Staring in the Face of Hate
Lately there are times I find myself yelling at my computer. That’s embarrassing because as a Buddhist I’m committed to a path of nonviolence and compassion. I do what I can to my maintain emotional balance. I try to stay politically neutral and focus on the human qualities beneath the actions. And like many of us, I’m becoming increasingly frustrated.
But that frustration is starting to feel violent toward myself. I’m not sure that a philosophical soft focus is actually seeing clearly. I’m angry. But do I put nonviolence on hold long while I scream at the screen? Do I have to release myself from my vows of compassion?
Or can compassion speak to the totality of my feelings? Can compassion be fierce? Can there be nonviolence married to activism? Can we be assertive without aggression? Can we engage with life even when we feel overwhelmed and impotent? Well, as our last great President said, “yes we can.”
First of all, we can relax. It’s not your fault. It’s not the world’s fault. It’s not even Donald or Stephen Miller or Kristy Noem’s fault. We may hate many things in this world, but if we hold that hatred inside, or swallowed it in embarrassment, we become victims. We’re allowing the hurt of a hurtful world to hurt ourselves. And that is helping no one. Even reactions we deem understandable, depression, fatigue, teeth grinding anxiety, while forgivable, are not helping anyone. And this makes us feel inadequate, which makes everything worse.
But I’m convinced we can develop compassion strong enough to let ourselves become angry, or depressed or anxious. How we are, who we are is all we are. And if we’re dedicated to helping the world we need ourselves. Yes, we can.
Mealy mouth hallmark card compassion is based on people pleasing people to get by skirting across the surface. True Compassion is based on clear seeing, or insight. When we see beyond self-interest into things, and into the world.
Compassion and wisdom are the two wings of skillful action. When compassion and insight are melded, we have caring wisdom and smart compassion. When this happens skillful means is born. Skillful means , or upaya, is action that is appropriate to the moment. It’s not a philosophy or law. Upaya is action that best serves ourselves and our world. Hence, True Compassion is not kindness alone. It does not have to be sweet. It is not restricted by public acceptance, social politeness, or emotional numbing. Compassion is wisdom and caring combined to produce actions that actually reduce harm in the world and ourselves.
Okay, sounds good, but how do we do it? Starting with wisdom, seeing the world as it is implies paying attention despite our judgements and prejudices. Often it’s our judgement that hurts. We carry judgments around like old laundry. Clear seeing is looking past judgement no matter how justified we feel and seeing what’s actually happening. This takes training. We have to learn not to believe everything we think or everything we think we feel. We have to doom schroll critically and believe less. We have to learn to see without judgement – or at least put judgement aside long enough to see what’s there.
However, that doesn’t mean we have to fix anything. We see what’s there and if there is nothing we can do to help then our upaya may be just witnessing – holding our seat, engaged and caring, present and representing sanity for the life on our planet. Seeing what’s there and holding 0ur seat is more powerful than we might think.
Buddhist iconography illustrates the point. Manjushri, the Bodhisattva of wisdom, carries a sword. This sword of wisdom cuts through confusion, bullshit, and disinformation. The Bodhisattva of compassion, Avalokiteshvara, is sometimes depicted with a thousand arms that represent the many possible actions compassion my take when in the service of wisdom. Tantric icons are depicted flaming, as they burn up the prejudice and ill-will their compassion is liberated as active, and passionate. Compassion is not a static philosophy. It adapts. Compassion responds. Compassion does what works. If we come from wisdom, seeing clearly beyond our self-interest, what needs to be done becomes apparent.
And when nothing is apparent, then witnessing may be what needs to be done. Staring in the face of hatred is not a mere default. There are 8 billion of us watching. Staring in the face of hatred, even through our cellphones, can be a powerful thing. I care deeply about nonviolence and communication. I care about kindness and love in our society. Compassion is insight born of clarity and love, fused into action that is appropriate and effective. But love is not only heart emojis and floating balloons. Love is not passivity. Love is not silence in the face of harm.
Love can be active and it can be fierce as a mother bear defending her cub or as still as a cat mother holding her child.
What we are witnessing now—politically, industrially, militarily—has very little to do with care. Our political systems are not designed for anyone’s well-being. Most are designed to accumulate power. Power is a commodity. The planet, and the life that lives on it, are transactional bartering chips. It always has been. Very recently, Stephen Miller, the White House Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy and Homeland Security, spoke openly about how all the world respects power. Only power. He said nothing about compassion, wisdom, even knowledge. Nothing about communication. Nothing about safeguarding the health, safety, or dignity of the people he claims to represent. Fascists never do. They always tell people to tighten their belts ahead of a glorious future.
The greatest nation on earth. The strongest. The richest. We’ve heard this before. And yet the US has one of the highest maternal mortality rates in the industrialized world. We have one of the lowest literacy rates among peer nations. Our system clearly benefits some at the expense of many. This is not a family. This is not even a clan. This is a power structure designed to keep some in power at the expense of the rest.
Two core strategies always appear when power is threatened: find someone to blame and attack them hard enough to terrify everyone else. Brand dissenting as treason. Call critics enemies. Violence doesn’t even need to be subtle. When anyone who speaks up is targeted, freedom of speech collapses without a single law changing. Media narrows. Culture bends. Institutions rebrand themselves to survive.
And to be honest, the viciousness feels good to many. Ironically, a narrowing focus feel like freedom. Greed, hatred, domination seem sexy to those who feel resentful. It feels good. But this comes at an extraordinary cost. Nature always corrects imbalance. Always.
And we need balance too. Rage that destroys our health and clarity helps no one. Turning off the news sometimes is necessary. Creating boundaries is necessary. But if we are committed to compassion, we cannot turn away. We have to look directly at violence—even when it’s standing right in front of us, aiming straight at our face. Or shoots us in the face.
I remember earlier years of unrest—Kent State, assassinations, repression. It felt hopeless then. And yet the presence of resistance mattered. Protest mattered. Witness mattered. The chant was “the whole world is watching.” And it was. Pressure accumulated. Things shifted, slowly, imperfectly, but measurably. And things changed.
As they will again.
