Kate Solusar’s Holocron

It’s spring and time to play in the garden in the yard.  At first, we started with annuals, but have now worked our way into perennial gardening.  We still plant annuals, but it’s been more fun to work out more long-term plans with plants that return each year.  It’s been quite an experience learning about various plants, what works best where and how to tend to each plant’s specific and unique needs.  Right now, my spouse and I are working on trying to get our flower gardens to have something in bloom from spring through the fall.  It’s been fun working that out and trying to make that possible.  We are also working on establishing a shade garden in the back yard.  We have an area under some pine trees that we thought might be a great location to plant some shade loving plants and flowers.  We’ve borrowed my in-laws’ rototiller and are working to emend the soil so that it will be a good place to plant.

We also have begun to establish a vegetable garden as well.  We cooperate with some friends of ours and my in-laws, to share the bounty between us and grow different things so that we can share our harvests with each other.  I am really looking forward to this very much and if our bounty is too much for our three families, our friends have connections to a community gardening cooperative that gives produce to the needy, so we can share with them also.  Waste not, want not.  It’s a small-scale project, but I really like its cooperative nature and how we can all try our hands at various types of veggies.  My in-laws are great with squash and eggplant and have been even growing asparagus.  They also are the herb gardeners as well.  They also grow grapes and raspberries as well.  We are tomato, strawberry, and hopefully this year bean, pepper, and cucumber growers as well.  We also have wild blackberry patches and some blueberries as well.  We tend to leave those to our fine-feathered friends, but have enjoyed them as well.  Our friends are great with brussel sprouts, broccoli, lettuce, and beets.  So as you can see, I am really excited and looking forward to the growing season.  What’s also wonderful is that my two sons get to help and watch plants grow from seed to harvest.  It makes the vegetables somehow more appealing and they are more willing to eat them as well.  All in all, it’s a great thing and a wonderful way to connect with the Living Force.

This is something I posted over at another site, The Jediism Way.  The first section of text, in italics, explains what the purpose of this assignment is and what is expected in response.  My response, in normal text, follows, although it has been modified for this holocron entry.

What you need to do is post in here what a Jedi is to you and why you are a Jedi. We are not looking for a multi-page essay but just answer these two questions in your own words. The only thing it must meet is the bare bones minimum of what a Jedi is which is:

“Jedi are a noble order of protectors, guardians of peace and justice, unified by their belief and observance of the Force. They are individuals who actively work to improve their own life and the lives of those around them every day.”

I realized that I really wanted to take some time for reflection and meditation before responding to these questions for myself.

So I thought I would start with the version of the Code I use as a mantra, a signpost and guide:

There is no emotion; there is only peace.
There is no ignorance; there is only knowledge.
There is no passion; there is only serenity.
There is no chaos; there is only harmony.
There is no death; there is only the Force.

An alternate version, which expresses these ideas in an even more concise and practical way, follows here.

Emotion, yet peace.
Ignorance, yet knowledge.
Passion, yet serenity.
Chaos, yet harmony.
Death, yet the Force.

When I completed basic academy training at my home site, Ashla Knights, I made the following promises. When I made these promises, they form the core of my personal practice of the Jedi way.

I promised:

To uphold and live by the Jedi Code.
To respect all life and help protect those weaker than myself.
To use the Force only for good, never in anger, hate or fear.
To improve myself so I may be an example to others.
To provide guidance to those who seek it, while not seeking to lead or rule them.

I promised to be faithful to these words and strive to do so, in word and deed every day of my life.

Now for the practical part of living out these words:

I strive to continue to study, train, and improve mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically, to strengthen all four of these pillars, without neglecting any of them. In my personal life, I seek to be a center of calm and peace for my family, to faithfully fulfill the daily duties of my life’s station at this time without complaint, without stinting, because it is part of my discipline and practice to do so. Before all, I strive for self-mastery of all those pitfalls of the journey mentioned in the Jedi Code. I strive to give without counting the cost, to do the right thing, whether noticed or unnoticed. I strive to practice humility by being willing to serve, not to be served, to give up being right in order to achieve what is best for the greater good, to give up seeking status and power and prestige where practicable and possible (which for me, has meant forgoing seeking governmental office) because I believe that to be incompatible with the path I choose to walk. For now, being a Jedi means living a hidden life, where my actions and deeds speak for my beliefs and me more than my words.

