We have been thinking about outreach into Buddhist communities in the UK, to find out how other Buddhists are experiencing the climate and ecological emergency and how they are responding to that in their practises and actions. There is a lot we can learn by listening to other people. We expect many Buddhists in different traditions are concerned by the suffering of the Earth. As we think about preparing for the road to COP 26 in November 2021 we have been researching who the Buddhists are in the UK to consider who we are talking to – and who we aren’t.
We have created a couple of charts and tables using data provided by the Office for National Statistics from the 2011 census. To see them click here GoogleDoc
I saw a photo of a striking walking meditation shared on Facebook. It was an XR Buddhist action in Boston in the United States. I reached out and asked them if they had any more images, and could share some words about their actions. Jan Surry responded:
“The experience of walking mindfully in silence. The challenge of doing nonconventional action requires strong concentration on each step. Touching the Earth. Standing and walking together to remember and share our deep focus on the climate emergency and on climate justice. It feels good to stand up together and walk for what’s important.
Ringing the mindfulness bell in public – wake up! Join us in our deep care and compassionate action.
We hand out a card which describes climate injustice and how XR is working for justice and climate change. We practice silently sending Metta to each person we encounter. A silent heart offering to acknowledge the suffering each of us and all our children and grandchildren will know.
Our care for all beings generates our action. This meditative practice is very powerful.”
XR Buddhists are keen to spread the word about the work that we do, and to welcome new people to our group. We had the idea of starting a monthly “induction” session where newcomers could come along and meet some of us, find out what we do, and how you can get involved.
We want to make these sessions interesting and relevant so have created a survey to see what people would find helpful for us to include. So, if these sessions might be of interest to you – you might be new to XR Buddhists or just haven’t made it to any events yet – please complete the survey by November 15th if you can. It’s just 4 questions and should take about 5minutes. Thank you
As I cycle towards Parliament Square, fond memories of past vigils come to mind- particularly of a chilly february morning at the lent interfaith vigil, and of the rebellion vigil.
When I arrive at the Vigil, there are 8 of us, some familiar and some new faces. This is the first Friday for this vigil, but a group called ‘Westminster Rebellion’ is organising a rota so that different XR groups are present at parliament every day the parliament sits, until COP26. Originally COP26 was supposed to happen this November in Glasgow, but then it got postponed November 2021 at the beginning of the pandemic – the conference centre in Glasgow is now a temporary hospital on stand-by for people suffering from Covid.
But back to Parliament Square. The faith vigil, which is happening mostly online at the moment, is being held in front of Westminster on Fridays, and today I am part of it. After freezing in February, I have come prepared this time. It turns out my many layers are not needed as it’s actually a mild day, the sun is coming out for a bit to greet us, it seems.
Sitting there we do attract some curiosity from passers-by. Some people are walking past, slowing down, looking. When I am not meditating I am trying to make eye contact. A few are stopping to talk to us, either in support or because they have questions.
I am actually doing a good chunk of meditation that afternoon, then I take a break and get into a conversation with a fellow vigiler. We talk about how this is different to meditating for example in front of a police line at a roadblock. Is this an effective action? We are not causing disruption today, but we are working with our minds in meditation, and sending a powerful signal – about unity as an interfaith vigil, and about the importance of acting on climate change.
Photo by Melanie Nazareth
I think for a while I used to run away from interfaith things, weary of difficult conversations about past and present injustices. But I have come to realise that people that are part of a faith or spiritual tradition often have a kind of superpower. At least that’s how I think about it now. Our actions come from a place of very deep conviction, or faith, and we also have the power of being part of a community. And when we come together, we do send a powerful signal of unity in divided times.
And then COP26. People say a major factor will be the next US government. But that’s not within my sphere of influence, so I keep focussing on what I can influence. And that’s why we sit here and meditate. And protest. And have conversations.
Reflecting that night at home I am being reminded of a sequence of offerings sometimes used for the mandala offering practice.
The outer offering, what other people can see, is us sitting there outside Westminster – a reminder to the government to act on climate change.
The inner offering, my sense experience, is one of calm and non-violence.
The secret offering, what this means to me, unity and non-separation.
