The Vase

Almost three years ago, an elderly holy man and artist I was acquainted with was disposing of artwork and artifacts he had created or acquired during many years of supporting poor and disenfranchised people in Central America.  While I too am in the process of scaling back, I wanted something to keep as a reminder of this man’s generous and creative life. With this in mind, a friend and I visited him at his home in Connecticut, on a beautiful Sunday morning in the early fall of 2018. True to our hopes, each of us came away from the visit with a remembrance and a treasure. Mine is a very unusual vase, carved from beautiful wood. It stands about 15 inches high and has a delicate shape. At the time, what attracted me most to the vase was its tapering neck which arises from a base that is in decomposition.  It reflects, I think, the beauty of the natural world rooted in organic change and loss. I placed this beautiful and unusual vase on a shelf in my living room where it remained until recently; it has continuously revealed previously unnoticed markings, and on a deeper level, drawn me toward insights into the complexity that characterizes life and the world we live in.

Warm Data

This observation connects me to the work of the complexity thinker Nora Bateson, whose work regarding Warm Data I first heard of through a conversation within a New Republic of the Heart break-out session some months ago. Bateson’s work asks the question, “How can we improve our perception of the complexity we live within, so we may improve our interaction with the world?”

According to Bateson, Warm Data is information that lies beyond cold facts and includes all that the heart knows and is tending to about life situations as they intersect and interact. She has developed a methodology for engaging people with each other as a form of practice that is aimed at enhancing one’s capacity for making the kind of decisions that today’s complex world invites. Critical to the methodology is establishing transcontextual frames for holding conversations, for example, looking at a question using art, nature, and psychology as the transcontextual frame. Ideally, the conversations are held face-to-face.

With my interest piqued, via Zoom I joined an international series of training sessions about using Warm Data in conversations. Because the group meets only once a month, I would like to be able to practice what I am learning in real face-to-face conversations between sessions. However, in this time of pandemic and limited possibilities for interacting directly with others, I have let my vase challenge me to think, at least, in WarmData terms. In other words, day by day, I am trying to think of the vase within a transcontextual range, remaining attentive to what my heart is noticing.

Following are two of the connections I have become aware of in this gentle process.

The Eye

High in the middle of the decomposing area of the vase I see in its markings an eye;  In the past, in other contexts, my attention has been drawn regularly to the symbolism of the eye. Now though, I had a strong sense that there was something new and different presenting itself, a  question being posed, waiting to be answered. This intuition was confirmed when I listened to the State of Emergence podcast featuring Karine Bell. Immediately I recognized the significance of the question posed by Bell, What have I had my eye on, always? Instantly I had a sense of synchronicity. This question has been troubling me at the edge of my consciousness for months, albeit without finding clear formulation.  Also, I am approaching a significant birthday. Such an occasion gives rise to examining one’s life, to see clearly what the trajectory has been and what remains to be done. This then, is what I see:  I have been drawn to the holy all my life in ever changing expressions, aligned with my experiences and insights. Succinctly said, I have had my eye on the sacred, always. I feel pleasure and deepest joy in this realization.

According to Nora Bateson, it is essential to become aware of patterns, and patterns within patterns, in order to make the best possible decisions about complex life situations. I can see how the central pattern of my life has spawned other interrelated and more and more complex patterns. Now what remains is to make the best possible decisions about my life going forward undergirded by its fundamental pattern.

The Shadow

At the beginning of the summer I spent a little time fussing with the décor of my apartment. In my fiddling, I removed the vase from the shelf where I had previously placed it and put it down on a table. Right away, I was taken aback by the shadow cast on the wall behind the vase. My surprise was caused by the fact that for a long time I had tried to determine what I could place on the wall in that space. I could never quite figure out what belonged there.  It seemed now that the shadow belonged there. Furthermore, it invited interpretation.

In his podcast with Terry Patten, Charles Eisenstein spoke of giving “attention to what has been cast into shadow.” It seems to me that the invitation is to shed as much light as I can on the shadow of racism as it exists within myself. While I am only a novice in applying Warm Data thinking, I will attend to its framework keeping multiple contexts in mind. This is important because of the interplay of racism with various aspects of society, as in health, justice, employment. This means practicing thinking in a manner that takes into account the complexity underlying racism, ultimately, in order to be of benefit to society.

In the State of Emergence podcasts I found thinking that I had not come into contact with previously. I admired the way Charles Eisenstein refers to our common humanity and the fundamental and age-old  insight of relating with all persons lovingly, without patronizing anyone, without hidden agendas, with authenticity, as manifestation of the sacred essence of the world. I found this refreshing and beautiful. I found a similar note in Spring Washam’s podcast. She urges everyone to do their racism work as best they can, with compassion and determination. Both Washam and Karine Bell speak of creating spaces where the traumas of racism can be processed safely. They emphasize that because the wounds caused by racism to Black people and to White people are different, it is acceptable, and sometimes necessary, to meet separately, as Black people or White people, to do our processing and begin the work of recovery. In Gibrán Rivera’s podcast I was touched by the words “forward facing remembering.” In each of these podcasts I found energy as well as new learning. I did not expect this when I set out to explore the shadow on my wall.

