to learn to be at home with solitude, and this is
learned by meditation practices.
The gift of compassion Our second task is to
couple the intellectual/creative brain more with the mammal brain than
the reptile brain. Why the mammal brain? This brain is our brain for
bonding. Mammals bond; reptiles do not. Mammals have breasts and
uteruses; interestingly, the Hebrew word for compassion comes from the
word for womb. Mammals introduced compassion to the planet. But of a
limited kind. Dian Fossey, who lived among gorillas, never observed
gorillas showing compassion to any non-gorilla. The same holds for Jane
Goodall, who lived among chimpanzees. She found that chimpanzee
compassion was limited to the chimpanzee nation alone.
We humans, who are part chimpanzee and mammal, are here
to broaden the practice of compassion on this planet. Does this not
explain why so many of our spiritual leaders — from Isaiah to Jesus,
from Buddha to Lao Tzu, from Gandhi to Black Elk, from Chief Seattle to
Martin Luther King, from Dorothy Day to Mother Theresa — were
instructing us in one thing: How to be compassionate?
To be compassionate is to live out the truth of our
interdependence. Compassion is not about feeling sorry for another. It
is about so identifying with others that their joy is my joy and their
pain is my pain, and consequently we do something about both.
Compassion therefore leads to celebration on the one hand and to
relieving pain and suffering on the other. “Compassion means justice,”
Meister Eckhart said six centuries ago, and he was right.
There will be no compassion if we cannot tame the
reptilian brain. There will only be more win/lose energy, more greed
and violence. Gandhi and King are examples of people who, in their
nonviolent strategy, committed themselves to recycling the hatred of
reptilian brain into love and awareness.
(The political monkey business that went on recently in
Florida was less monkey than it was crocodile energy. The high voltage
of win/lose energy being released there in the shadow of the Everglades
with its morphic resonance of reptilian energy, seemed a very logical
place for a political crocodile game to play itself out. And crocodiles
they were, all over CNN and network TV.)
How do humans tame their crocodile brains? Meditation
is probably the most effective way. Two stories have come my way
recently, both having to do with the workplace.
Prison is the place where we generally dump the
“losers” in the high-stakes game of win/lose capitalism; the
prison-industrial complex is growing like no other industry these days.
Two years ago, I learned about something remarkable happening at the
biggest youth prison in America, one located outside of Los Angeles.
The place had been a hell hole for years, with 600 prisoners in their
late teens driven by gang violence within the prison and without. In
desperation, I am told, the warden invited three Buddhist monks to
teach the prisoners to meditate. At the time, 99 percent of the
prisoners were Baptist or Roman Catholic (meaning probably Black or
Hispanic) and they didn't know what a Buddhist monk was or what
meditation meant. Gradually, however, they settled down to the
experience and the energy of the entire place changed from being
violent, us-versus-them, and win/lose to being a place of human
respect. What did this change in a workplace cost? Probably three bowls
of rice daily for the Buddhist monks teaching meditation.
Meditation calms the reptilian brain, turning the
crocodile into a kind of pet within us. Don't underestimate the power
of meditation.
I know a professor of engineering at a major US
university who was despairing of academia's pathologies until he
entered our university and got in touch with his own “right brain”
through exposure to spiritual traditions and practices. Now he is
organizing a conference for engineers in which they can rediscover
their connection to mysticism, awe, and aesthetics. He has also chosen
to go to tribes in the Amazon to help them construct wells powered by
solar energy.
So we can change even our most violent work places,
called prisons, into humane places of existence through a practice
called meditation. This practice calms the killer instincts in us and
allows our more compassionate, communitarian, and bonding selves to
emerge.
What if this kind of change in the work world were to
spread to businesses, academia, politics, economic institutions,
utilities, religions — in short to wherever humans work?
Such training ought to begin in grade schools.
Education ought to acknowledge that we have three brains, not just an
intellectual one. It ought to make room for creativity, and the essence
of education ought to be the proper disciplining and releasing of our
creative brains. Compassion begins in the heart with bonding (the
mammal brain), but compassion extends to all beings with the help of
the uniquely human intellectual/creative brain.
Instead, in all the political posturing I have listened
to about education, there seems to be one criteria: Who can promise the
most exams for our kids. Exams do not train the mind for creativity.
Education will not be renewed by more exams but by more focus on that
which is uniquely human — our capacity for creativity. The crocodile
brain, among other factors, is holding us back from our creativity. We
must tame it to get to both compassion and creativity.
Education for life We have to speak about
education when we speak about right livelihood because educated people
are destroying the Earth. Thomas Berry says most of the destruction of
the planet is being accomplished by people with PhDs. Mahatma Gandhi,
when his dream of freedom for his country was achieved, responded to
the question, “What do you fear most?” with this answer: “The cold
hearts of the educated citizens.”
Has contemporary, post-modern academia made any strides
in educating the cold heart and warming and melting it since Gandhi
spoke these words over 50 years ago? I am afraid not. The crocodile
brain is alive and well in most of academia — uncriticized and
unchecked. The education industry seems incapable of critiquing itself.
It needs alternative models.
This is why we started a new university in downtown
Oakland five years ago, one that is committed to bringing “universe”
back to university (i.e., cosmology as the center of the university)
and bringing creativity alive in the students. Our doctor of ministry
program focuses on bringing spirituality to the workplace. The 370
students who have joined the program in less than three years all feel
a common lack in their previous training. Whether they are engineers,
business people, scientists, mental health workers, therapists, clergy,
or artists, all are seeking spiritual practice and training. The most
radical and indispensable way to achieve right livelihood is to change
the way we train people for work. In our culture we call that
education.
It is not enough to find peace. One must also make
peace, and this cannot be done without justice. Spiritual practice and
ethics must go together. The purpose of meditation is not to make the
slavemaster more efficient, but to set in motion strategies and
alliances of equality.
Right livelihood came home to me in Salina, Kansas,
this past year, where I was visiting the Land Institute directed by
farmer Wes Jackson. What I love so much about Wes Jackson is that
behind that Methodist farmer's smile and sweet drawl there lies a wily,
radical, and committed prophet of a farmer. He believes that we have
been doing farming wrong for 10,000 years. Instead of turning the soil
over every year and thereby inviting erosion and loss of soil, he is
demonstrating that we could be farming by imitating the prairie, which
creates soil rather than destroying it.
Wes' critique of his own livelihood gives me — and I
hope the rest of us — permission to critique ours in an equally radical
manner. I ask: Have we been doing education wrong for 10,000 years?
Have we been doing religion wrong for 10,000 years? Have we been doing
business wrong for 10,000 years? How about journalism and the media? In
short, have we been doing work wrong for a long, long time?
Isn't it time to wake up? Time is running out. Our
species will not survive if we do not commit to sustainability in its
many forms — not only solar-driven energy sources but also solar-driven
(as distinct from reptilian-driven) consciousness. We need to learn to
breathe in and out the gift of healthy sunlight (which is literally the
air we breathe) and not take it for granted. We need to ground
ourselves, connecting to the Earth from which we come and to which we
shall all return.
The despoiling of the Earth is not only ecocide; it is
also suicide. The distractions we are fed daily by advertisers do not
substitute for laying out an agenda of needed work as distinct from
work that feeds greed and unsustainable consumerism. As Gandhi warned
us, “there is enough for everyone's need, not for everyone's greed.”
Right livelihood begins with need. It ends with celebration.
Matthew Fox is founder and president of the University of Creation Spirituality in Oakland, California,
co-chair of the Naropa University master's program in creation
spirituality, and author of several books, including The Reinvention of
Work.
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