I’m standing on a green in front of Euston Station on a grey October day. Around and above me are the majestic old plane trees so characteristic of London’s green spaces. Unfortunately, this space is due to be converted into a taxi rank to make way for the new High Speed Rail (HS2) depot extension.
One of the tree protestors tells me that he’s been up in the trees for 35 days and that he’s prepared to stay there for as long as it takes. He’s originally from Rumania, energetic, articulate, and clearly knows the tree climbing business (he says he can also dig tunnels if he needs to). So far the tree protesters have been left alone by the police but this is going to change when they start wanting to cut down the trees. The Euston site is only one of the many sites along the HS2 route being occupied by protestors trying to stop the destruction of ancient woodlands. The previous week I was at Jones Hill Wood near Wendover, where protestors were camping in the trees and in tunnels, holding out against the aggressive National Eviction Team in miserably damp muddy conditions. The trees there are nothing less than majestic: huge beech and oak trees soaring into the sky. I know it’s cowardly but I’m glad not to be there as they are put to the chain saw, which is likely to be very soon.
Jones Wood
In Euston the XR drummers start up with their instantly energising and compelling beat, and we troop off up the road to Euston plaza to hand out leaflets. There’s a great little playlette put on by 3 witches who mix a (vegan) brew in their cauldron to magically instill sanity into the decision makers for HS2. I fervently hope it does the job.
HS2 is a high-speed rail line starting from Euston. The first stage goes to Birmingham and then it branches off to other northern stations such as Leeds and Manchester. It will cut 20 minutes off the journey time from London to Birmingham, and in the process the route will wreck 683 local wildlife sites 33 SSSI’s and damage or destroy 108 irreplaceable ancient woodlands. The estimated cost is £127 billion (yes billion!). It’s been condemned by a range of environmental organisations such as CPRE RSPB and the Woodland Trust who have described it as ‘environmentally devastating’. HS2 is surely the epitome of the grand old infrastructure project that should have been consigned to the history books long ago. Like a nuclear power station or a motorway, it is a massively expensive project that could be easily discarded in favour of cheaper simpler and less environmentally damaging options. Protesters want the money to be used to improve the existing lines and build or improve local transport options, at a fraction of the cost.
I leave Euston in awe of the protestors determination skill and bravery. The protest continues. If you’d like to contribute or find more information please go to the website here: https://standforthetrees.org/
Update from HS2 Rebellion on Twitter:
🌳💚Widespread jubilation as HS2 works will be unable to continue until Summer 2021💚🌳 https://t.co/BrQb01wgg1 Well done all at Jones Hill for the persistent, determined, ongoing protest. This highlights the need to focus on protecting wildlife on the rest of the line #StopHS2pic.twitter.com/tRSjs5Rld0
The September Rebellion is over, but we are still in rebellion.
We are in rebellion against business as usual. We root ourselves in the reality of a heating planet, and in the catastrophic consequences of continued heating. We do this in the face of the denial and greed of corporations and governments and the super-rich.
We rebel in our daily lives, making choices based on reducing harm and in improving the health of the world.
We rebel in our conversations and communication, speaking up for the endangered and the extinct.
We rebel by resourcing ourselves: by learning about the impact of racial oppression and institutional greed, ill-will and ignorance on the climate crisis.
We rebel through our continued protests and demonstrations, on HS2 building sites and in towns and cities across the world.
Three weeks ago I dressed as a Faceless Bureaucrat and slowly marched with other rebels through Worcester city, dipping my hands into a globe filled with (fake) blood, before ‘dying in’ in the city centre. Last weekend Satya and I sat in vigil for an hour, in the rain, in love and grief for the earth. Someone will sit in vigil in the centre of Malvern every Saturday between now and COP 26.
Satya and Kaspa in vigil
We rebel through our personal practices and reflections. We investigate what it means to be human and how our own greed, ill-will and ignorance affect others and the world. We practice compassion and love.
We rebel in our thought and planning, asking what will our next actions be? Where do I want to put my energy? How can I best affect change?
We are in rebellion.
For more information on sitting in vigil, visit Earthvigil.co.uk
To find out about local actions and actions across the country contact your local XR group, or the national XR website.
