I learned something fascinating recently: The idea male and female wolves compete to become dominant within packs is inaccurate. This competition only occurs in zoos and not in the wild. In 1944, Rudolph Shenkel, a biologist, first observed this behavior of vying for dominance in wolves at a German zoo but in the subsequent years, David Mech studied wolves in the artic and found wolf packs are families. In other words, the “alpha male” is the dad and the “alpha female” is the mom. The rest of the pack follows their lead because they’re the offspring, not because they fought a battle and lost.
While I find this little tidbit interesting, what intrigues me more is why the idea of the alpha male and female continues to percolate in our society. I think it’s because we want to use nature as an excuse for why we do the things we do and in a patriarchal, capitalistic society, an alpha is paramount.
In a patriarchal society, men and so-called masculine traits are at the top of the hierarchy. Under patriarchy, we value strength, power, and force. The strongest, most powerful are lauded and anyone or anything considered weak and feeble is disparaged. Men are at the top of the ladder and women are at the bottom, but it’s a continuum so while men who are perceived as more feminine are looked down upon, they are still above women in the power structure.
No alphas. Only parents. Photo by Thomas Bonometti on Unsplash
Through that lens, of course the idea of an alpha male is appealing because an alpha male is the epitome of what we praise under patriarchy. Capitalism feeds into the idea of the alpha because under capitalism, there’s the idea only one person can be in charge. Capitalism operates under a scarcity model – if there’s more for you, there’s less for me. That applies to not only money but power, resources, you name it.
We try to point to nature to say, “See? What we’re doing is only natural,” but over and over again, nature shows us collaboration is the name of the game. For instance, neighboring trees help each other through their root systems either directly, by intertwining their roots, or indirectly, by growing fungal networks around the roots that serve as a sort of extended nervous system. German forester Peter Wohlleben said, “If every tree were looking out only for itself, then quite a few of them would never reach old age.”
Also, bonobo females make lasting friendships and don’t tolerate aggressive males; the friendliest bonobos are always the ones with the most offspring. Ants and bees work together to make colonies and hives. I could keep going because examples of collaboration are endless. Instead of saying what we humans are doing is natural, it’s time to recognize we’re the anomaly. If we want to thrive as a species, we must cooperate with one another.
To quote my spiritual teacher, “Only the cooperative system can ensure the healthy, integrated progress of humanity, and establish complete and everlasting unity among the human race. People should work to enjoy sweeter fruits by establishing the cooperative system.”
Let’s enjoy those sweet fruits and start by retiring the mode of living like an alpha. Instead, let’s continue to take our cues from wolves and live like a universal family.
I dream of a world where we recognize the idea of an alpha male and an alpha female has outlived its usefulness. A world where we understand nature shows us over and over again that to survive and thrive we’re better off cooperating with one another. A world where we continue cooperating because we care about the progress of ourselves and the rest of humanity.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A few days ago, I visited Mount Rainier National Park for the first time with my parents. Doing so, now I understand the hype about the Pacific Northwest in the summer. It was gorgeous – the mountain views, the lakes, the wildflowers. It took my breath away (sometimes literally as I huffed and puffed up the mountain).
I noticed as we drove back to Seattle where my parents live, I felt sad and a little disgusted. We went from mountains in the distance to skyscrapers. We traded in wildflowers dotting the landscape to shopping malls. After so much beauty, my nervous system started reeling and I wanted to make civilization and cars “bad” or “wrong” while trees and wildflowers were “good” or “right.” Except, how does that serve me?
I know these days our society is all about polarization as well as black and white thinking. You’re either right or you’re wrong. You’re either sane or delusional. We keep speaking in absolutes but that’s not reality. Reality is nuanced. You can be a little bit right and a little bit wrong. In the case of civilization being “wrong,” civilization also spells amenities like schools, hospitals, and libraries. Those are good things. And in the case of Mount Rainier being “right,” living there also means being buried under snow from about mid-October to mid-May. That doesn’t sound so great. Nowhere is a utopia. Nowhere is perfect.
