We Are Not Our Bodies
I experienced racism as an Indian kid growing up in a predominantly white community. I experienced it in the comments about my parents’ accents, in the questions about the smells in our house, and in the mean jokes that are not worth repeating. Many of these experiences made me feel small. And most made me wish I were white so that I could blend in with everyone else. Ever since those early experiences, racism has been the one issue that would spark an explosion of shame and anger in me. And perhaps because it was such an emotional experience I felt like I understood racism. But my experience doesn’t come close to approximating the prejudice, discrimination and antagonism directed against black people in this country, and I’ve come to realize how little I understand that experience despite the fact that I’ve had a distinct taste of what racism feels like.
A couple of weeks ago I was attending a four-hour class with a cohort of amazing people I’ve been with for the past nine months and whom I feel extraordinarily close to. It’s also one of the most racially diverse communities I’ve been fortunate to be a part of. The class started with the instructors checking in on how everyone was doing (in the context of the death of George Floyd and the movement against racism and police violence that was rising across the world). After a pause, one woman had the courage to share what was in her heart. She spoke so calmly and so vulnerably for almost ten minutes about the depth of her anger, her pain and her despair. And that opened the door for others to share as well. Stories of what it’s been like for them to live in black bodies in America, and to live in fear of what could happen to their adult sons everyday. A couple of women also expressed that they were tired of taking on the burden of educating white people. I could understand this sentiment and it also made me self-conscious about speaking up…afraid to expose my ignorance; for each time someone spoke I was learning something, awakening more and more to the reality that I thought I had understood but that was becoming much more personal and piercing.
I wear two bracelets on my right wrist. On one of them is written NOT THIS BODY to help remind me of my spiritual reality…that I’m not this body, I’m not this mind, I’m not this ego…that I am the soul, I am spirit, I am consciousness. As I was listening to the intense sharing that was happening in class, I kept looking down at my bracelet and thinking, we may not be these bodies, but these bodies cause us so much suffering. The Bhagavad Gita explains that the root of all suffering is our misidentification with the body, and that is partially what I was thinking about. What I was also thinking about is how whether I’m born in a black body, or a white body, or a brown body is the cause of so much additional suffering in this world. How can the message that we’re not these bodies resonate with anyone for whom the color of their bodies has determined so much? The understanding that we are not these bodies is not meant to make us indifferent to the suffering and injustice that’s been going on for so long, nor to free us from the responsibility to do something about it.
On the other bracelet I wear is written NIMITTA MATRAM (except the last M was left off), which means “just become an instrument” in Sanskrit. All four of us at Upbuild wear this same bracelet because it represents our aspiration to be instruments of Krishna, instruments of service. I believe in service, I believe in the goodness of people, I believe in dignity for all people, and I believe in justice. As I was listening in class, I was also feeling a strong determination to act on my values and beliefs. It’s been too easy for me in the past to feel enraged and then simply revert back to remaining comfortable in my own bubble over time. I don’t know right now what the full extent of my actions will look like but it has started with helping to fund some of the organizations that are working to support the black community and this movement right now; investing time teaching our 6-year-old twins about George Floyd, racism, protests and justice; and educating myself (dramatically expanding my social media sources, constructing a new reading list, forming an anti-racist group at our kids’ school, marching in our neighborhood protest, and discussing everything). I know there’s a lot more. But it starts with seeing my own biases more clearly. I have a lot of work to do.
The Bhagavad Gita describes that the spirit in each of us originates from the same source, and therefore we are all brothers and sisters no matter what the color of our bodies. We must serve each other with this understanding in mind. And in the midst of everything that’s going on right now, let us not forget the Gita’s foundational instruction that we are much more than these bodies we occupy. Because as long as we continue to live from a material, bodily perspective, we will eternally be subjected to one type of suffering or another.
I didn’t have the benefit of being exposed to these teachings (especially the latter) as a child, and it’s a daily battle to try to unlearn 40 years of conditioning. So I’ve been exposing my children to these teachings since they could speak in the hopes that they grow up with an obligation to help create a world where people don’t experience unnecessary suffering because of the color of their bodies, and simultaneously that my children’s understanding that we are not these bodies is more self-evident so that their actions spring from a place that is powerful and contagious.