In the online communities I call home, I strive to practice what I say I believe and what I teach, by word and example. I seek to be diplomatic, respectful, and willing to try to step into another’s shoes, especially when I disagree with them. I strive to bring people together for our common purpose, to improve our lives and make a difference in the lives of those around us, especially those in need of our help.

This is what I believe and strive to live.

Yesterday, my family had Chinese food to celebrate Mother’s Day.  For dessert, naturally, there were fortune cookies alone with the fresh pineapple chunks our server brought to us.  I had an intriguing message in my fortune cookie “Strong and bitter words indicate a weak cause.”

I mention these words here because it brought to mind a recent discussion I was involved in at another online community of which I am a member.  It was a discussion that I had watched with interest, but didn’t feel the need to post in until I saw something I thought I’d never see – two people who seemed to too often be at loggerheads actually agree on something.  I was excited to see such a positive development and posted a response echoing that excitement and agreeing with them also.  I never realized that in so doing, my words would cause hurt and misunderstanding and spark a more heated, passionate discussion.  But my words helped create that situation.  I tried to salvage my message, to clarify it in response to an honest and direct inquiry, but things got out of hand very quickly.  I continued to contribute to things in an effort to seek and find the common threads and keep at least the kernel of the consensus that seemed to be there, but it got lost and people were angered, frustrated, and hurt.  That had certainly never been my intention at all, so it was hard to see the mess that resulted, and the bitterness and acrimony that appeared to ensue and hurt people, particularly people I had seen as respected teachers who had given me a good deal as I have been learning and growing in this spiritual journey we call the Jedi way.

In a previous entry in this holocron, I spoke about my desire to practice my beliefs and what I have learned by striving to be a peacemaker, peace bringer, and diplomat.  In all these things, judging from the results of that particular discussion and the ripples that emanated as a result and affected other communities, my efforts and involvement did not improve or even seem to clarify things.  In all respects, it could be considered a failure; one I had a role in causing.  Then, I compounded this problem by forgetting a Toltec aphorism I strive to live by “Do not take anything personally.”  I felt hurt, I let others’ words and pain in and took their feelings and anger personally.  Not only did I give my internal control over to others, I was arrogant enough to blame myself for causing them to feel and act this way.  Talk about a power trip!  It has taken me some time to regain my bearings and practice that letting go, that detachment or unattachment that Jedi are fond of encouraging in practice.  It has been a learning experience, and a very humbling one.  At least those teachers to which I refer still teach and share their insights and experiences.  I may not and honestly do not always agree with them.  But their words are worth considering, taking what I like and need and leaving the rest.  And, I realize yet again that my own words may not be worth much to them or to others, but they mean something to me and to my practice and testify to my desire to practice what I learn here online as well as offline.

The other lesson I have learned is that this community, Ashla Knights, is truly my home, a place that continues to nurture and support my learning, understanding, and practice of what it means to walk and live the Jedi way.  I have also been reminded, in a discussion on the forum here, “Less A Jedi?” that truly the most difficult part of this path for anyone of us to embrace is this path’s spiritual demands of us.  In fact the physical demands of this path, even those advocated by those physical adepts among us, pale in comparison.  Again, I am reminded, that while this path is an individual one ultimately, it is not an easy path, nor is it for everyone.  It asks of us no less than ourselves, undivided and entire.  That’s not an easy demand for anyone to meet, as we all too often hold something of ourselves back.  I know that has been true of myself, and that it is so vitally important to take frequent pauses for self-assessment, to honestly look at how I choose to live this path and this way, acknowledge and take responsibility for my failures and get up and continue to strive to live up to what it means to be a Jedi in our day and age.  I may not get it right all the time, and I don’t, but I do know that I am a better person for choosing this way of living and that choosing to be a Jedi makes a difference in the lives of those around me.  It helps me cope with the opportunities and challenges in my daily life and to act from a calm center.  That helps me and my family, especially when it comes to meeting the challenges of living and dealing with the impact autism has in our lives.