I mean honestly. Look at this! Photo by Gabriel Phipps on Unsplash
Instead of labeling one thing as good and another thing as bad, I think about a practice that’s touted in my spiritual philosophy: madhuvidyá. Madhuvidyá literally means “honey knowledge” and requires seeing everything, EVERYTHING, as an expression of an infinite loving consciousness, also known as Brahma. That means trash on the street, cigarette butts, and yes, even people who do terrible things, are an expression of Brahma. As you can imagine, this practice is HARD.
However, my spiritual teacher says, “If you properly follow madhuvidyá you can keep yourself aloof from the shackles of actions even though you perform actions. This madhuvidyá will pervade your exterior and interior with … [ecstasy] and will permanently alleviate all your afflictions. Then the ferocious jaws of [degeneration] cannot come and devour you. The glory of one and only one benign entity will shine forth to you from one and all objects.”
The practice of madhuvidyá also creates peace, in my experience. It creates acceptance that yes, even this thing I don’t like or perhaps even hate is an expression of an infinite loving consciousness. Practicing madhuvidyá means I’m able to see beyond the surface of people, places, and things to witness their true form. I’m able to recognize everything is Brahma, Cosmic Consciousness, Source, the Universe, whatever name you have for it. And just as the name madhuvidyá suggests, that makes life sweeter.
I dream of a world where we understand everything is a little bit good and everything is a little bit bad. A world where we recognize even things we find distasteful are also an expression of an infinite loving consciousness. A world where we do our best to practice madhuvidyá and see things as they really are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
All week when people have asked me how I am, I’ve responded, “I feel like I’m in the fertile soil, in the dark, waiting to sprout.” Small things are happening in my life and I’m doing my best to honor the power of change in increments, like I wrote about last week. But it’s tough to be here, in the waiting. It reminds me of a piece by Mark Nepo called “The Courage of the Seed.” He writes:
“All the buried seeds crack open in the dark,
the instant they surrender to a process they can’t see.
What a powerful lesson is the beginning of spring.
All around us, everything small and buried surrenders to a process that none of the buried parts can see.
And this innate surrender allows everything edible and fragrant to break ground into a life we call spring.
In nature, we are quietly given countless models of how to give ourselves over to what appears dark and hopeless, but which is ultimately an awakening beyond all imagining.
As a seed buried in the earth cannot imagine itself as an orchid or hyacinth, neither can a heart packed with hurt imagine itself loved or at peace. The courage of the seed is that once cracking, it cracks all the way.”
I wouldn’t say I’m a seed that’s cracked all the way. In fact, I’m not even sure I’ve started cracking, but I can say I identify with a seed buried in earth. I don’t know what the heck is happening in my life. I feel muddled, confused. I’m not sure what to do, how to act. I could spend the rest of this blogpost using synonyms for “opaque” and they’d all apply. However, one thing I do know is I’m surrendering to a process I cannot see.
I’m clear there is a process and I have a higher power that’s guiding me, providing for me, taking care of me. I know that just because things are fuzzy doesn’t mean they’re stagnant. My sponsor says something to me a lot because, well, it’s usually appropriate for my life. It’s something to the effect of, “God moves slow but He’s always on time. And when it’s time He moves fast so be ready.” That’s my life in a nutshell. Slow, slow, slow, BAM. Full speed ahead! Go, go, go! It’s easier for me to be in the “go, go, go” phase rather than the “slow, slow, slow” phase but they’re both a part of life. After all, just look at a seed. Or something even closer: a heartbeat.
A heart acts like a pump, suctioning blood and then pushing it out. There is a steady rhythm of movement then pause then movement then pause. My spiritual teacher says, “And this pulsation, that is movement through speed and pause, is an essential factor for each and every animate or inanimate object. Wherever there is existential factor there must be this pulsation. An entity acquires strength and stamina during the pause phase, and emanates vibration during the speed period. There cannot however, be any absolute speed or absolute pause in the created world.”