Buddhists Across Traditions presents four talks throughout Black History Month: Honouring our Ancestors, Healing Ourselves, Nourishing Ourselves and Celebrating our Ancestors.
For Black History Month-UK (October) we have curated a series of compelling events, assembling a diverse array of powerful, pioneering international Afrikan descent monastics, elders, teachers and practitioners from various traditions (Mindfulness, Buddhist, Afrikan spirituality & psychology) coming together to honour, learn from and celebrate Afrikan heritage contributions.
XR Buddhists promote these events in the spirit of friendship and solidarity. Some XR Buddhists are members and facilitators within Buddhists Across Traditions.
“In five weeks’ time I will be traveling from our small rural town to London for a fortnight of rebellion. I will probably do some things that are illegal. I may get arrested. I heard anecdotally last week that those willing to be arrested are often supported by their faith. Is that true? How did I get here again and, as peace-loving Buddhist, why am I planning on causing disruption?”
As Buddhists we recognise and carefully consider any problematic impacts of direct action. Here, Andy and Joe respond to Dharma challenges by a long-term practitioner.
Q Few practitioners are at the advanced stages of the path necessary to be able to cope with the challenges experienced during direct action.
A It is our experience that even relatively beginner practitioners may progress spiritually through supported, compassionate, mindful engagement with the challenges of direct action. Clearly one should only engage in direct action if one is not in danger of losing one’s spiritual foundation, and we would certainly encourage anyone who is impacted in this way to take care of themselves in whatever way they needed. There are many ways to take action of course e.g. in a support role, and not everyone will be willing or able to join protest actions on the streets.
Q Throughout the suttas there are warnings about exposing ourselves to situations where it is difficult to guard the sense doors.
A It’s true that practitioners are advised to hold back from activities that would undermine their inner stability. Therefore each person must choose how to engage in a way suitable to them. The retreat experience in which we can and do guard the sense doors is invaluable, but we continue to practice when we move out into the world. For most of us this movement in and out of the world is the reality and both can contribute to our spiritual development.
Q Direct action creates attachments that hinder our progress to awakening. Once we are “thus-achieved”, or well-advanced along the path, then direct action may be possible, even advisable, but very few of us are.
A We practice mindfulness during actions in order to hold back from being drawn into attachment and anger. This is a valuable practice in and of itself.
A key offering of the Dharma in the context of direct action is non-attachment to results. This is our perspective. It is freeing and takes the stress out of our action. Instead we focus on cultivating the wholesomeness of our motivation and do our best to be well prepared.
Q The Buddha tells us how to develop our practice. It’s a well-trodden path. Most of us in secular dharma (who aren’t monastics) have a difficult job following this anyway because our lifestyle puts us in the way of worldly distractions. So, we should not make it more difficult by going looking for them.
A Direct action on climate change is not a distraction any more than any other compassionate action in the world. We have chosen a focused compassionate practice of non-violent direct action. This isn’t a ‘worldly distraction’ as it arises from a deeply held compassionate sense of universal responsibility, which is the very foundation of the path of awakening.
Q There may be wise ways of responding to legitimate concerns about the environment that involve little or no such dangers. It may therefore be more appropriate to explore these even though it may seem to us they are less effective or exciting, judged by the world’s standards.
A It is important for each individual to choose forms of action that suit their capacity and temperament. The most important point is the intention. If the intention is to generate excitement, then the action is indeed worldly; if the intention is universal compassion and responsibility, then the action is Dharma.
Q Then there is the consideration of the suffering of those adversely affected by XR protests. Some would say “the few must suffer for the many” but this is hardly compassionate.
A As XR Buddhists we favour actions that do not cause suffering. We are confident that our actions arise out of compassion for all beings; but actions toward a more sustainable and more inclusive world inevitably will cause discomfort even suffering to some. There is no way to avoid this, but to do nothing is to allow and perpetuate a system that causes huge suffering, particularly to the poor, the non-dominant cultures and to the other species. If our system continues as it currently does it threatens our very existence with the unimaginable suffering this will cause. There is no way to avoid suffering, we can only attempt to minimise it.
Q The non-violent meditator who stands apart from the world and its norms is likely to receive short shrift.
