Vandalism, and the practice of forgiveness

Outside the studio: mural as re-marked, Feb 2022

I've been contemplating whether to speak to this for a while. But since our front mural got tagged a second time this week, well, it's been a good prompt for 'Yes!'

The first of the Yamas, yogic observances outlined in Patanjali's Yoga Sutras, is ahimsa - non-harming, non-violence, or to reframe it, compassionate action. This applies to how we treat ourselves, and how we interact with our environment, with each other.

We each have an inherent right to belong, to be free from suffering, to be happy. This means we deserve such respect from ourselves, and each other. So in my books, creating uninvited marks on a mural created (collaboratively) to express and represent a space for community is certainly not aligned with ahimsa. Whether it was careless or intentional is less relevant: the action has led to suffering.

The Buddhist teachings emphasises this first and foremost: suffering is inevitable. It's easy to be gracious in response to generosity, fortune and good will. Yet when we meet suffering in the form of an unwanted painted surface, a physical or emotional intrusion, or any form of disrespect for one's boundaries and wellbeing - how can we choose actions and responses in a way which does not create suffering, or perpetuate harm?

In other words, how do we cultivate compassionate action, including when we do not receive it?

Sai, Wanissa and I with the co-created mural, Feb 2020

Dr Eva Eger, author, psychologist and one of the last living Holocaust survivors, speaks simply and with wisdom:

"Dont compare who suffers more... the question is not 'Why me?' But 'What now?'

Dwelling on discomfort or rage, or the unfairness of a situation (however true this is) invokes more despair. The more advanced practice is how we can still stay vigilant to what ahimsa evokes, and embody the action of compassion - inside and out - when we feel the urge to defend, attack or cower. Caged within anger or discomfort is fear; threaded into compassion is forgiveness.

Often, we do not act with forgiveness because we have not seen it modelled eloquently, or considered it as an act of integrity to ourselves. Forgiveness is not condoning what has happened, or letting the error be forgotten - not at all. Nor is forgiveness black and white - for there is a process, and many layers of letting go in between. However much it is released, forgiving frees our own experience from being enmeshed in rage, grief, or the many flavours of entanglement we may feel. Forgiveness allows us to distinguish the difference between someone's action, and their being. It emphasises the human nature of mistake-making, and our inherent capacity for goodness and for change - to one day to choose a path of more care.

Remember that fierceness is not apart from compassion, for true compassion requires the fire of action. We can be strong, and tender; dignified, and forgiving. Each requires the other to be truly expressed, and understood. Sometimes, corrective action is needed, yet this does not have to involve our own inner turmoil. If we spend our energy on harmful thoughts, it's a poison for ourselves, and a futile use of precious attention which can be funneled towards creativity instead.

Sometimes it is truly difficult to bring a sense of gentleness to a situation which seems unforgivable: there are far more grievous and harmful acts than vandalising a wall. It takes time to move through all the sensations of experience. And for all the times we cannot forgive yet, we can hold the intention to be non-harming. To trust that with practice, we too can dip into the cool river of letting go.

This intention is beautifully expressed by Larry Yang, in his book Awakening Together:

May I be as loving in this moment as possible.
If I cannot be loving in this moment,
may I be kind;
If I cannot be kind,
may I be nonjudgmental;
If I cannot be nonjudgmental,
may I not cause harm;
And if I cannot not cause harm,
may I cause the least amount of harm possible.

So if you find yourself in the grip of a heated situation, or inner tug-o-war - you are never alone. Yes, feel the grief, feel the rage, feel the confusion, feel the 'Grrrr!' towards actions we cannot condone. Let the energy of these emotions through. Digest, be nourished by the lessons, and let the weight go.

Our time here together is far too precious - and personally, I'd much rather not play mimicry with Sisyphus.

All that to say, I'm seeing this as a new opportunity to shed the last couple of years of topsy-turvy (this mural was created on 22 February 2020, just before the first Melbourne lockdown). A new chance to explore and express, in a refreshed way, what this community means to me.

I'd love your help in doing so: stay tuned for a collaborative invitation to come.

Thoughts on the above?

Please do leave us a comment below, or email away - this is a conversation we can all benefit from exploring more - not just leaving it up to the Grace Tame’s of the world to voice courage and care.

x Lucy