So this is me, in another pause phase. In another “seed buried in the soil” phase, just waiting to sprout. And I will, eventually.
I dream of a world where we remember the essential nature of life, the heartbeat thrumming through us all that reminds us to pause, then act, then pause. A world where we realize we can’t have all speed or all pause. A world where we take comfort in the fertile soil of our lives knowing at some point we’ll sprout.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I keep thinking about the murders in Atlanta and what I can personally do other than what I’ve already done, which is to donate and speak out. What came to mind is writing on worldview. How you view the world is how you act in the world. If other people are less than, inferior, objects that exist solely for your pleasure, then it’s not hard to murder them or hurt them in some other way. The reverse is also true: If other people are equal to you, fellow human beings that have the same needs that you do, you’ll treat them with respect. Furthermore, the reality is we all need each other, we all have something special to give.
This concept is illustrated so beautifully in Gary Ferguson’s book The Eight Master Lessons of Nature. He writes about how each wildflower has its own strength that contributes to the whole. Some wildflowers have deeper roots that help them survive during drought periods and others have waxy leaves that allow them to contain moisture.
Variety is the spice of life for nature too! Photo by Gaston Roulstone on Unsplash
Every flower has a different survival strategy and together they keep the ecosystem flourishing. If all the flowers on a steep mountain slope perish, the soil would erode, the butterflies would flee, the elk would wander away, and the area would become a dead zone. Living among diversity is what keeps the area healthy. In other words, homogeneity spells death. That’s true not only for plants, but for humans too.
My spiritual teacher says:
“You should remember that human life is not like a single flower; it is like a bouquet or a garden of flowers blooming with many varieties of flowers. And this variety of blossoms adds to the collective beauty of the garden. Had there been only magnolia graniflora or one variety of rose only blooming in the garden, although that single flower might be very attractive, still the garden as a whole would not be very lovely. A garden is all the more beautiful because of the flowers of various types and hues.
“Similarly, we human beings must also move forward while maintaining a harmonious adjustment among all the diverse aspects of individual and collective life. We must discover unity in the midst of colorful diversity. Not only will we realize this in the future, we are realizing it even today, and thus we have been able to consolidate even our limited power. And you know that even a little power, if consolidated, becomes stronger than even a mighty force.”
We are stronger together and we are stronger diversified. There’s room not only for one kind of person, but for all people. And instead of trying to assert dominance of one group or another, let’s reminder that all of us together are what keep this planet and our society alive.
I dream of a world where we treasure the contributions that we each make. A world where we value diversity. A world where we understand we are stronger because of it. A world where we remember what the wildflowers teach us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I spent my formative years in the mountains of North Carolina. A place so rural I couldn’t see our closest neighbors and people burned their trash or buried it because trash pickup didn’t exist and they couldn’t be bothered to head to the dump. I used to take walks on the mountain behind our house and brush snow off the limbs of the tree saplings because I worried they would bow under the weight. It was a pretty existence, but also a lonely one.
Being in the country, I yearned for the hustle and bustle of the city. The people, the activity, the culture. Give me the complete opposite of what I experienced growing up. It’s no surprise I’ve spent my adulthood in one city after another: Washington, D.C., London, San Francisco. I started to disparage the charms of nature, associating it with boredom and isolation. But then something funny happened. As I hit my Saturn return, a time when a person heals all of their childhood stuff and really comes into their own as an adult, I found myself wanting to be outside again. I wanted to walk among the trees and brush snow off the limbs of saplings. Cities started to become symbols for all that’s wrong in the world. Places filled with destruction, selfishness, greed. Places that brought out the absolute worst in humanity.
This picture! How could I not use this? Beautiful.