A This is not our experience. Our meditations may be quiet but they are also very powerful, conveying peaceful determination and rootedness. Very often when we meditate within the wider extinction rebellion movement, others will join us and sit with us. It is often evident that other activists and members of the public are inspired and moved by our meditation. Although we may be sitting apart we have placards that make clear the issues we addressing in the world.
Q. I agree with the goals of XR, but I’m not likely to engage in street actions: is there anything else I can offer from my meditation practice?
Yes. Thank you.Here are two suggestions for prayers and vows; please adapt them to your own needs and heart:
Prayer for the Earth
May people around the world including Governments, awaken to the reality and urgency of the ecological and climate crisis and act quickly and with wisdom.
May climate justice prevail in this world, so that inequality and harmful exploitation everywhere is ended for the good of all
May there be spiritual and ecological harmony in the world between people, in our treatment of animals and in our relationship to the environment, providing wellbeing and happiness to all beings everywhere.
And from a personal perspective here are the Eco-Satttva vows:
Eco-Sativa Vows (from: The Eccosattva Training course by One Earth Sangha)
Based on my love of the world and understanding of deep interdependence of all things, I vow:
To live on Earth more lightly and less violently in the food, products and energy I consume.
To commit myself daily to the healing of the world and the welfare of all beings; to discern and replace human systems of oppression and harm.
To invite personal discomfort as an opportunity to share in the challenge of our collective liberation.
To draw inspiration, strength and guidance from the living Earth, from our ancestors and the future generations, and from our siblings of all species.
To help others in their work for the world and to ask for help when I feel the need.
To pursue a daily spiritual practice that clarifies my mind, strengthens my heart and supports me in observing these vows
Joseph Mishan is a mindfulness teacher in the Vipassana tradition, a psychotherapist and the coordinator of Dharma Action Network for Climate Engagement in London and a joint coordinator of XR Buddhists UK.
Andy has been studying, practising and teaching Buddhism within the Gelug Tibetan tradition for 40 years. He joined XR in 2019, and is active in his local XR group in South Somerset.
I’d tend to say that I’ve not much use for hope when looking at the Climate and Ecological Emergency, but of course XR has a wild, improbable hope written all over it. The infectious power of that hope is surely why so many thousands of us have already responded to its call: the idea that if sufficient numbers of citizens confront this planned extermination of the living world by rising up in non-violent civil disobedience, our doing so might yet precipitate a significant process of change. And despite how bad things look, I most certainly feel the visceral pull that hope, or I wouldn’t be caught up in this.
One thing we can be sure of is that XR’s emergence has triggered something that’s caught many of us by surprise. A great many people, it would seem, already know the game is up on industrial civilisation, but have had no way of expressing that knowing, let alone of acting upon it. Which is to say, perhaps, they’ve had nowhere to place the burden of it, and have been left lying awake at 3am with an ever-worsening situation quietly gnawing at them.
I spent four days in London with XR’s October 2019 Rebellion, on the last of which I finally met up with an old friend from the Amida Shu sangha who I’d been trying to find all week – a Buddhist priest called Satya Robyn. Satya’s been deeply involved in XR this past year and it’s been a joy to watch the humane, grounded spirituality of her Amidist school of Buddhism – the one that’s most deeply shaped my own perspective on prayer – informing her response to and engagement with XR.
I joined Satya and other XR Buddhists early that final morning for a meditation vigil – one that would blockade the doorway to BP’s London Headquarters. Rookies that we were, we’d not factored on their second door, and by the time we crossed our legs we sort of knew our arrestible action was going to be politely ignored – as indeed it was.
After a couple of hours sitting there in silence we made our way to Trafalgar Square. By this point pretty much all the remaining XR presence in London had been corralled into that central zone, and the police had begun an accelerated process of removal and arrest. Mopping all this up.
I met some Cornwall friends at a road-block at the top of Whitehall and sat down with them. Peering between the legs of the police I found myself watching a troupe of young dancers who’d formed themselves into a ghostly, pulsating siphonophore, a composite creature floating and revolving in the open space between us and the main police lines, in complete silence. The Shimmer, as I later learned this many-legged being was called. As I sat entranced by its slow movement, Satya was carried past me by four police, sobbing deeply as she hung between them. You can read her own account of it here.