I gained some more insight into some of the reasons why I continue to experience difficulty communicating effectively with some people who are particularly close to me.  My spouse, children, and I were at another family gathering, this time at my sister’s house.  My sister had arranged with my husband that he would stay at the house with our little guy with autism and my sister’s new baby boy, so that her focus could be on her daughter’s celebration.  The celebration went off with the usual amount of chaos and turbulence associated with family gatherings with my family of origin.  My sister had said this was going to be a small-scale event, with close family.  There ended up being about 50 people present, more than enough to make things challenging for my little guy with autism, and for my husband and I as a result.

The insight comes from some of the comments made by family members and others present, who are not part of our day-to-day lives.  My mother suggested that my spouse take our son up to the upstairs playroom, so that he’d be occupied and “out of the way.”  Later on, my focus had to be on staying with my little guy, because he would try to go all the way down the driveway to the street to get away from all the commotion and to “go for walk…this way.”  It was constant, and like similar parties, keeping an eye on my son meant that I couldn’t actually really be at the party.  My aunt remarked on how we never get to chat, that she could see I’m busy, but I am a stranger to her now.  As usual, we were the first to leave, because my little guy likes to go as it gets dark because it’s late and “time for sleepies.”  Also, at that point, he’s reached his limit of tolerance for all the noise and commotion, is hungry because he cannot eat in situations like this, and he’s tired.  The universal response we get is “Don’t go, he’s not bothering us.”  “Should we have just avoided your son and left him alone?”  And that’s just what gets said.  The nonverbal language usually indicates resentment and a “here we go again” sense.  They believe my husband doesn’t like them so they blame him for us leaving “early.”

Last night, we watched the movie Mr. Holland’s Opus.  It’s about a high school music teacher and his wife, who have a deaf son, Cole.  The movie shows the disconnect that exists between the father and his son as a result and how the wife and mother in the story is the one who works with her son to help him find his voice and a way to communicate.  She’s the one who bridges the gap between father and son, until one day the son confronts his father’s indifference and insensitivity and helps his dad realize that shutting him and his disability out was not the way to go about life.  Interestingly enough, it was the life, music and death of John Lennon that helped bring them together and reconnect as a family.  The events in the movie mirror our own experience with our son’s autism, except my spouse and I are not disconnected from each other or either one of our sons.  We are disconnected from my family of origin, because of their fear, misunderstanding and ignorance of autism and its impact on our lives.  That became clear in the light shed by the movie portrayal of the characters’ experiences and how they coped with Cole’s deafness that provided sense and context to the comments made by my family and our experiences in the last two weeks.

 Master Thompson asked me a significant question after my last holocron entry, about what I’ve learned from these kinds of experiences – the take home lesson, if you will.  I’ve learned that I hurt when people I love and are close to say, perhaps in their mind well-intentioned remarks and comments, but whose words, ignorance and fear actually hurt.  I realize that all my efforts to keep the peace have allowed this to continue.  I haven’t been honest with them.  It’s a struggle for me to do that, because of my own fear and concern not to appear to judge them for their feelings, or give them anything that they can use to blame my husband and confirm their belief that he doesn’t like them.  So I take the hit instead, but it comes with a cost that’s getting too high to continue to pay.  I also see more clearly that part of our disconnect comes from our different parenting styles and values.  I make sure I know where my children are and what they are doing.  I make sure they get an opportunity to eat and drink.  I make sure they don’t get hurt and that they have fun.  I make sure that our little guy’s toilet training stays on track.  It also means that I listen to when my children have had enough and am wise enough not to let things progress into a full autistic meltdown or tantrum.   So, honesty is the missing link here, because no matter what I say or how I say it, there is a real risk of causing my family to respond defensively and take even “I messages” personally.  It is one of the biggest downfalls and pitfalls for me personally in my efforts to be diplomatic. I placate. And, it turns out, that is indeed the crux of the problem.