I started to hate cities, even though I live in one. I started to look upon all that the city offers with disgust, viewing every piece of trash and graffiti as a personal affront. Give me nature and beauty and the great outdoors. My life though is all about integration and learning the middle way, so now I’m coming to love both nature and cities. To see the benefits of both. Last night I saw “Arcane,” a contemporary ballet in San Francisco. It was stunning. My inner child exclaimed with joy and wonder and I was reminded, there are great things about the city. There is art and music and connection. There are things in the city that I cannot find in nature.
Originally, this post was going to be about how nature is awesome. How it can improve your outlook, and your focus, plus strengthen your immunity. But really what this post is about is finding beauty in all things. Understanding no person, place, or thing is all good or all bad. That everything has its pluses and minuses.
One of the things I love about my spiritual path is how it emphasizes that everything is God and everything comes from God. That means nature is the divine and cities are the divine and emotions are the divine. We cannot escape God nor can we find God because that’s like saying we found air – air was there all along, we just didn’t realize it or weren’t still enough to feel it.
What I’m coming to understand is the importance of embracing everything, of accepting everything, of allowing everything. The more I do that, the more I move past duality and start seeing everything as an expression of an infinite, loving consciousness. The more I do that, the more I’m also able to embrace all parts of myself and experience what unconditional self-love really means. And there’s nothing more beautiful than that.
I dream of a world where we embrace all that is. A world where we understand everything has its pros and cons and no person, place, or thing is perfect. A world where instead of looking for perfection, we accept things as they are because we are able to see the beauty in everything.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I know “the invisible hand” usually refers to Adam Smith’s notion of self-regulation in the economic marketplace, but in this sense I mean an invisible hand in terms of a guiding presence, a benevolent force.
As many of you know, I moved out of my beloved apartment in January because I wasn’t able to sleep at night. Months later I’ve still been upset by it because like I said, I really loved that place. I knew why I moved out on a practical level (no sleep, raucous neighbors, a pulsing noise), but I wanted to know the metaphysical reason. I wanted to know why the universe constructed it so I had to leave.
I finally found out.
I’m a part of Alerts SF, which is a municipal alert system that texts me when there are road closures or gas leaks, that sort of thing. Several days ago they texted me saying there was a road closure on Post two blocks down from where I lived due to police activity. According to this news article, police shot and killed a suspect who opened fire on police officers during a standoff. The suspect was contacted because he had a connection to a homicide investigation and then he shot at the police when they arrived. Nearly two dozen shots were fired.
The manager of my old building said our street had gotten rougher and this news report confirmed it. This event happened literally two blocks down from where I used to live. You may have noticed, but I’m very sensitive. I am not able to tolerate lower vibrations, especially where I live. So I can’t help thinking, that’s why I moved. I moved because the invisible hand that guides my life saw all this coming and pushed me out for my safety and happiness.
Now? I pass by trees on my walk home from BART or the bus. There is no graffiti on the main walkways. There is no one accosting me. There is only peace and quiet. And nature. That’s the other thing.
Today I went for a hike on Mount Tamalpais with a friend of mine.
This is a close approximation of what we saw today.
Coming back to the city was rough. For the first time, maybe ever, I realized I want to live near more greenery. That I wasn’t quite ready to come back to civilization. What struck me is that’s exactly where I’m living now. The other day I meditated on pine needles while surrounded by fennel, birds chirping, and shrubs. The invisible hand guided me to where I live now, which I didn’t even know I’d want because like I said, until today I didn’t know how much I missed trees. Often I don’t understand why things happen the way they do, but eventually I find out. And when I do, I’m always struck by how there’s a benevolent force in my life. How I may not like what’s happening in my life but it’s always in my best interest. I’m touched by how someone, somewhere, is looking out for me.
I dream of a world where we all have an invisible hand guiding our lives. A world where we are pushed to better places, people, and things. A world where we know we are being taken care of each and every day. A world where we understand everything really does happen for a reason.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.