The new year (which began really as the winter solstice passed in December) is traditionally a time for looking back and looking ahead but at a deeper level. New Year's resolutions are the most familiar expression now, and though they tend to be superficial and repetitive (hence the boom in weight loss and exercise products this month), they at least suggest this impulse to reevaluate and resolve.
Another way to look at it is to pause in the journey to reflect on it, and perhaps make more conscious use of our commitments and our guides. I recently saw what to me was an unusual interpretation of the Buddhist (also Hindu) concept of dharma, as "a particular purpose and work in the world that is unique to us and of benefit to others." For some of us, that purpose is defined and defining. For most of us, it is complex, multiple, ambiguous, hard to define even to ourselves. But we can define some of our guides on the journey, and hope the rest takes care of itself.
Three of my guides are represented here by concepts from other cultures, in other languages. The fourth is an American way. Though they are personal values, they govern my relationship with others: other people, other beings, others of any description I share this planet and this universe with, in my time.
Ahimsa is a Sanskrit word which literally means non-harming, the most basic Buddhist precept. Poet Gary Snyder, who studied Buddhism for many years, defines the concept as “do the least possible harm.” "Least possible" refers to contexts as well as physical limitations. So it is less restrictive than total non-violence, but it is broader in application. It means do the least possible harm to everything—not just humans but animals, plants and even rocks. It turns out to be an ecological as well as a moral principle. In life it means a change in assumptions—that is, think first before making a harmful change, not exactly second nature to western civilization. Personally it means being mindful, respecting the other, and sincerely evaluating whether causing harm is necessary. This is a key to the sacred attitude towards eating and other aspects of ordinary life that nevertheless have profound meaning.
Hozho is a concept from Navajo culture, part of the Beauty Way. A Navajo character in a Tony Hillerman novel explains it with an example: In times of drought the Hopi and some other cultures will pray for rain. But the Navajo do something else, based on a different approach to life. “The Navajo has the proper ceremony done to restore himself to harmony with the drought…. The system is designed to recognize what’s beyond human power to change, then to change the human’s attitude to be content with the inevitable.”
This does not eliminate trying to right wrongs, address problems, or change what needs to be changed. But where it applies, this concept is not only a profound act of humility, but a necessary human response of adjustment to reality. It’s something that other animals do instinctively—they find ways to cope with drought, for example. They adapt to the environment. Instead of being angry or frightened, or obsessing on things as unjust and taking them personally, people accept the conditions and work within them to make life better—by conserving water, for instance. Being in harmony is not easy. The Navajo ceremonies take days. But as a general principle, it only makes sense.
The third concept is Italian, and so part of my own Italian American culture. Sprezzatura can be defined in various ways, but it can come down to making a personal style part of life, an elegance that is natural and appears effortless. Tony Bennett applied it to music, but outwardly it can most often be seen in modes of dress. There are places where such expression is noticed and valued, but more places where it isn’t. But that doesn’t matter so much, because sprezzatura is an attitude, and expression (playfulness, authenticity) for its own sake. Or to quote another Italian saying: Niente senza gioia. Nothing without joy.
The fourth concept I regard as the basis for all community. It is expressed in the common phrase: "You'd do the same for me." It expresses not only a commitment but a confidence that this commitment is shared. It is a phrase of the people, by the people and for the people. Which brings us (in a way) back full circle to ahimsa.