It’s been difficult for me to find the words to put to paper in this holocron for some time now.  I’m a natural peacemaker and diplomat, and those skills have been put to the test quite a bit in the last month or so in my life.  The flip side to that part of who I am is that I am also a placater, a people pleaser and a perfectionist.  So my buttons get pushed when I fail to bring people together, resolve a situation and achieve consensus, or when I sense I’ve hurt someone by what I’ve said or done or by not saying or doing anything.   In such situations, there’s no way to “win.”  I know the solution is to detach and let go, but that’s really hard.  I’m working on it.

 In one of my previous jobs, I was an administrative assistant to three high level managers in a biotech firm.  Two of them were fairly easy going and a pleasure to work for, the other was anything but pleasant.  Her mere presence in a meeting was enough to create a tense climate, and when she spoke, it was always something negative, often manipulative and hurtful.  She would go out of her way to target two particular co-workers and generally make their lives and jobs difficult.  She never understood that two people could not work on the same computer document at the same time on two different computers; every time one or the other of us would save the document, it would overwrite whatever the other person had been working on and inevitably would make a mess.  I learned that no matter how patient I was, how often I explained just that, my boss would continue to do it anyway and any and all mistakes that weren’t corrected (or rather were, but had been overwritten) would be blamed on me.  I learned to go along to get along, to placate her.  I learned the art of apologizing without really apologizing.  Eventually this all was resolved when I had the opportunity to choose one of the three to work for full-time.   This person was not my choice.  I didn’t break it, I couldn’t fix it, and I just had to do what was best for me.

My family of origin had quite a revelation recently when they realized that because of their fears and inability to deal with my son with autism, they’ve really missed out.  We had a family gathering with both sides of our families present, and it became clear that my children preferred my husband’s family.  I could sense the hurt, shock, and surprise in my mom and brother and sisters, but could do nothing to fix the situation.  It hurt to watch and realize that for all my detachment (so I thought), I still found myself wishing for things to be different rather than accept what actually is.  What’s worse is that it’s MY family of origin - my mom, my brother and sisters, not my husband’s.  I get along with them and very well.  That is very different from my spouse and youngest son’s experience with my family.

I mention these things because I relearned a very difficult lesson this past weekend.  It seems that once, or twice isn’t enough; I have to revisit this same issue every so often and get past it and learn the same lesson over again.  Sometimes the best thing to do, and the hardest, is to stand back and let people learn their own lessons.  Sometimes I sense a solution, offer it, and get kicked in the teeth for doing so, or called (my mom’s favorite) an “interferer.”  I have to remember that sometimes stepping into a situation only makes it possible for those involved to blame you for the results.

I suppose this sounds like a bit of a rant.  I guess I’m writing this to get past it (it’s been a stumbling block to writing) and to be again able to write about more positive things and aspects of this path we walk together here.  I can say that it’s been a struggle.  I’ve needed to take time in meditation and go back to the most basic words we have as a community here, the Jedi Code.   My meditation time and mala have been my best friends lately.

I need to acknowledge that probably my greatest struggle and weakness in all of this is that I fall to manipulation very easily.   Recently, someone close to me pushed my buttons and I let them, because I fell yet again to that old tempter, manipulation.  I let them in and tell me how I should feel and feel bad for something over which I have little to no control over – their words, their actions, and their choices.  Yet again, I find myself holding the bag, asking myself what more could I have done that would have ensured a positive resolution where no one ended up feeling bad.

In this community, I’m supposed to be a teacher and role model, as well as a servant to our apprentices and learners here.  I find myself feeling like somehow I’m not living up to what people have a right to expect from me here; even more, I question myself.  I share this, however, as another teaching opportunity.  I’m not perfect, I don’t get it right even though I strive to, and the most important lesson I can teach is to get up again, get back to basics and put one foot in front of the other.  So that is what I will do, recommit myself to continuing to walk this path and spirituality, the way of the Jedi, imperfect and failible as I am.