Representative John Robert Lewis

The vase has spoken of other points that flow from Warm Data thinking, but for now, I complete this reflection. It is the day of the funeral of Representative John Robert Lewis. Lewis was a man drawn to the sacred, who was faithful to the pattern of his life in its expanding manifestations. He was able to bring spiritual, judicial, and political conviction to the decisions of society. He is part of the gentle process that shows our human possibilities, especially in this time of heightened racial tensions and the need to think with depth and act with knowledge and wisdom. He knew what he had his eye on, always.

On the afternoon of Memorial Day, May 25, 2020, I sat down at my sewing machine to make a wall hanging  from a piece of cotton fabric I bought last fall at an international bazaar. At the time I did not know how the death of George Floyd, in Minneapolis that same day, would relate to what I was doing. Nor did I have any inkling of the interior reckoning I was about to undergo.

Much of my adult life was spent working in other countries. On the occasions when I was back in the US, I thought that if I were not working overseas, I would want to be engaged in the Civil Rights struggle at home. However in those years,  my focus was definitely overseas, and I never considered what I would actually do or how I would be in the work for racial justice in the US. Certainly, my exposure to African Americans was limited; nevertheless, I was completely opposed to the oppression they so obviously lived. From the periphery, I cheered on every indication of apparent progress in their social and political journey. It is only in recent years that I began to suspect that I, Ann Marie Braudis, bear responsibility for their oppression. At first, I did not examine this insight too carefully. However over time, it occurred to me that there were several things I could do to better understand what I was sensing. I decided to:

• Visit the new National Museum of African American History, in Washington DC.
• Go to the birthplace of Martin Luther King, Jr, and the Ebenezer Baptist Church, in Atlanta, Georgia
• Remember Bloody Sunday in 1965, by walking over the Edmund Pettus Bridge, near Selma, Alabama

I enlisted the help of friends and relatives to execute my plan. I would make my first trip in the fall of 2019 and continue in the spring of 2020.

A good friend  and I made the trip to DC, in November; she principally to visit friends and I to visit the  African American Museum. While the entire trip was wonderful, the visit to the museum was profound. I felt deeply grateful for it and for the warm companionship of my friend, who accompanied me to the museum.

One could not help but be impacted by the extensive exhibits touching on every aspect of Black life in America, starting with the forced rupture from life in Africa and the ordeal of crossing the sea in terrifying and degrading circumstances.  I felt shame. I also felt admiration for all that African Americans have overcome and, in turn, contributed to America and to the world, particularly in the fields of spirituality, science, music, dance, entertainment and sports.

In terms of taking responsibility for the oppression of African Americans, I did not gain clarity in an academic sense, but I knew that it was right to make this effort, to go on this trip, to have this experience.

After this, the novel virus started and my plan to go to Georgia and Alabama in the spring had to be postponed.

Meanwhile, I bought the fabric mentioned above, which is from Tanzania, in Africa, and depicts a scene of women and children walking one behind the other balancing baskets and jugs on their heads.  It appealed to me for several reasons; the colors are gorgeous, the scene is ordinary and exotic, and I like simple art and crafts from faraway places.  Also, it relates to my current interest in Americans of African heritage. I looked forward to making a wall hanging from the fabric for my living room for the summer months.

It was late on Memorial Day when I finally got started on my project of transforming the fabric into a wall hanging. I had a strong sense of presence to the sacred and decided to make my work a ritual, symbolic of inner transformation. I opened my ritual by lighting a candle inviting light into my mind, soul, and body. The central act of the ritual was consciously transforming the fabric into something new and beautiful, which included measuring, cutting, pinning, lining, ironing, and sewing. After many hours of work, I concluded my ritual by hanging the transformed fabric on the wall. It seemed exactly right!  Already it was late in the evening and I decided to wait until the next day to decide which complementary objects I would place on the table beneath the wall hanging. It was approximately the time of George Floyd’s cruel death while in police custody, which I learned of the following day.

The three weeks that have since passed seem like one endless nightmare highlighting the ongoing ruthless and crushing treatment of African Americans.

At the same time, I have a great sense of relief that the marches, demonstrations and prayer vigils that have been transpiring all over the country in response to the death of George Floyd seem to be spontaneously inclusive of people of all races. This feels like a civilizational shift and reminds me of my experience at the African American Museum where I was amazed at the great crowd of people, from every state, from all over the world and of every racial variation. At the time, this mix of humanity, all touched by the same pain and desirous of a better future, struck a chord that vibrated strongly within me.

Nevertheless, I am aware of the hard work that lies ahead by way of enshrining in American law and policy the rights of all people. However, I am encouraged and hopeful that things can change. I think that for white Americans change has to be rooted in personal grappling with uncomfortable realizations. For me, the hardest has been realizing that my personal sense of security and my moral assumptions are tied to religious beliefs. When I was a child, my Aunt May, the matriarch of our family and a deeply religious person, often said, I thank God every day that I was born white. In me this simply led to the unquestioned conclusion that to be white is to be blessed, favored by God.