A few moments later an officer told me to move from the road, and when I refused, he asked if I understood the consequences of that refusal. I remember replying that what I understood was the consequences of this movement failing, and that understanding what its failure meant filled me with grief and terror. A bit hyperbolic, maybe, but true.
My mouth was now dry as sandpaper and I’d begun to feel dizzy. Then something unexpected happened: an old friend, a writer connected to the Dark Mountain Project, appeared out of nowhere and laid his hand on my shoulder without saying a word. The effect of his gesture was extraordinary. I felt rooted to the earth by it, as if the small weight of his hand ran down through me and into the ground, planting me there on the tarmac. The officer asked if I wanted to have more time to think about it, to which I replied I’d not been thinking about much else for the past four days, so now was probably good.
My friend was arrested a few moments after me, and like Satya and many others I know, he spoke of the overwhelming emotion that the experience evoked in him. For me it was rather different. Mainly, it was just a relief. To be finally doing something, maybe. As the police processed me I had plenty of time to talk to them about their role in the unfolding street theatre which our actions that week had co-opted them into. About the extra shifts they were working as a result. About why we were there.
The following nine hours were, I think, the most interesting of my recent life. They were also the quietest of that week. There’s been much discussion, since, about the privilege-bias of XR’s mass-arrest strategy. I certainly get that being arrested is a lot less vulnerable or high-stakes for some of us than it is for others – and yes, the whole encounter offered a nine-hour forensic examination of the social privileges that have shaped and still surround my rather sheltered life. So I’ve no real defence to offer this privilege-bias charge, other than to keep the situation where I can see it, as best I can anyway. And being on the wrong side of a police counter seemed to enable this quite effectively.
But about privilege itself. My friend Amos taught me that what the word privilege actually means is ‘exemption’. The term comes to us from an old tradition of papal exemption from communal taxes. And that’s exactly how privilege plays out in our culture, isn’t it? And why it has the bitter connotation that it does. What our culture tells us to do with privilege is to conserve it: hoard it, shore it up – keep it for yourself, and then pass it on to your own young.
One privilege I was aware of during that week in London was the behaviour of the police. None of us were being killed for being here, as is happening right now in so many other parts of the world – the Amazon especially – to those who dare to take a stand on these same issues. But more significant yet, for me, is the privilege that still enfolds most of us in the UK: the relative ecological stability we still enjoy, but that we can no longer expect to pass onto to our children – our own, or anyone else’s – as they set out on their lives. And along with that stability, pretty much every good or beautiful or otherwise crucial thing you can name or point to.
How do we respond to the fact that we’re living within a cannibal economy – a culture that’s knowingly and wilfully devouring the future lives of its own young? The dilemma of how to spend our own obscene exemption from what they will have to face still seems to me to overshadow these other, unevenly distributed privileges.
Meanwhile I found myself absorbed by those around me – especially the officer currently responsible for me, a nervous young man about my eldest’s son’s age, who seemed unfamiliar with the necessary protocols, and who I found myself feeling oddly protective of as he stumbled over some of the details and was met with a brisk impatience from his supervisor.
As you may have gathered, I’m not entirely convinced that this strange new composite being called XR has quite figured out what it is yet. We’ll see in the coming months and years, I guess. One thing I did learn that day is that a police cell is a good place to pray. This may sound stupid, but as XR UK’s next uprising approaches, I’ve noticed that the biggest obstacle to returning to arrestible action, for me, is that fractious argument around privilege. But however exposing those questions feel, I reckon that all things considered, such problems are best negotiated by going back and doing it again, and then again, as we work out together what this movement might yet become.
All of us now, one way or another.
Mat Osmond, Mid-Cornwall XR
Mat Osmond’s a writer and illustrator based in Falmouth, Cornwall, with a longstanding connection to the Amida Shu Buddhist sangha. His most recent piece for The Dark Mountain Journal, Black Light, picks up some of threads mentioned here. Mat’s convener for Art.Earth’s 2021 creative summit at Dartington, UK, Borrowed Time: on death, dying & change. Much of Mat’s spare time currently goes on helping to further the regenerative groundswell that is XR, within his local community and beyond.