These past weeks have offered me the opportunity of looking at the way this thread has played out in my life and what I need to do now. I have reached the following conclusions:

• I need to detach myself from the lifelong, undisturbed sense of whiteness being a blessing.
• I cannot help but look at my trip to DC and my other planned trips as expressions of privilege. I will eventually go to Georgia and Alabama; however, I am at least slightly changed, aware that to want to have an experience that will help me to understand another’s grief and ongoing bondage stems from personal privilege.
• The inner framing of my personal narrative will have to change.
• This is soul work. I hope and pray that by engaging it, my perceptions will begin to change and that I will know how to harmonize my actions with my perceptions.
• I will join and actively participate in the organization Repairers of the Breach, led by Dr. William Barber.

Terry Patten’s book A New Republic of the Heart  has a line that I love, and which has many applications. I quote it here in an aspirational sense.

“When we stand for something wholeheartedly, our whole way of being becomes congruent with it, and we actually do enact it.”  (154)

Finally, I found a black and white candle for the table under the wall hanging.

Beside the candle I placed  my treasured book with photos from the Hubble Telescope, as this seems to hold the mystery and the beauty of the evolutionary journey we are all on.

I added my photo album recounting my personal story.

Now I have added the Higher Ground Moral Declaration, by Dr. William Barber. This is an intelligent and integral plan for emerging from our present darkness into a new and brighter time. I find it hopeful, possibly transformational.

Outside my work-space windows there is a view of trees; trees that are beautiful now in mid-June, in New York, where I live. I am used to noticing these trees late in the day framed against the afterglow of the sunset, in the northwestern sky. This morning though, I saw the trees differently, reflected in the windowpane on the opposite wall. Absentmindedly, I looked up and there were the trees reflected with their aura on full display in the glass. I was completely taken with the beauty of what I was seeing, with the joy of seeing more than I usually see. Almost immediately, I thought of the New Republic of the Heart Community, where we encourage each other to see more, to be attentive to new perceptions and what they mean and how they draw us forward.

Later in the morning, wondering if there were something more to be gleaned from this experience, I recalled that it was the aura of many trees together that so impacted me. So it is with us:

• Together we find our way.
• Together we engender strength.
• Together we consciously enjoin our evolutionary becoming.
• Together we heal the Earth
• Together we make beauty.

Now as evening falls, I pray that as the trees give life-saving breath to the whole Earth, we too may be givers of life-saving breath to each other and to the whole Earth

Rosh Hashanah has just now begun. Tonight I feel connected with the values and aspirations of the Jewish people over the centuries. May this new year bring them closer to all they yearn for in truth and in light.

A few days back, Terry Patten said, “So let’s help one another evolve our relationship to change and loss and grief and resilience.” It’s hard not to feel bogged down and disheartened by what is happening in our country. Truly, together we must claim our resilience and do everything we can to forge a new cultural moment.

After days and days of rain accompanied by lots of worrisome political news, today is spectacular. My energy is up and I’m full of plans for the day.

I keep finding things from my friend that need to be attended to; this has made me acutely aware of personal things needing attention. So, I used these past gloomy days to give a bit more order to my files – now I’m glad this is done😊.

Later today, there will be a live online connection with the New Republic of the Heart (NRH) group. I’m looking forward to spending time preparing as well as the session itself. So grateful for the affinity I share with this group, for the inspiration I feel.

Today’s session of the online community was excellent. I particularly liked the invitation to join two other members to share our personal statements of intention. I didn’t expect this as I’m only auditing the course – so a good and unexpected opportunity. We were three persons sharing for about 20 minutes. I admire the deep and sincere spiritual engagement of my two group members. Sincere, no one on stage.

It’s been six weeks since my friend died. I thought I was just beginning to feel like myself; now I realize that the strain has eased and I’m more relaxed but that something in me is deeply changed – irreversibly, I think and hope.

On March 19, a dear friend and co-community member died, leaving me with a very heavy heart. I had known her for a long time and had become close during the last 18 months of her life as she faced one crisis after another. We were very different from each other. She had a large spirit and expansive manner. I am more retiring.

We lived near each other and I felt drawn to accompany her as much on her terms as possible as her health declined and other heart aches beset her. Years ago, while working in the Philippines, I experienced a remarkable and tender quality of the people. They always accompany each other completely in times of hardship and sorrow. As my friend faced painful decline, sorrow and loss, it became more and more clear to me that I now needed to live what I so admired in the Filipinos. In its deepest sense this became a profound experience in kenosis. Admittedly, I became quite drained. Nevertheless, I have only the deepest gratitude for the privilege of journeying to the end with my friend.

I’ve started blogging because I’m auditing the program led by Terry Patten related to his book, The New Republic of the Heart. While I cannot commit to joining the Zoom conversations, I want to try to put my thinking, my hopes, forward.